Prologue
My breathing echoes harshly around me.
Occasionally, I’ll hear a snatch of voices overhead, a laugh from a guard.
But there’s no light coming from the hatch above me. No light coming from anywhere.
I’m consumed by pitch black darkness. I can’t see my hands, my feet. I know they’re still there, because my hands are burning, my nails ripped to jagged shreds where I’ve tried to rip myself free of the cage I’m trapped in.
Crying. Screaming. Begging.
They know how to break us.
All I did was pass Molly some of my shitty food ration, spooning a bit of rice onto her plate.
But punishment is harsh and swift here.
I don’t know how long ago that was. I’ve lost any sense of time down here.
The scent of my own urine soaks into the filthy space around me, adding to the scent of fear and desperation. It’s clear from the smell that I’m not the only person who’s been down here.
How many other omegas have ripped their nails against these walls?
I didn’t even know this existed until Enzo, one of the particularly creative guards, dragged me out, opening the hatch with a grin and pushing me in.
There’s not enough space to sit down. All I can do is lean against the wall, my legs and back screaming.
When my thirst becomes overwhelming, I try calling out. Apologizing, asking for just a little bit of water to soothe the desert in my mouth.
But nobody comes.
What if they’re not coming? What if I’m trapped?
My breaths quicken, the panic clawing at my throat. My broken nails rip at the dirt-packed walls until some of it starts to crumble in, and I stop.
I don’t want to die here. So I wait.
Nobody comes for a long time.
And when they do, I’m not human anymore. I’m not Gabrielle.
I’m a terror-soaked, filthy thing, half-blind in the bright sunlight beaming into the hole. Faces lean over me, talking rapidly, arms reaching down to lift me out.
They help me get my feet underneath me, shaky but upright. The voices sound shocked, upset, kind. Offering food, pressing water into my hands that I gulp down in big swallows that hurt my chest.
They are not the people who put me in here.
They promise me I’m safe now.
But I learned long ago not to trust promises.
So I run, ignoring the panicked calls from behind me.
I stagger, nearly fall, but I keep going.
Because the gates are open.
The gates areneveropen.
