My voice is a screech. “No!”
No, no, no, no. I can’t be back here. How did I get back here?
Fucking Thornfield.
Or…or was it all a dream? Maybe I never left, and the last week has all been a drug induced hallucination. Tears sting my eyes as I desperately fight back my sobs. Does this mean I never rescued Mabel? That I didn’t revive my bond with Hayden?
I don’t realize that I’m screaming until the warmth of Hayden’s love and reassurance fills my chest.
His emotions.
In my chest.
His bond is still there.
Focusing on the feelings he’s pushing my way grounds me, and I’m able to stop the devastated cries tearing out of my throat.
“...Jo? Jo, answer me!” Hayden’s voice is desperate, and I turn my head to the other side.
I’m in a cell.
Strapped to a bed, yellow fluorescent lights buzzing above me, but one of the walls is made completely of bars.
On the other side, also in a cell, is Hayden. His face is pressed to the bars, his arm reaching through them like he might be able to reach me.
“Hayden?” I manage to choke out, my throat sore from screaming.
“Thank gods.” He sighs, looking relieved. “Listen, I don’t know how much time until he comes back, but—”
“Who?” My voice is raspy. “Until who comes back, Hayden? Where’s Sam? And West? Kole? Turnip?”
Regret fills his face. “A car crashed into us and brought everyone back here. The guys are in the next block over. Turnip…I don’t know, Jo. She’s probably still back in the car. But Declan has a tracker on her, right? He’ll get to her. He’ll see that we’re in trouble and come here to get us.”
Turnip. She made a noise when we first crashed, so I know she isn’t terribly hurt. The fact that Declan has a tracker in her collar is the only thing that keeps me from losing it. “Where…where is here? Do you know?”
He gives me a weak smile. “Welcome to one of my father’s many vacation homes, Fireball. Looks like I’m first in the ‘pack meets the family’ race after all. I guess dear old Dad had this…dungeon built in when he was doing repairs after the fire.”
“The fireyoucaused.” A strong, authoritative voice rings out, and I turn my head to see an older version of Hayden unlocking the door to my cell. I’ve seen pictures of Senator Richard Pierce, of course. Always the picture of masculine authority, but in a bland, generic way.
In person though, the resemblance to Hayden is striking. Despite my mate’s alpha-build and his father’s beta physique, they have the same sharp jawline, same golden hair, though Richard’s is more gray than gold now. His eyes are blue instead of hazel, and I find myself relieved that this monster doesn’t share my favorite trait of his son’s.
Or his scent. While Hayden is delicious, smoky pepper, Richard is ash, long after the fire’s burned out.
He’s in a perfectly pressed suit, looking like he just came from a press conference. As you do, before sauntering down the steps to your dungeon where you’re keeping your son and his pack captive. Gods, wouldn't it be wild if we could get some reporters down here?
“You can take the cost of repairs out of my allowance,” Hayden snips.
“Sending you to that godsforsaken asylum was supposed to scare some sense into you, not make you even more insufferable than before.” Richard spits, his irritated expression making him turn ugly. What a dick.
Ha. Richard…Dick. It’s like his parents knew what a massive twat-waffle he’d be.
“You know, Pops, most fathers would send their kids to therapy. Not an insane asylum for notorious criminals.”
“You and I both know that’s not what that place is. Orwas,” he sneers. “Now it’s in shambles, and it’s up to me to make things right, considering my son helped destroy all our hard work.”
“What do you mean?” I make my voice tremble, and Dick actually looks at me for the first time since walking in here.
“Declan Gallagher fried every single piece of data in the servers. Nobody can get a hold of Whitmore, Brooks is gods knows where, the omegas have been turned loose—but you.” He gives me a slimy grin. “You were injected with the highest dose of instinct inhibitor. There may still be some in your system, and we can reverse engineer the formula from the composition of your blood. Then I can hand deliver my results to Prometheus, and he’ll give me the credit I deserve for helping eradicate our country of the demon spawn.”
