There’s no denying it now.
This is a heat inducing drug.
The cool morning air does nothing to calm the burning, throbbing heat pulsing through my veins. My skin feels too tight for my body.
Were things this bad back at the facility? I can never remember.
I think that’s on purpose. I imagine it would be much harder to keep the omegas in line if we know that the procedures we undergo to supposedly help people include this much pain.
The engine cuts off and Jett drags me out. I think he finds a lot of pleasure wrapping my hair in his fist and making me stumble behind him. I don’t think he’s let me walk a single time since I’ve gotten here.
Even when Rowan had an actual leash attached to my neck, he never treated me like this.
The thought of Rowan makes a desperate pang twist low in my belly.
As I’m dragged into one of the cells, or should I say torture chambers, I’m plagued by thoughts of my alphas.
I wonder where they are. How they’re doing.
And as I stare at the metal bed frame bed in the center of the room with restraints hanging off the four corners, I wonder whether I’m ever going to see them again.
This room makes me feel like I’m going to die here.
“Don’t fight me,” Jett grunts before he shoves me on the bare mattress. “Or do. You know how much I like a good fight.”
My stomach roils before assaulting me with a violent cramp that has a keening cry leaving my throat.
It’s starting.
“Damn, this drug works fast.” He tugs my right wrist first, snapping the metal handcuff around it with a definitive click.
My left wrist is next.
He has a harder time wrestling my legs into the restraints because I’m writhing about on the bed, the sweatpants and t-shirt I’m wearing feeling far too thick and heavy for my skin.
I want them off. They’re too much. Everything is too much.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to help me, but I bite back the words. The last thing I want is for his eyes to be on my naked body. Not again.
“There we go.” Jett stares down at me, standing at the foot of the bed, his hands planted on his hips and his smile wide. “God, this is going to be fun.”
I scrunch my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever’s going to happen next, but nothing does. The thick metal door slams shut, leaving me alone in this cell I think I’m going to die in.
And for whatever reason, my inner omega riots at the thought.
I can’t be left alone. Not like this.
I thrash against the restraints, tears streaming down my cheeksand soaking into my hairline. They even drip into my ears. But even as they cool on my face, nothing about me is cool.
Everything is burning hot. Like I’m being cooked alive from the inside out.
I don’t know how long I lay there, thrashing about like that, fighting the restraints, fighting against the restrictive feel of my clothes, fighting against the sensation that my skin is too small for me to fit.
When the door finally opens again, a relieved sob leaves my throat.
I don’t even care who it is. They just need to put a stop to this.
I can’t take it. I feel like I’m going to die.
