The hallways are surprisingly empty. The last event had more guards out and about. I guess they don’t have the same sort of infrastructure this time around, since they’ve been moving locations so much because of all the politics going on.
Mirabelle takes this opportunity to close the robe she’s wearing, tugging it shut.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Nothin’ you need to thank me for, Sugar. I never would’ve let you go with him.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I nod.
A bald beta with a tattoo running up the back of his neck jumps up from a folding plastic chair.
“Hey, what’re you doing back here?” He asks, shoving his phone into his back pocket.
“Just wanted to check on my fighters. I’m with the Mercer Family Farm.”
“Ah, you’ve got the three. They’re in the holding room cell to the left,” the man says, gesturing over his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
Then something I never could’ve predicted happens.
The fire alarm goes off.
CHAPTER 39
Mirabelle
The shriek of the alarm practically makes me jump out of my skin.
I completely forget there’s a beta guard watching us and reach for Rowan’s arm, clinging to it desperately.
“Fucking hell! That means the cops are coming!” The bald beta man curses. He pushes past me, shoving me into Rowan’s chest.
“Hey! Watch it!” Rowan snaps, his arm curling protectively around my waist.
He turns his wild eyes to Rowan. Something about the metallic aftertaste of his scent reminds me of something. It’s only when his lips curl back in a snarl that I make the connection.
This man is hooked on enhancement drugs. Like Rowan was when I first met him.
Except this guy seems to have been on significantly higher or more frequent doses, if the veins popping out of his temple are any indication.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of here. The police’ve been doing raids on places like this more often.And I’m not willing to get caught.” He turns his back to us and stumbles down the hallway.
“This is a fucking shitshow,” Rowan mutters under his breath. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“We—we can’t leave the guys! Please, Rowan, we have to get them too!” I say, clinging to his arm.
I can barely hear myself think over the screech of the alarm. The bright flashing lights in the dim hallway wreak havoc on my senses.
I’ve been spoiled, spending my recent time with Rowan and Griffin in my nest back at Rowan’s trailer. This kind of environment reminds me of that terrible cell I was kept in when I was first drugged.
“We’re not leaving them behind,” Rowan says, lacing his hand with mine as he tugs me down the hall. “No one gets left behind, Sugar.”
My shoulders slump forward with relief as he opens the door.
Loud roars echo from the other cells where other alphas are being kept. But my focus is onmyalphas.
