“You try any funny business and I’ll be forced to shoot,” the guard warned me, swinging the cell door open.
Immediately, I felt a rush of relief through my veins, like the first sip of cool water after being dehydrated and overheated. Tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying melted from my shoulders and neck.
My dragon stretched inside me and roared.
I could have wept.
Nevertheless, I didn’t make a rush for the open cell door, no matter how desperately freedom called to me. For all I knew, they were transferring me to a proper prison, or to another cell in this one. If I was being held for the long haul, I imagined I might be given a tiny bit more space, or at least a slightly better bed. Not that I believed the humans would be that kind, but I could hope, couldn’t I?
“You’re being released,” the guard snapped when I still hadn’t moved. He sounded even more pissed now. “So hurry your ass up.”
“Released?” I echoed, wondering if I had heard correctly, or if I had started to hallucinate.
Maybe the pregnancy conversation was a hallucination, too.
It would probably break my heart if that was the case. So, I supposed that answered the question on how I truly felt about it if it was real. I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted my mates’ baby, no matter how soon into our relationship it was.
“That’s what I said,” the guy barked, “so move.Now.”
I did not need to be told a third time. I hustled towards the open space and through it, and the remaining feeling that I was being suffocated started to ease away into nothingness as I walked down the hallway towards the literal light at the end of the dark tunnel. I carefully followed the cop’s directions through the building, up flights of stairs and around corners until I came to a heavily locked door with a keypad and card scanner.
“No funny business,” the officer reminded me as he finally stepped around me, holstering his gun to swipe a card over the reader and tap in a code on the keypad. The red light over the door turned green and the officer pressed down on the handle and pushed the door open.
On the other side of the door, we entered what seemed to be a waiting room, painted stark white and lined with uncomfortable white plastic chairs. The people in those chairs shot to their feet and I felt my knees wobble.
“I’ve got you, beautiful,” Sergio had his arms around me, supporting my weight as my resolve finally began to crumble. Dex was at my other side in a heartbeat, adding his own strength to keeping me upright, not that our alpha really needed the help.
In front of me, I made out Brandt and Eric’s blurry shapes through the tears I couldn’t blink away.
I honestly hadn’t believed that I would see my pack —my family— any time soon. But here they were, waiting for me, holding me up while I broke down.
“It’s okay, baby,” Dex was saying, “we got the bastard responsible for all this. We’re going to make sure he pays. Especially seeing as Beckett wouldn’t let us eat him.”
I let out a watery chuckle at the same time as the guard behind me made a strangled sound at the back of his throat.
“You’ve never eaten a person in your life,” I chided, unable to keep the fondness out of my tone. I looked up at my big brother, “And don’t pretend you have, either.” (Well, except for that time the Moonmusic people turned up with rocket launchers and tried to kidnap some of the pack's kids. We'd ignore that as an anomaly.)
“If I were to start with anyone, it would have been that rat,” Brandt muttered darkly. “Or these humans for the way they have treated you.”
“On that note,” Eric guided Brandt to turn away, “I think we’ve outstayed our welcome.”
“Welcome,” Brandt scoffed. “Pffft. I should burn this place for its depraved conditions.”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Glad to see your post-partum hormoneshave settled.”
“They’re using magic-restricting cages!” Bran snapped back. “It is inhumane.”
“It is,” Sergio agreed, his arm still possessively around my waist as we walked towards the next door standing between us and the outside world, “however, look at our little rodent friend. Without those cells, how else could the humans contain someone like him?”
“A concrete cell with no windows and no space beneath the door?” Dex suggested, then darkly added, “And a rat trap held in preparation for escape attempts at meal times.”
“He would probably shift and flush himself down the toilet,” Sergio mused just as we left the waiting room and entered a large, harshly lit foyer. It was empty, save for another armed guard eyeing us warily from the other side of the space, without any signage. Then, to our left, there was a wall of thick windows and a door.
Freedom.
“That’s what I would do, at any rate,” Sergio was explaining. “If I could shift small enough.”
I tuned him out, the darkness beyond the glass doors beckoning me in a way that made my stomach twist.
