He’d felt it before.
During the dark nights after the experiments had started. When the pain had kept him from sleeping and the fear of what the next day would bring would take over his mind. He would go back. If it meant saving Theo, Wylder would go back to the endless nights of pain. Even when there were times that Wylder could still feel the warmth of his own blood running down his cheek.
It was cold. So cold.
Placing his palm against the cold concrete wall beside the little cot he lay in made Wylder wince. His hand was scarred. Long wounds along his fingers where the doctor had sliced.
Doctor. That was a joke. No one in the medical field who did what Dr. Morrow did should be able to call themselves a doctor.
A hard shudder racked Wylder’s body and he curled into himself.
The scratchy dark blue blanket was no match for the chill that came from inside him.
It was going to be a long night. They were all long nights now.
His days were filled with pain and torture but the nights were even worse. At night there was nothing to distract Wylder from the pain and helplessness.
How had he managed to get himself into this mess?
Oh, Wylder knew how. He’d joined the US military because that was what had been expected of him. Generations of his family line going back to the Civil War had fought for their country. There had never been a choice for him. Wylder hadn’t dreamed of doing anything else, of being anything else—no point when his future had been laid out for him.
Growing up, Wylder hadn’t known any different.
Hadn’t thought to fight against the plan made for him. So, when he’d been approached for special assignment, Wylder had thanked his lucky stars. He didn’t want to be a soldier. Even though he excelled in bootcamp and training, Wylder’s heart hadn’t been in it.
If only he had known.
Wylder wouldn’t be seeing any combat because he would never get out of the cold sterile room where he was wasting away.
He’d noticed that there were only a handful of them remaining.
At first Wylder had cried for the fellow soldiers that were lost but now he knew the truth. Those were the lucky ones. The ones that had blissfully passed before things had gotten really bad.
The solution injected into his veins had changed Wylder.
It had been cool at first. Not the injections. Those had always hurt. Burned through him. Nearly incapacitated him. But learning that he could jump farther, run faster, and morehad made the process seem worth it. Until Dr. Morrow had tried for more.
Had pushed farther.
Too far.
Super soldiers. No one said those two words out loud but that was what the military was trying to accomplish. The shifters that were also being held prisoner along with Wylder and the other soldiers had either been lied to or not been given a choice.
The shifters had it even worse than Wylder and his fellow soldiers.
While Wylder’s body rejected what was being done to him, the shifters suffered an even worse fate. The doctors didn’t care how many shifters they went through to reach their ultimate goal.
Enhanced human. That was what the doctor told Wylder he was.
In Wylder’s mind, a better description was a dead human. There was no way that he was going to live through this.
Another hard shudder racked his body and Wylder bit back a whimper.
“Wylder.”
His name was moaned from the other side of the concrete wall. Wylder knew that he shouldn’t be able to hear the voice.
“Cotton,” Wylder whispered. “Are you okay?”
