Caspian stood taller before his men, before his slaves, and demanded, “Put that down before you hurt yourself.”
There would be pain alright. Theirs. She’d kill every last one of them.
And then he sealed his fate. “This farce of an agreement is behind us. You are mine, the boys are mine. Every last life in this fucking city is mine. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to harm the other one if you don’t obey.”
The other one? This bastard didn’t even know the name of the boy he threatened.
Animal noises came from her chest, a mournful wheeze twisted in a raw, chattering growl.
There was a point all males knew not to push an Omega past, a point that led to unyielding bloodlust. She became something else.
A creature that would single-mindedly defend her young. A creature who could not feel pain. A creature who would not stop until death.
She was going to kill this man, beat him to death with the metal rod she’d torn from hardened rock.
“Stop threatening her boy, boss!” Toby pushed forward, snapping his teeth at Caspian before his wild eyes met her unblinking gaze. “Put down the weapon and come to me, mate. Mikael will remain unharmed. You have my word.”
Mate? Her grip tightened about the aged rebar, fingers going white. Word? Worthless.
Cajoling, singsonging false calm, Toby held up his hands patting air as if to calm her. “This is all a misunderstanding. Look, he even gave Alec a place. One with pay. Food. Water. You’ll be able to keep a close eye on him. Caspian means no harm to your boys.”
“Like hell I don’t!” The First Alpha stripped off his disgusting coat, dropping it to the mud, muscles bulging as he demanded surrender. “Submit, now, or I’ll cast him out on the street. Submit, or the sick one will drown in his own body’s juices. You are mine! I don’t give a fuck about our agreement.”
Greys and shadows bleached away until her world was only black and white.
Rearing back with a guttural scream, Wren launched herself at the betrayer, laughing at his roar.
Chapter 15
Lashes crusted and gummed with drying blood stuck together when Wren tried to blink herself awake. The ground below her was cold and wet. She was soaked, naked, save for scraps of ruined cloth and the icy touch of heavy chains.
They weighed her down, pinning her to that rough cement floor.
There was enough light coming through the crack in the door to see her shackled hands and swollen, stiff fingers. Five of her nails had been torn off. At least three of her fingers were broken… and the blood. Her skin was scraped off.
Wren could see why. She’d attacked the door, the walls… herself.
Around the shackles on wrists and ankles was raw skin, torn when she’d tried to remove them.
She didn’t remember doing it. She didn’t remember being chained or thrown in this room.
All she could remember was Caspian’s threats. Submit, now, or I’ll cast him out on the street. Submit, or the sick one will drown in his own body’s juices.
Well now she was lying in hers. Everything hurt: each muscle, each bone. Her split flesh.
So many bites marked her limbs. They burned, but nothing like the gouged flesh of her neck. Raw fingers had tested the skin, coming away bright red. She was still bleeding, just as her cunt still spilled cum if she moved.
It smelled of Caspian.
These were his bites. He had bruised her and torn her neck. And she could remember nothing.
He should have just killed her and been done with it. Shoving her into a dark closet to rot seemed too personal.
It was almost as if he cared.
That thought made her laugh, a thing she regretted immediately when scabbing skin stretched and oozed. If he thought to torture her, he’d better hurry. Infection would kill her in a matter of days.
Maybe this was Caspian’s idea of compassion. Time to mourn her boy before inevitable death carried her out of this hellish life.
Footfalls outside her door, the shadow of a man, and Wren began to sob. They could do whatever they wanted to her so long as she was reunited with Mikael and Alec in the afterlife.
And maybe, just maybe, he was bleeding now too.
Hopefully they all were. Caspian, Kieran, Toby… damn them all to burn in hell.
The iron crank of a rusted lock shrieked, encroaching light burning her eyes as the door parted and a man peered in.
“Are you sane?”
Considering the one who asked, Wren hiccupped—an almost laugh in all her misery.
Toby peered in at her, the look on his bruised face setting a thump in her chest that almost knocked the wind from her lungs.
“I don’t blame you, sunshine.” He slipped through the door, closing it behind them so just the two of them were sequestered in the shadows. Kneeling, he lifted her shivering body so she might rest against his chest and steal warmth. “I don’t blame you, but I do request…”—he spoke the word as if testing it. As if really wanting to say demand instead—“Yes, I request that you capitulate. You cannot win, sweet girl. You must apologize.”