Not wanting to risk cutting through the house, I lead the wolves straight out through the staff exit. The door is unlocked, and I sigh in relief as a light sheen of sweat begins to coat my skin. The wolves follow me right out the door, and as if already having the boys’ scent, they storm around the back of the property. I hurry to keep up with them, my desperation knowing no bounds as I try to stick to the shadows.
I don’t see anyone around, no guards or cameras, so I race like a fucking maniac to the entrance of the underground playground. The wolves sail down the long, winding road with ease, and I push myself to keep up, each stride longer and more urgent than the last.
The downward plunging hill quickly levels out toward the bottom, and I stumble, falling straight to my knees. A soft cry forces it way through my clenched jaw, but I get back to my feet, my knees cut up and bleeding. I don’t turn on the big overhead lights, that’s way too obvious, but there are old oil lamps hanging along the row of cells lining each side.
The wolves take off far ahead of me to the point I don’t even see where they are, but that doesn’t matter right now. I have to find them. I have to know they’re okay.
Grabbing one of the oil lamps, I hurry through the cells, looking left to right. I find dead bodies of men I never knew, people demanding that I stop and free them, others calling me a filthy whore and trying to grab at me through the cells, but I don’t let it phase me. We can work on saving people once I have what I need. Hell, who even knows what these people did to end up down here in the first place. All I know is that these cells were empty when we left them a few short weeks ago.
The cells begin to empty out, and I shake my head, not liking this one bit. If they were down here, I would have seen them by now. I should have found them, but I keep going, refusing to stop until I’ve checked every last one.
There’s only a few more to go, but no more oil lamps light the way. There’s nothing but darkness up ahead, and with a shaky hand, I swallow hard and continue, not knowing what I might find.
Holding out the oil lamp, I try to light as much of the cells as possible. The first one on my left is empty, and dread sinks heavily into my gut as I turn to the right and hold up the light. The cell is used, dirty with pools of dried blood smeared across the cold, concrete ground. I shake my head, terrified of what I might find when a soft groan sounds through the remaining cells, deeper into the darkness.
My head whips around, my eyes wide, my heart frantic.
I know that fucking moan. I know it like I know my own fucking soul.
“Marcus?” I rush out, tears filling my eyes as I storm to the left, throwing myself up against the cold, metal bars. Thrusting the oil lamp forward, the dim light shines through the cell, and I find Marcus laying on the ground, his skin clammy and pale. “Marcus?”
He peers up at me through small slits, barely having the energy to open his eyes properly. “I knew it,” he says with a heavy, defeated sigh, sadness thick in his tone. “This is what heaven looks like.”
His eyes are glossy, and I quickly realize that he’s not really looking at me, but through me as though he doesn’t even see that I’m standing here in front of him. “Marcus, please,” I cry, dropping to my bloodied knees and reaching through the bars, trying to take his hand.
My fingers brush over his clammy skin, and his eyes open a little wider, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “So fucking beautiful.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What should I do?
I squeeze his hand tighter, tugging on it, pulling, letting it drop heavily to the ground, anything to try and get his proper attention. “Come on, Marcus. It’s me,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Look at me. You’re not dead. I’m here. Snap out of it. I’m right here.”
“Empress?” The sound is whispered like a question from behind me, and I latch on to the oil lamp again, releasing Marcus’ hand and all but bolting to the dark cell over my shoulder.
I slam into the bars, my chest immediately aching as I find Roman sprawled in the back corner, slumped down against the back wall, his head hanging heavy. “Roman?” I cry, my eyes scanning over his broken body.
His head slowly rises, and the effort looks painful, but he doesn’t stop until his obsidian eyes are locked on mine, the very weight of his stare dropping me to my knees. “Told you … to run,” he breathes, letting his head fall back against the brick wall, refusing to take his eyes off mine.
I shake my head, hastily wiping my eyes. “I’m not leaving you,” I tell him, letting him hear the determination in my voice. “I’m not leaving you here to die. Where’s Levi?”
“Look at us, Empress,” he breathes, not bothering with my question. “We’re as good as dead. Save yourself.”
I shake my head, my gaze sailing over the bars, trying to figure out a way to get them out. There must be a key … something.
Spinning around, I race to the final cell in the back, dread resting heavily in my gut as I shine the oil lamp toward the bars. A body lays across the ground and I suck in a breath, finding Levi sprawled across the concrete, not moving … not … No. “Levi?” I snap, gripping onto the bars. “Levi. Oh, God, no.”
His head pulls up off the concrete, his eyes opening to tiny slits. “Shayne?” he murmurs as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “That you, little one?”
Relief slams through me like a fucking rocket, and I fall to the ground once again. “Yeah, Levi,” I breathe. “It’s me. I’m going to get you out of here.”
“You should have run,” he tells me, groaning as he tries to get up off the ground, only it’s too much, and he settles for half crawling, putting one knee in front of the other before collapsing to the ground. It’s just close enough for him to reach through the bars and take my hand.
I squeeze it tight, gripping on to him with everything that I can as the memory of him begging me not to look crushes me from the inside out. “Not safe for you here,” he tells me, his skin just as clammy and pale as his brothers’ … only Marcus … fuck.
Tears stream down my face as I look to the cell directly across from Levi’s to find Marcus right where I left him, murmuring sweet nothings about how beautiful I look in heaven. “He’s dying, isn’t he?”
Levi nods, and it looks as though it takes all of his energy to look up at me, his dark eyes brimming with grief. “Yeah, Shayne. It won’t be much longer now. He’s got an infection. But I’m glad he got to see your face one last time.”