Book Trk
Chapter 12
The burn in my lungs feels damn good as I push myself harder, running the perimeter of the base. My boots pound the dirt, kicking up dust behind me.
I can’t stop thinking about her.
Ivy.
Her scent lingers in my nose even out here. Earthy and sweet, like honeysuckle vines in the forest.
And it’s driving me fucking crazy.
I glance over at the squat concrete building that houses our clinic. Plague’s got her locked up tight in there, doing god knows what.
Never trusted that creepy bastard, but Thane definitely does, so I gotta deal with it. Still don’t like it though. An omega in that condition…what the hell happened to her out there?
Movement catches my eye and I slow my pace. Wraith’s hulking form is skulking around the side of the clinic, his masked face tilted back like a monster scenting the air.
He ain’t the only one.
Caught Valek lingering earlier too, sharpening those fucking knives of his, pale blue eyes fixed on that door.
We’re all orbiting around her like she’s got us on leashes, and none of us even know why. It’s like some primal shit, ancient coding in our DNA compelling us to… what?
Protect her?
Claim her?
I don’t fucking know.
The fact that the Council supposedly sent her to calm us down seems like a fucking joke. She’s barely said a word since she came here and she’s already got us all fucked up.
I skid to a stop, breathing hard, hands braced on my knees. Sweat drips into my eyes, blurring my vision. But I can still see the rear clinic door, a monolith in the center of the main building, holding the secrets of the strange omega within.
‘Fuck it,’ I mutter, swiping my face with the bottom of my shirt. My feet move of their own accord, carrying me across the sparse grass, worn down to dirt in places by the pacing of restless alphas.
By my pacing.
The clinic door looms before me, dull gray metal. I raise my fist to knock, then drop it. Plague doesn’t want us bothering him. But the thought of her lying in there, hurt and alone…
A growl rumbles up my throat.
I can’t just leave her with him.
I test the handle. Locked. ‘Course it fuckin’ is. I could kick it in, but then I’d have to deal with Thane. And Plague. Not like I’m scared of that freak, but I don’t wanna get dosed with some freaky bioweapon shit.
Nah, I have to play this smart.
Huffing out a big breath, I turn and lean my back against the door, tipping my head back to thunk against the metal. Her scent is stronger here, seeping out through the cracks. I close my eyes and breathe deep, letting it wash over me.
Fuck, even stale and faded, it’s intoxicating.
At least I can tell from the steady, even beat of the heart monitor she’s still breathing. And not being tortured right now.
A soft scuff of boots on dirt makes my eyes snap open. Wraith stares at me from the corner of the building, head cocked to the side. I bare my teeth at him in warning, but he just blinks slowly, unfazed. He points one gloved finger at the door, then taps two fingers against his masked jaw. Asking a question.Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.
‘I don’t fuckin’ know,’ I snap. ‘Plague’s got her in there. Playing doctor shit or whatever.’
Wraith makes a low noise in his ruined throat, a rough growl of… concern?
Anger?
Fuck if I know. He probably wants to eat her.
And I don’t just mean her pussy.
Wraith drifts closer, looming over me. I straighten up, squaring my shoulders. He might be the biggest fucker here, but I ain’t backing down.
He just looks at me for a long moment, then jerks his chin at the door. Asking me a question again, but this time, I get it. I think. Do I want in there too? Do I want to help her, protect her, just as bad as he does?
‘Yeah,’ I growl. ‘Fuck yeah I do.’
Wraith nods, a sharp dip of his chin. He motions for me to get away from the door and I watch, thinking he’s a dumbass for trying the doorknob when he just saw me do it a second ago.
Then he gives it a sharp jerk and the whole fucking thing comes off, leaving the door to swing open on its hinge into the dimly lit room.
Well, fuck. Maybe there’s a use for the giant freak, after all.
I step over the threshold into the clinic, distinctly aware of Wraith’s hulking presence at my back. The air is cool and sterile, and her scent is stronger here, standing out, wrapping around me like a vice. My eyes adjust to the dim light and I see her lying there on the exam table, so still and pale she could be a corpse.
Wraith makes a dangerous noise low in his throat, a guttural sound that sets my teeth on edge. I glance at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but with that fucking mask, it’s impossible. He’s just staring at her, his massive frame rigid with tension.
I move closer to the table, my boots scuffing softly on the tile. She looks even worse up close, her skin almost translucent, dark bruises standing out in stark relief on her arms.
What the fuck did they do to her at that place?
Wraith is circling the table now, his head tilted down, his massive hands flexing at his sides. I can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves, a palpable thing that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I’ve seen him lose it before, seen the destruction he can cause when he’s in that state. So has my fucking nose. And right now, with her lying there looking so fragile, so broken…
I’m not sure if I’m more worried about what he might do to her or what he might do to anyone who tries to stop him.
He reaches out one giant hand and I tense, ready to intervene even if he puts me through the wall. But instead of grabbing her, he touches her face with a gentleness I didn’t think him capable of.
His gloved fingers, so large they dwarf her delicate features, brush over her cheekbone, down to the corner of her mouth. It’s almost reverent, the way he touches her, like she’s something precious and breakable.
For once, I don’t hear his breath rasping and whooshing through the vents and tubing of his gas mask. I don’t think he’s breathing at all.
Okay. Maybe he’s not going to freak out after all.
But then his hand drifts lower, skimming over the column of her throat, and I see it—the thick, ropey scar on her shoulder that mars her otherwise perfect skin. It looks like… a brand? Like something burning hot pressed against her skin and seared deep. And then I notice all the smaller bruises and scrapes on her bare arms that are harder to see in the shadow of the room.
Wraith goes utterly still, his fingers hovering just above the mark. I can hear the leather of his gloves creaking as his hands curl into fists.
‘Easy, big guy,’ I say, keeping my voice low and even, even though I feel on the verge of a freakout, too. ‘She’s safe now. We got her.’
He doesn’t react, doesn’t even seem to hear me. He’s just staring at that scar, his whole body thrumming with barely contained violence. I take a step closer, ready to put myself between him and her if I have to.
But then, just as quickly as it came, the tension seems to drain out of him. His shoulders slump and he lets out a long, shuddering breath, the sound distorted by his mask. He looks up at me, and for the first time, his blue eyes aren’t completely empty.
He almost looks human.
He points at the scar on her shoulder, then at the bruises on her arms. His meaning is clear.
Someone did this to her.
Someone hurt her.
Someone needs to die.
He doesn’t need to say the words for me to understand his meaning perfectly. It’s like a directive that’s been carved into my soul.
I nod, my jaw tight. ‘Look at that, big guy. We finally agree on something.’