Chapter 8
The punching bag swings wildly as I land another vicious blow, sweat dripping down my face, muscles burning. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to quell the storm raging inside me.
Ivy.
That’s all I can think about.
The way her eyes went wide with genuine shock when I showed her the room, like she couldn’t believe that small, spartan space was all hers.
What kind of life has she known to be so surprised by something so basic?
The thought makes my blood boil, my fists flying faster.
I can still see her standing by the window, pale fingers pressed to the glass, staring out at the compound like it was some kind of wonderland instead of the bleak hellhole it is. She didn’t say a word, but I could practically feel the longing radiating off her, the desperate thirst to be out there instead of trapped in here.
With us.
With me.
Fuck!
I slam my fist into the bag, sending it careening. I’m her warden, not her savior. I can’t let myself forget that.
The door creaks open and I sense Plague before I see him, his presence like a shadow in the room. I don’t turn, just keep pummeling the bag, trying to ignore the knowing look I’m sure he’s giving me.
‘You’re going to break that,’ he says mildly, voice muffled by his mask. ‘And then you’ll have to requisition a new one. Again.’Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.
Does he ever say anything that isn’t critical?
I grunt, landing one last punch before stepping back, chest heaving. ‘Better the bag than someone’s face.’
Plague hums, moving closer. ‘Considering you’re in here and I just broke up a fight between Val and Whiskey, I’d say the omega is already having the opposite of her intended effect.’
I snort. ‘Well, she’s not fulfilling her ‘intended’ role just yet, either.’
‘Fair enough,’ he says, tilting his head. ‘And when exactly does the moratorium on touching her end?’
‘Are you asking for yourself or in general?’ I ask dryly.
He chuckles. ‘A bit of both. I may be the most civilized member of this little squadron of brutes, but I’m still an alpha.’
‘That’s debatable,’ I grunt, landing another punch on the bag. He’s right, it’s already starting to bleed sand. ‘The civilized part, I mean.’
‘She wasn’t treated well at the so-called Refinement Center, that much is clear,’ he continues. ‘Personal interest aside, I think she should be off limits until she’s been properly examined and cleared for more… intense activities. And it wouldn’t hurt for her to put on some weight. She’s quite fragile.’
‘And I guess you’ll be the one to give her that ‘proper’ examination,’ I say pointedly.
‘What can I say? There have to be some perks to the job,’ he says in a wry tone.
I roll my eyes, but at least the bastard is honest. ‘Fine. Everyone holds off until she’s cleared for mating—and until she consents. I don’t trust any of you fucks. But you get to wrangle her for the exam when the time comes. And if she bites you, consider it an occupational hazard.’
‘Fair enough,’ he says, pausing. ‘Her scent is quite interesting.’
I stare at the swinging bag in front of me. ‘Yeah,’ I mutter. ‘Interesting is one word.’
More like blood in the water. A scent so intoxicating I can’t get it out of my head.
And it seems I’m not the only one if even the usually calm and collected doctor is just as fixated on her as I am. I can’t help but wonder if the Council really sent her here to calm us down.
Or do they want her to be our fucking downfall?