They’d been waiting for us—and I barely recognized them but for the fact they were allies of Holden’s.
My vision bled red at the edges, fists tightening at my sides. The ancient, feral fog had settled over my mind, smothering me completely as one backed up, then went after Crescent.
I snapped.
My omega.
CRESCENT
Karma told me to run, so I ran.
I couldn’t look back, not without tripping, and my heartbeat was pounding so hard in my ears that I couldn’t hear.
There was only the hard stone in front of me as I fled.
All I had to do was get to the room.
I’d slip inside with Karma, and he’d watch the hall. If anyone came down who wasn’t the rest of the pack, he’d slam it closed. My only job was to run until I got there.
You can do that. Easy.
There was a loud bang as I ran, but I didn’t stop. They’d told me, before all this started—don’t stop until you get to the cell. Keep running.
But when I careened to a stop in front of our door and tried to push it open, it didn’t budge.
It was… closed.
I whined and tugged at the handle until my fingers ached. The metal barely wiggled.
Locked.
We were locked out until morning.
And I…
I finally spun back around, and stared down the now still hallway.
Where was Karma?
All I could see were the stone walls in the dim night lighting, and a hallway that stretched into a dark blur in my poor eyesight. But there was no figure moving in it, no flash of rich, auburn hair, and deep umber skin that contrasted the light greyish-white outfits we all wore in here.
Instead I was left with what Anarchy called silence. Screams and shouts, distant and near, faint shudders as an aura flared in the distance. Air, cool upon my skin after being trapped beneath this stone for so long.
I shrank back, hand still pressed onto the door.
He was supposed to be following me. How did he fall behind when he was so much stronger and faster than me?
I was completely alone.
I glanced over at the Emerald pack door, but it was shut. We’d told them we were turning in early, not wanting anyone else to know our plans.
Beside me, on the wall, was the mural Karma had painted. The crescent moon that had been defaced with a cage and the words: ‘She’s never getting out’.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
The silence was suddenly oppressive, broken only by my frantic breathing and the ever-present grunts and screams of feral alphas.
Iwasgetting out.