His skin was burning off in chunks.
Panicking, he slid his hand down his side.
“Shit, hold him down.”
Makar?
Was his boss here? Did he come for him?
Yes…No.…Maybe … He was probably hallucinating again. He wasn’t sure what was real and what was not anymore. Everything blended into one messed-up nightmare. He’d been here for months or days. He wasn’t sure of that either.
All he knew was the darkness and cold surrounding him.
And the hunger. Fuck, he was so hungry.
Hym hissed, wrapping his arms around his stomach, turning over on the hard floor.
“Damn, Asim, hold him,” Makar shouted again. “He’s going to tear his wound open.”
“Where?” Asim shouted. “I’m afraid to touch him.”
Hym frowned.
Asim was here too.
Out of the ten alphas in Alpha Force, Asim was the least social. He kept to himself. And Hym believed he didn’t like him much.
Why would he be in his hallucination?
Where was Thron? Was he dead? He was supposed to be here with him.
Did those bastards finally kill him?
He groaned in frustration.
He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t see.
He was still in that hole then, Hym sighed.
Their mission had been a bust the moment they left Alpha Force offices. There hadn’t been enough intel to go on, but he believed he and Thron could handle the threat.
But he hadn’t known that it would be this bad. That they would be tortured and held hostage for days.
Arms suddenly closed around him, and something sharp pierced his skin. Hym roared, blindly striking at whoever was trying to hurt him. He made contact – his fist slammed into hard flesh.
“I won’t be able to help him if I can’t sedate him,” an unfamiliar voice said.
“Shit, man,” Asim cursed. “How is he this fucking strong after days of being starved?”
“Shhh, Hym. You’re safe. We found you…we found you. Just calm down,” Makar said.
“Help me get him on the bed.”
Bed?
What bed?
Was he really out of the hole? Or were they playing mind games with him again? Hym snapped as he remembered the shit they’d done to him.