Page 18

Colton

“You’ve been in far better spirits the past few weeks.”

Not even these stupid therapy sessions can bring me down. And although Laurant is always pretty guarded with his thoughts, at least around me, I don’t think he’s put two and two together about why I’ve been happy lately.

Which is good.

“Yeah, I guess I have.” The last thing I’ll do is elaborate.

Although my mood is definitely positive today, I didn’t sleep very well. Vivid dreams plagued me. Dreams of Mira in the throes of passion, alight with energy, sensuality. And while that would normally have made for an amazing night, in my dream, I wasn’t the one bringing her pleasure.

Rai was.

Why the fuck would my brain, mine , force me to see something so amazing through the eyes of someone else? It didn’t make any sense. And it also made me a bit grumpy when I woke up.

I was even more grumpy when I found myself all alone at breakfast and unable to track down the thoughts of Mira, Aubrey, or Rai.

I mean, I’m still happier than I’ve been in years, and I am stoked that my curse isn’t ruining my life so much now, but honestly, today is not the day for this shit. I don’t like not knowing things.

I’ll just have to scour the whole fucking campus and track them down.

After I get out of here.

“Have the breathing exercises been helping?”

I laugh before I can think better of it. Shifting on the couch, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, hands clasped. “I think I’ve just accepted it.”

“Accepted it?”

“That things will never change. Why fight when destiny is already set?”

Laurant’s eyebrow quirks. “Your mood has nothing to do with Miranda Amato?”

Mira’s name on his lips enrages my soul. The beast inside me slithers, roars, and a growl forms in my chest. I don’t fight it.

His arms cross, eyes narrow. “I don’t need to tell you how dangerous this is.”

That creature pushes and prods inside me. He is a threat to our Omega, it seethes.

“Maybe no one knows how dangerous I am.” My voice is borderline animalistic, low, and menacing.

“I’m not your enemy—”

“Aren’t you?” I spit. “You’re one of us. Cursed . And here you sit,” my arms gesture around the room, “warm and cozy. Safe.” I rise then, an ache forming in my gums as I go on. “One of these days, Laurant, you’re gonna have to pick a side. You wanna continue being a Beta lapdog that grooms your own kind to be sold into slavery? Or do you want to be an instrument of change?”

I have no idea where these words are coming from, but I feel them, believe them. What I say is right. My bones hum with the desire for progress, for retribution.

Rebellion.

I lean in close to his wide-eyed face and use all my strength to push my next words into his mind. “ A reckoning is coming, Laurant. Be sure you’re on the right side of history.”

As I stand to full height, his body collapses against the back of his chair, as though his whole form is deflated. I take a moment of self-satisfaction to look at him before turning for the door.

“Colton.”

Laurant’s voice is small, but there’s a touch of pleading in it that compels me to turn back.

The skin around his green eyes grows tight as he thinks louder than I’ve ever heard him, deliberately sending a silent message my way.

“ Aubrey. They’re taking him. Now.”

When the announcement bell rings unexpectedly, it sets me on edge.

“ Everyone report to Training Ground One immediately and be seated.” The male voice that rings through the P.A. system is devoid of emotion as it tells us to move, repeating the same command two more times.

Thoughts are abuzz all around, fearful and curious. This is all very irregular, and everyone knows it.

When I arrive, it’s with a sea of others, but I find Mira and Rai instantly and rush over to them. “Where the fuck have you two been?”

They look at each other, despite Rai’s blindfold, then back at me. Mira’s thought pushes into my brain. “ We’ll talk after. ”

I’m not a patient person, but she’s right. This isn’t the time. I frown as we make our way to the mid-level bleachers and sit together, Rai to my left and Mira to my right. When we sit, Mira asks aloud, “Where’s Aubrey?”

My body stiffens. They haven’t seen him either. And that lapdog Laurant told me…

I look at her. “Later.”

She doesn’t protest, though she obviously wants to, just like I had. It’s written all over her face. Her thoughts are easier to read now that she’s near me, and that comforts me in a strange way I’ve never experienced. But there’s still some barrier between us that didn’t exist before, and it makes me fidgety.

When thoughts in a language I don’t recognize begin to flood my brain, my gaze snaps up to the center of the room, where I find several Cursed soldiers wearing GBE uniforms, their collars bright halos around the dark camouflage material. One turns to another and whispers to him, and I can see the red patch on his upper arm indicating he represents—is owned by—the Kingdom of Russia.

Two men in suits stand off to one side, talking to each other, and while I can’t understand their thoughts, I can feel the intent behind them. One of these men, the taller and youngest of the two, is angry beyond reason and filled with hatred.

He walks to stand alone in front of the lined-up soldiers and, without a word, demands our attention, which we give him in silence.

When he speaks, his accent is thick, his voice booms without a microphone. “My name is Damir Ivanov. I am second seat in the GBE Council.”

Well, shit. This can’t be good. The thoughts all around agree.

“I came here today on official business. An auction. But what I find instead is weakness. Freedoms no Cursed should be allowed. You are all allowed to live and laugh and do what you please. This ends. Now.” He impatiently snaps his fingers a few times at an entryway, and before there’s any movement, I hear them: Frenzied and fearful thoughts, hateful and defiant.

Four are marched in at gunpoint, two male Alphas, one male and one female Omega, additional soldiers walking drag behind them, wielding collar control boxes.

The world stops turning.

“ They’re my life.”

“ I am proud to die for them.”

“ This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

“ I love them!”

I am looking at our future; mine, Rai’s, Aubrey’s, and Mira’s.

These four are a pack. Cursed, and a pack. Mated.

Discovered.

I forget how to breathe as they’re brought before Ivanov and put on their knees, facing all of us. Both Omegas are crying, their tears stain their shirts. The two Alphas have obviously been beaten, their faces bruised and swollen, blood staining their shirts and some still dripping to the ground from noses and eyes.

“Some of you have been very free,” Ivanov spits. “Spreading lies about a rebellion of Cursed mongrels coming to save you.” His hateful gaze sweeps across the bleachers, like he’s trying hard to peer into our souls. “ There is no rebellion.” Lie. He knows there is. “No one is coming to save you.” Another lie. He’s afraid of something...someone. “And those who spread these lies, those who decide to go against the law and... mate without the Council’s consent, will pay the price. And make no mistake—you freaks of nature will never be given permission to procreate outside of a laboratory. And if you get that privilege, it will be with an audience in attendance. Your offspring will be taken from you the moment it is born. It will be raised to be a soldier from infancy, and you. Will. Never . See it again.”

Mira gasps beside me, soft enough I don’t think many could hear it, and I want so badly to comfort her. Take her from this place. But I can’t even hold her fucking hand in public.

This Beta monster’s hatred stems from something deep. Something he’s hiding, maybe even from himself. While I can’t understand the words in his mind, the emotions are clear as day. He means everything he says.

The thoughts of the pack, however, I understand very well.

“ How did they find out?”

“ We were so careful!”

“ He’s not even showing yet.”

“ We’re going to die…”

Fuck. The male Omega is pregnant. That means the suppressants didn’t work. How could that be?

Even being discreet in this venue is a risk, but I have to try. I have to touch Mira and Rai. It’s still easier for me to communicate in someone’s mind if I touch them.

I put my hands down on the bench between us so that my pinkies touch the outsides of both their thighs. Mira’s thoughts, which were mere whispers, are so much louder now. And although I don’t want to frighten her any more than she already is, it’s imperative that I tell her, and Rai, what I know about what’s happening below.

So that’s what I do.

Their reactions come in a rush of outrage and fear, but I latch onto one visual that invades my mind. A scene from the dream I’d had last night. Only...it wasn’t a dream.

Mira and Rai had really mated last night.

What I’d seen in my dreams must have been Rai’s thoughts broadcasting while they mated.

Jealousy and pure dread war inside me, dread winning out almost immediately.

If these GBE fuckers can find this pack, there’s no telling how long it will take to find others. To find us.

We should be rejoicing in the fact that we’re not alone, that there are more packs of Cursed out there, comrades. But instead…

There are some fleeting thoughts in the crowd that stand out among the rest, strong and undeterred, like they knew. They knew packs existed, fated matings, that the rebellion is a real thing and a war is coming.

I can’t tell whose thoughts are whose, but it is an overwhelming flood. There are hundreds of us here, all shackled by these explosive collars, all unable to do anything against these powerless Betas who have all the control.

People are angry. So very angry. And also helpless.

“These four,” Ivanov continues, his demeanor growing more boisterous, “dared to go against GBE law. Fornicating, all of them. Orgies,” he spits on the ground and mumbles something under his breath in Russian. “Omega whores—”

One of the Alphas roars and leaps to his feet to lunge at Ivanov, but before he reaches him, his collar turns red, and there is a pop, loud and echoing off the walls. His head explodes in a mass of red. Pink, gray, and white chunks scatter and blood smears across the floor in their wake. The gore is splattered across all the soldiers, the remaining pack that kneels before us, and Ivanov himself, who, with a look of utter disgust, wipes the matter off his face with his fingers and flings it to the ground.

While the two Omegas gape in horror, the female trembling, the second Alpha growls. His body begins to grow larger, muscles bulging so much they tear his shirt. Just as his teeth begin to grow long inside his open mouth, the male Omega flings himself at the beastly Alpha and screams, “No!” just before both their collars turn red.

Pop. Rain of blood and flesh.

There is a sensation in my throat, some mix of a gag and a sob.

A biting pressure increases on my knee as Mira grips it tight, her nails digging in, blunted by my jeans and her gloves. The beast in my chest slithers and threatens to growl, every sense in my being driven to scoop her into my arms and run as far away from this place as possible.

Instead, I am paralyzed, looking at the blonde Omega female who has all but collapsed to the floor with grief. Her mind is...empty. She looks at the fallen bodies of her pack, a slight tremor in her folded form, but no thoughts form in her mind. She’s completely shut down.

Ivanov takes a step forward, brushing more splatter from his suit, then he turns his back to us and points to one of the soldiers lined up shoulder-to-shoulder. Then his arm sweeps to the Omega, and he says, his tone crisp and authoritative, “ Ubrat.”

I don’t know what the command means, but the intent in his voice, in his mind, is...death.

I look at the soldier, the Cursed Alpha. His thoughts race, the words are Russian, but the panic is unmistakable. He does not want to follow this order. But like me, like all of us, he is powerless to defy without putting his life in danger, too.

The Betas know what they’re doing. They enslave us, put our lives in their hands, turn us against each other in every way possible. War isn’t the only battle we’re forced to wage.

The soldier takes a shaky step forward, his foreign thoughts become repetitive, and the only thing I can pick up is a name: Konstantin. It’s his. He’s telling himself something over and over again, psyching himself out by the energy of his words.

His steps are stiff as he leaves the lineup, circles the pile of bodies, stands before the Omega with his back to us. All my brain will process is how impossibly tall this Alpha is; he must be more than six and a half feet. The angle we’re sitting at, the Omega isn’t hidden by his towering frame. She moves for the first time in what feels like an eternity, tilting her pale, tear-stained face up at him, blue eyes wide, pleading. Not for her life. For death.

She longs to be with her pack, the ones she loves. Those who were taken from her.

The soldier, Konstantin, extends a shaking arm to her. His thought is so clear, so clean, and in English.

“ I’m sorry.”

The Omega begins to glow from the inside, so bright her bones appear as shadows beneath her skin. A scream rings throughout the room for a fraction of a second before her entire body is consumed by flame, a white hot blaze from within, a pile of ash left in its wake.

Dead. All four of these Cursed—people that, if pressed, I couldn’t tell you their names or if I even had a class with them in the ten years I’d been in the system—are dead. A pack, like mine, snuffed out just for existing. Maybe for knowing too much. Definitely for procreating.

Konstantin returns to his spot among the other soldiers, and Ivanov turns to look over the silent crowd. I know we’re all in shock because of the lack of thoughts all around me, even when I concentrate and try to pick them up.

“I trust you all understand what happens to those who break our laws.” His arms spread, commanding us all to look at the consequences. “I will report to the Council, and we will make changes here. Prepare yourselves.”

Ivanov snaps his fingers, and the lineup of soldiers swiftly escorts him out of the building, leaving behind the massacre.

No one moves for the longest time, and then some begin to rise and leave, and thoughts pick back up again. Rage. Fear. Disbelief. Loathing. And in the midst of all that, one internal voice stands out and invades my mind.

Something taps my shoulder in time with a repetitive thought.

“ The rebellion is real. The rebellion is real. The rebellion is real.”

My head snaps in the voice’s direction. Laurant. He stares straight at me, pale as paper, eyes like saucers.

“ Find them.”

How the fuck am I supposed to do that?