Page 58 of Blood Day (Blood Alliance #7)

Lily

Screams haunted my dreams, plummeting me into a dark well of doubt.

I’d been here for almost a week, making one thought abundantly clear in my mind.

He’s not coming for me.

I could no longer think about his name. It hurt too much.

He abandoned me.

He might even be dead.

I had no way of knowing for sure. He’d cut me off in every way, leaving me alone in this nightmare of shrieks and animalistic grunts.

My roommate had been taken last night, leaving me alone in this cold cell. We hadn’t said much to each other, yet we’d formed a sense of solidarity in our prison.

She’d told me to call her Willow, but she’d never explained how she’d been given that name. Just as I hadn’t told her why I referred to myself as Lily.

Our relationship was tenuous and had formed in a mutual desire to survive .

But then the lycans had come for her.

I’d cowered in the corner, terrified they might mistake me for a breeding prospect.

However, they had only cared about Willow.

I swallowed, my gaze on the lackluster ceiling above me. I couldn’t sleep, my mind rioting with questions and worries. Is that Willow screaming in the distance? Is she even alive? Does she still want to survive?

Do I even want to survive? I wondered softly, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. Does he mean so much to me that I don’t see a point in living without him?

What a sad life I led if a vampire was my sole reason for wanting to exist.

But what else did this life have to offer?

There were no more classes. No more competitions for positions. Just a fate worse than death— the moon chase. And if I managed to do well there, I’d be rewarded by being rutted by these animals.

A shiver traversed my spine.

I don’t want that. I don’t want any of this.

Even if I escaped, where would I go? How would I live?

My hands curled into fists as despair strangled my heart and lungs.

I… I didn’t know what to survive for. There were no more goals, no more hopes, no more potential avenues in life.

I would never be a Vigil.

I would never be immortal.

I’m destined to be chased and fucked by savage creatures who see me as a chew toy, not a soul.

My stomach twisted as I forced myself to my side, the ceiling a blank slate of nothing.

Like my purpose in life .

I curled my legs into my chest and fought the urge to scream.

He had ruined me. He’d shown me a world I wanted to survive for, a relationship of meaning and pleasure .

Had it all been just a cruel game? A way to introduce me to something that he knew was temporary?

I hate him.

I hate the superior beings.

I hate this world.

I hate everything.

But most of all, I hated the frigid claws scraping along my insides. The gnawing sensation reminded me of death, almost as though my body had already deteriorated into that of a corpse.

I’m not dead yet, I reminded myself. I can survive this.

Which just led me back to the circular discussion of what that actually meant. Survive to do what? Live in agony? Become a lycan’s breeding slave?

He might come for me, a dying part of me whispered.

I ignored that hopeful voice, the one that had led to my current torment. It was the part of me that had learned how to love, how to live. But my reality no longer had room for that dream.

My reality was a nightmare.

Heavy boots punctuated that realization, the sound echoing down the corridor as they moved closer and closer. Please keep going. Please ignore me. Please don’t ? —

A key snicked in the lock of my cell, causing the hairs along my arms to dance. There was no feigning sleep. No hiding my body’s reaction from the approaching monster.

I opened my eyes, determined to face my fate head-on, but the lycan ignored me entirely, instead dropping Willow’s broken form on the ground.

No care. No compassion. No concern .

Just a grunt as he left her and slammed the door behind him.

I blinked at her still form. Shit . I didn’t think; I acted, rolling off the bed and joining her on the ground to check her pulse.

Steady.

She’s breathing, too.

The swelling along her jaw suggested that she’d been hit there at least once. I checked her head and found a bump, which explained what might have knocked her out.

Other than that, she had a few scratches and blood under her nails— she must have fought back —and a few bruises forming around her hips. Handprints , I recognized with a shudder. From a lycan rut…

I didn’t want to finish that thought.

Instead, I focused on making her more comfortable.

I rolled a towel for her to use as a pillow, doing my best not to move her neck too much in case the hit had done something to her spinal column. But she just appeared to be unconscious from the bump on her head.

Rather than return to my bed, I sat on the floor beside her. Something about it felt right, like I could offer her comfort while she recovered.

A ridiculous notion.

Perhaps it was actually me who needed the comfort.

I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my shins.

The cement beneath me resembled ice through my thin gown, making me glance at Willow again. She was naked, her gown having been stripped off of her.

My lips twisted. She’s going to freeze like this.

I reached behind me to grab my thin blanket and draped it over her, then pulled the one from her bed to do the same .

And resumed my position with my arms encircling my legs.

Time passed slowly.

Or maybe it was quickly.

I no longer had a concept of it, my existence revolving around the orders issued by the lycans.

Wake up. Shower. Eat. Return to your cage. Eat again later. Go back to your bed. Sleep. Repeat.

The dim lights told me we were still in the resting phase of the schedule. But soon the fluorescent strips above would turn on and burn my eyes.

Then the new day would begin.

Or night.

Whatever.

I hadn’t seen the moon or the sun in what felt like a month. An exaggeration. But being kept in this prison resembled an eternity.

An eternity without my mate.

He’d given me immortality through our bond.

Does that mean I may die during the moon chase, only to be reborn? I wondered, my lips curling down. What if I allow myself to be killed? Will they leave me outside to rot?

That might give me a chance to escape.

Unless the lycan rutted me first.

I studied Willow again, specifically her hands.

Dark words haunted my mind.

“They adore prey that doesn’t submit. And sexually skilled prey is even better. Because the harder a human works, the more aroused a lycan becomes.”

The voice was one I longed to hear, but the warning sent a chill down my spine.

Lycans liked playing with their food.

If I fought back like Willow had, I’d entice the beast—or beasts —into rutting me .

Which meant I needed to allow myself to be captured.

And just… die .

What do they do with the bodies afterward? I wondered.

But the lights flared to life before I could ponder answers to that thought.

“Rise,” a lycan barked over the loudspeaker.

The doors would begin to open soon, then we’d be expected to go through the bathing ritual.

Willow didn’t move.

I nudged her. “Willow?”

Nothing.

She was out cold.

Maybe the lycans would allow it since they were the ones to knock her out?

I wasn’t given time to consider it more, as the doors unlatched in the next moment. I stood and walked toward the exit, incapable of doing more than obeying the routine.

Several of us formed a line and moved into the showers.

I kept my head down as I usually did, going through my routine, and changed into the new gown provided for me. I grabbed a second one for Willow, then hurried back to our cell.

It technically broke protocol, but there were still a few others showering, which gave me time to wander back to my cell.

Willow hadn’t moved.

I set the gown on her bed and quickly returned to the bathing area, just in time to join the line heading toward the dining hall.

Eggs. Spinach. Banana. Bottle of water.

It was the standard fare, although sometimes we had chicken and broccoli in the morning. After spending a month with him , I realized how bland all this food tasted .

Another consequence of our forbidden game— refining my palate.

I chewed and swallowed, ignoring the lack of flavor and the pang in my chest. Rather than think of him and everything he’d shown me, I considered Willow.

She needs food .

Could I somehow smuggle some of this back to her? Maybe a banana and water?

Most of the lycans in the room weren’t paying any attention to us. The initial intrigue in studying their prey had waned over the last few days, our presence no longer new and exciting. They’d already picked the toys they wanted to play with; the rest of us were waiting for the inevitable chase.

I glanced at the food display and back at the lycans. Maybe I can grab something on my way back to my cell.

It would be a risk.

One that could garner some negative attention.

Or maybe it would earn me a swift death. Which I’ll just wake up from. Maybe.

I didn’t know Willow well. Was she worth dying for?

Does any of it really matter anymore?

I ground my teeth together, the hopelessness tugging at my spirit. Why not rebel a little? Why not grab some extra food and water for Willow?

I’d followed every damn rule, passed every fucking test, and I’d ended up here—in literal hell. Why? Because I could fight. Because I could run. Because I possessed decent sexual scores.

Had he added to those notes? Told the Alliance and the others how well I’d fucked him?

My hands curled into fists. I hate you, I thought at him. I hate you more than I ever thought possible. You’re a monster. A cruel Master. Was this all just a fucking game to you? Did you leave me here to die because it amuses you?

I didn’t even wait for him to reply.

Because I knew he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t hear me. He’d blocked me out. He’d abandoned me to this fate. Hell, he might have even been the reason I was here.

No, that’s not true, a small voice inside me argued. You know him. You know his mind. He ? —