Page 42 of Born For Lace (The Cradled Common #2)

Chapter Forty-One

Lagos

Five months ago

I must have blacked out.

My fists ache. I recall beating heavily armoured Marshals to death on the roadside, the Redwind a phantom that held us in a cloak, hiding all from sight. My skin shielded me from the razor-sharp sand, my third eyelid closed, making my entire eyeball a milky colour. I’ve been told it’s fucking terrifying to see the way my body activates against The Cradle’s lashing weather. Then, I recall the pain. Each blood cell plucked from my veins by tiny hooks, the sound of my roar, and…

I’ve lost track of time.

Now… it’s quiet, but a recognisable scent fills my nostrils… I inhale.

Beaming lights carve through the gaps in my eyelids, forcing me to open them to a familiar room.

The compound.

The air seems to lick every inch of my skin—I’m naked and strapped to a steeply inclined bed, not quite standing but definitely not lying down. My cock is erect and near flat against my stomach. Placed around the room, screens further immerse the white space with lights and the humming of internal fans.

Directly across from me is an expansive, shiny wall that partially reflects my own form. My blood roars instinctively, the sensation of eyes on the other side provoking a predatory response.

Lines stem from my veins to bags of fluid hung on either side of the elevated bed frame.

Gritting my teeth, I curl my hands into fists and test the restraints, growling and snarling when they only tighten, cutting into my wrists.

“It’s been twenty-four years since we last saw you.” A voice comes from behind me. “Zero Zero Six.”

I tense up. “Twenty-five.”

An older Xin De man is circling me, his tongue clicking as his feet rap smoothly. He is near my height, dark-haired, in a white shirt and white pleated pants.

“We barely recognised you, but your blood introduced you,” he says. “And we know your fingerprints, your DNA. It’s nice to have you back.”

He reaches out and grips my bicep, squeezing the thick muscle. Hard. “You’re a big boy now.”

A snarl hits my lips. “Lower.”

“Soon,” he replies easily, and my mouth flattens into a tight line.

For a moment there, despite the restraints, I was still Lagos the Rogue. A construct of the past twenty-five years, not the conditioned beast they engineered before it.

The sixteen-year-old Shadow in me wouldn’t have joked about such a thing. It wasn’t a joking matter. Not that.

He sees the shift in my manner. “Oh, you remember, then? You remember all the ways we will help you focus on your assignment. We don’t need to taunt you. You’re a very impressive Xin De male.”

It doesn’t matter. None of it does. I remind myself as I lick my dry lips, clinging to the subtle taste of her, to the memory of her… At least she is safe.

You’re safe, little flower.

They will believe the Shadow they were chasing was me, not the infant. But then the man smiles— No. Smirks . And I am reminded of my little flower and a ridiculous conversation we had, one that makes my chest ache with need as angry dread sinks claws into me.

Why is he smirking…

“We know,” he says.

I clench my teeth.

“We know about Tomar.”

My heart fucking races.

“We know he has the infant.”

Blood pulses in my temples.

Then he reaches into his pocket. My iron-blood boils as he retrieves small, white knickers. “We know about the girl.”

Rage eats my control. Sparks of energy detonate inside me, firing through my cells, grabbing hold of my muscles and bulking them. I thrash in the restraints growling and hissing, lunging forward toward him, needing to get my hands around his throat and bend it, collapse his trachea so he drowns on the blood pissing from his twisted arteries.

He hums, almost disappointed in what he sees. “You’re very reactive. Too much Common-time in the red waste will do that to a Shadow.”

I want to bark at him like a rabid dog, but the words won’t form around my thickening tongue or press between my gnashing teeth.

“You’re no good to us with a temper.” He smiles, and I continue to jolt around, unable to stop myself. This is my humanity. Feeling… This is feeling. I have too many for her. I am drowning, drenched in Dahlia. I will inhale every sensation, hold it, and care for it. I don’t want the humanity she has given me to go. I don’t want to lose it. Again.

“I’m going to enjoy working with you, Zero Zero Six,” he states with genuine satisfaction riding his tone and disappears behind me. “See-you soon.”