Page 34 of Lost Wolf (Exiled Omegas #2)
Blake
At my feet, another wolf lies dead, the most recent in a long line of shifters who have lost their lives to my teeth and claws. He would have killed me if he could—that’s the way this whole thing works. Instead, after less than five minutes his blood decorates my muzzle, his chest still as the life seeps out of him.
And I feel nothing.
Not elation at the win. Not pity for the dead. And damn sure not grateful to live another day.
I ignore my surroundings, letting my head drop as my sides heave with exertion. The ragged claw marks across my flank itch as they slowly heal, the sensation an unpleasant reminder of the fact that I still live.
On the other side of the fencing encasing the fighting ring, the crowd cheers and claps, reveling in the violence and death. They don’t really care who won. The mix of shifters and humans have all paid a premium to be allowed into the seedy underbelly of the casino and the fickle mob would have cheered just as loudly for my opponent if it were my blood splashed across the ground.
I’m nothing to them, simply the monster I’ve been turned into for their entertainment.
The metal door at the side of the ring rattles upward and one of my “handlers,” a male beta, edges into the ring holding one of those long poles with a loop at one end. I forget what the thing is called, my human knowledge not as accessible in wolf form, but I know what it’s used for.
I see the damn things often enough.
As the beta approaches, another handler—this one a human—steps into the space just beyond the door. The human clutches a black remote in one hand, his gaze narrowed on me, just waiting for any sign of misbehavior so he can push the button to send a surge of electricity through my body.
He needn’t bother.
Early on, I fought back and used every opportunity to try to escape, but as the days and months and years passed, I resigned myself to my fate. My existence has been reduced to an endless procession of fights, to nothing but blood, pain, and death.
I’m never getting out of here. Not alive anyway.
The beta slips the loop over my head and settles it in place before tightening it. The wire digs into my skin as he tugs me toward the doorway, but I don’t resist, plodding docilely along behind him. The human falls into step next to the beta as we descend further into the bowels of the casino’s highly secured lower levels.
First, they take me to a tiled room where the beta holds me in place as the human blasts me with a hose. The frigid water washes away the remnants of the fight, blood and dirt swirling down a drain in the center of the floor. They allow me to shake off the excess water, but don’t bother with drying me or anything like that before leading me back to my cell and locking me in.
The space I’m allocated is bigger than the cage I arrived in, but it’s a prison all the same with concrete walls and thick iron bars. I retreat into the far corner, curling into a ball on the cold floor and shivering as I tuck my nose under my tail and try to doze.
Sometime later, one of the handlers tosses a few chunks of raw meat into my cell, then slides a hose between the bars to fill the bowl on the floor with water. Once their footsteps recede, I grab the meat, ripping into it with my teeth.
The taste of fresh blood reminds me of the wolf in the ring. Briefly—and not for the first time—the thought crosses my mind that after fights they might be feeding me my defeated opponents.
The idea turns my stomach, but not enough for me to leave a single scrap behind. Hunger is a near constant ache for me and my existence is painful enough without starving myself out of some misplaced sense of ethics. I can’t afford to have morals in here.
Time blurs together for a while as I let my mind drift, dissociating from reality as my body goes through the motions of living. Another meal of raw meat. Another fight. Another win. Another trip to the tiled room to be hosed down. Another trip back to my cell, the door locking behind me.
But this time, something’s different.
Instead of food and water, two shifters arrive, standing outside my cell and staring at me. They’re both in suits, standing with that casual pretentiousness that only comes with money. The one in front is broader than the other, and something about him screams power.
Likely the local Alpha then—the man who owns the fighting ring, the Vegas casino above it, and me.
He glances at someone out of my view off to the side. “I’ve been getting a few complaints,” he says. “The regulars are getting a bit bored with this one. He wins, but he doesn’t put on much of a show.”
Whoever he’s looking at says, “We had a replacement coming, but there were… complications.”
“I’m aware.” The Alpha scowls. “And with the triumvirate taking out the human and her two goons, there will be no more acquisitions from that area. What other options do we have as far as fighters go?”
“Not many, especially since we no longer have regular contributions from Rossi. Most packs aren’t willing to part with alphas, so without the humans…”
The Alpha crosses his arms. “So, we get betas instead. Set our so-called ‘champion’ here against five or six of them.” He turns to the shifter beside him. “Thoughts?”
“That might hold their interest for a while,” replies the shifter. “But if you really want to make things interesting, we should try to find an omega.”
The Alpha presses his lips together. “Wouldn’t the fight be over too quickly?”
“Maybe.” The shifter shrugs. “Maybe not. Either way, I’m sure people would pay a lot of money to see what happens if you put a feral alpha in the ring with a helpless omega.”
Rubbing his chin, the Alpha nods slowly. “The idea has promise, but where the hell are we going to get an omega?”
The person to the side clears their throat. “I don’t think they’re quite as rare as the triumvirate would like everyone to believe. We know Rossi stumbled across one in Chicago, and until it escaped a couple weeks ago, the humans had one in their lab.”
The Alpha snorts. “Stupid humans. They should have sold that omega to me along with his brother here.”
An omega … taken by humans… escaped… brother…
They’re talking about Ollie .
For the first time in I’m not sure how long, actual emotion rises in my chest, a painful mix of hope and yearning for my brother.
No matter what happens to me now, Ollie made it out. He’s free .
And that’s all I ever wanted for him.