Page 42 of Midnight Bond (Wolves of Midnight #5)

JAGGER

Being alive but barely existing was absolute hell.

I was in a catatonic state, but my body was wide awake, every sense acutely aware. I could smell the spilled blood surrounding me, hear the shouts and crunch of glass beneath panicked feet, feel the hands lifting me into a chair and strapping me down once more.

Needles jabbed into my skin, and I didn’t react. I couldn’t. I was paralyzed, and yet I could feel everything.

“Hurry!” Dr. Sloane barked. “He’s useless to us if he dies.”

Poking. Prodding. Jabbing. It felt endless. They crammed an oxygen tube down my throat, and I couldn’t even choke on it.

“What about the female?” one of the other doctors questioned.

“We don’t have the resources to recapture her right now,” Dr. Sloane snapped. “With Mr. Coolidge dead, the mercenaries need a new field leader. I don’t understand how this even happened. The female was weak compared to the male. She shouldn’t have been able to escape our facility.”

The doctors continued to speculate among themselves, but I tuned them out. Only one word stuck in my mind and remained there like a flickering candle of hope.

Escape. Brielle had escaped. Which meant that she was still alive.

Relief barrelled through me, and I finally allowed myself to relax. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. Darkness tugged at me, and I sank in and out of consciousness. I didn’t know how much time passed, but after a while, the frantic voices and bustling around me faded.

I thought I was finally alone when a plaintive whine filled my head.

Onyx, I breathed out his name through our connection, relieved to hear him again. He whined a second time, the weak sound filled with confusion. We saved her, boy, I told him, and I immediately felt him settle.

Saved mate, he contentedly said.

Saved mate, I confirmed.

We lapsed into silence after that, the comfort of each other’s presence enough for us both. We’d struggled to coexist for so long, but in this moment, we were one entity. One being. We’d sacrificed everything to protect Brielle, and now, we could finally rest.

* * *

It felt like days passed. Time dragged by slowly, my existence little more than tubes and wires.

My breathing tube was eventually removed, but they kept an oxygen mask over my face, constantly monitoring my vitals.

Numerous vials of blood were removed from my body, and after catching bits and pieces of conversation, I finally figured out what they were doing with it, with me.

Trying to create a permanent cure for human diseases.

Werewolves contained DNA that humans didn’t, DNA that could eradicate sickness and all sorts of maladies.

But there was no absolving the toxin that bound werewolves to the moon’s cycle.

That toxin was a disease in its own right, and the scientists experimenting on me clearly didn’t want their cure to be infected with it.

Apparently, they thought I was the solution to this problem. The toxin in my blood was acceptable to them, all because I had the power to shift at will. Too bad they knew nothing about hybrids. Too bad their experiments were for nothing.

They’d find out soon enough that I wasn’t the solution they were looking for.

Every time they stuck me with another needle and I tried to move, my body failed me.

Never in my life had I felt this weak and helpless.

Despite willing all of my strength to Brielle, I’d somehow retained a sliver of it, just enough to keep me alive.

I didn’t know what was worse. Dying or existing in this vegetative state.

The immense strength I’d once possessed had left me, and I didn’t know if it would ever come back. I hadn’t tried to access it again through the soulmate bond, uncertain if Brielle still needed it. Our invisible connection was practically nonexistent, so threadbare that I struggled to feel it.

Could she feel it? Did she know I was still alive?

I wanted to call out to her, to hear for myself that she was okay. But wherever she was felt too far away. She was beyond my reach, a fact that brought me equal parts relief and pain. She was safe, but I’d sworn I wouldn’t let anything or anyone separate us again, and I’d failed.

Miss mate, Onyx softly whined, more subdued than I’d ever felt him.

He hadn’t tried to gain control ever since our strength had vanished, too weak to initiate the transformation.

But I could feel how sad, how miserable he was, not just because we’d been reduced to a pincushion but because Brielle was gone.

I miss her too, I told him, remembering our brief time in the barn together and how perfect it had been.

I’d finally had everything I wanted, but it had been too good to be true.

Fate must have finally realized that a beast like me didn’t belong with a beauty like her.

I was broken, now more than ever. Having a family of my own had been too much to hope for.

I would die alone, just like my birth family had wanted me to. Just like—

NO, Onyx abruptly growled. Miss mate. Miss family. No die. No die!

Surprised by his outburst to my morose thoughts, I didn’t respond.

Must fight. Must live! he went on, so impassioned that I couldn’t help but feed off that unexpected burst of energy.

Wait.

That energy hadn’t existed before. It was new.

For the first time since I’d given my essence to Brielle, I allowed myself to think of the future again. Maybe this wasn’t the end for us after all. Maybe, just maybe, I would see my beautiful mate again.

Hours later, I had enough strength to open my eyes. An hour after that, I moved my fingers and toes. I still felt weaker than a newborn pup, but every hour that passed, a little more strength infused my body. It was progress.

Even more, it was hope.

* * *

“Are you sure we should test the volunteers on a full moon? Maybe we should wait to administer the serum in a few days.”

“He’s a hybrid, Dr. Fenway,” Dr. Sloane answered her male colleague. “Hybrids aren’t affected by the full moon and neither will our test subjects. You’ll see.”

The man protested with another concern, but I tuned him out, focusing on the fact that only two days had gone by since Brielle had escaped.

Two days of remaining perfectly still so the humans experimenting on me didn’t know I’d regained mobility.

Partially, anyway. I didn’t know if I could break free of my restraints again, but I felt strong enough to do some damage if given the opportunity.

“I’ve made my decision,” Dr. Sloane snapped, cutting through my thoughts again. The pair weren’t directly beside me but close enough that I could easily overhear. “I’ve been in this wheelchair for five years, Dr. Fenway. Five years. I’m not giving this disease one more day of my life.”

“I understand, Anita, but—”

“No, you don’t understand,” Dr. Sloane interrupted. “My body is a ticking time bomb, and every day that passes, this disease devours more of me. My vision is growing worse, and my memories have become more and more muddled. I need to test the serum now while I still can.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m done discussing this, Dr. Fenway. The volunteers know the risks and are willing to accept them at the chance of being cured. Get them ready, or I’ll find someone who will.”

A pause, then I heard the retreat of footsteps as Dr. Fenway no doubt went to do her bidding.

Dr. Sloane wasn’t one to be trifled with and clearly wasn’t above firing anyone who got in her way.

Her eagerness to test the cure would only end in failure, though.

The human volunteers would shift with the full moon the second that serum hit their bloodstream.

But there was no guarantee they’d survive the transformation process. Humans with compromised DNA were at greater risk of their bodies rejecting the werewolf toxin. Brielle had been healthy, and even she would have died if not for Nora’s healing magic.

“This is going to work. I just know it,” I heard Dr. Sloane say before wheeling away. Silence fell over the lab, but I remained perfectly still. Onyx did the same, for once understanding the need for patience.

Not long after, several voices filled the lab, some I recognized and some I didn’t. The human trials must be about to begin. A quick peek confirmed it, and I watched through lowered lashes as a handful of people in hospital gowns were led to glass chambers and strapped down like I was.

They looked excited. Hopeful. And probably had no idea that a cage awaited them one floor below if the test failed.

No one seemed to notice me tucked in the corner of the lab.

I’d been discarded, forgotten, left to rot in this chair.

My contribution to their “cure” was over, and they no longer needed me.

Not even bothering to carry me down to a containment chamber, they’d simply thrown a sheet over my comatose body and walked away.

The sheet had slipped from my face, though, allowing me to observe everything.

Dr. Sloane was wheeling from chamber to chamber, offering words of encouragement to each subject.

Doctors and assistants were everywhere, pushing supply carts and hooking up the volunteers to monitors.

I spotted a few armored guards stationed near the exits, their weapons carefully concealed.

The viewing platform overlooking the lab—the one weak spot that Brielle’s wolf had used to escape—was still devoid of glass, but the mess had been swept clean.

All-in-all, the humans seemed prepared to face whatever outcome that came from these trials, but I alone knew the truth. They were playing with fire, and all hell was about to break loose.

When it did, Onyx and I would be ready.

The humans received their injections moments later. Dr. Sloane looked on, closely watching them with hope in her eyes. Seconds passed. Minutes. When nothing happened, the doctors began to restlessly stir. One of the male test subjects suddenly cried out, but it wasn’t a pained cry.