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Chapter One

Saylor

I blink at McCabe as my brain tries to process what he just said.

He’s on this morning’s schedule. They’re going to put him down.

That is not happening.

“No way,” I hiss, shaking my head so violently that my hair whips over my face.

The action doesn’t help force away the horrible thoughts.

Valor is a person , not a dog with rabies.

This is insanity.

He’s a good man. He might have made some mistakes in life, which led to him getting tangled up with the wrong crowd, but no one is perfect. He’s been nothing short of respectful and kind to me. He even looks out for the omegas who can’t protect themselves. It’s not his fault this place is awful.

What would losing Valor do to Omen?

No.

I’m not even letting my head go there, because it’s not fucking happening.

“Take me to him,” I say as firmly as I can muster.

The British intelligence agent studies my face. “You understand he’s not the man you know. Not right now.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and not because of his words.

The concerned look on Omen’s face replays in my head. He said not to go to Valor…that I wouldn’t recognize him. That part scares me more than anything.

Where did your fake-it-until-you-make-it energy disappear to?

Huh, Saylor?

Rolling my shoulders back, I tilt my chin in the air. “I don’t think he would truly hurt me, and neither do you, or you wouldn’t have come to get me.”

Okay, maybe that’s a leap, but it seems rational.

McCabe’s blue eyes narrow as he studies me even more intently. “Fair enough. You’re braver than I gave you credit for.” He takes off down the hallway, and I have no choice but to jog to keep up. “Or dumber.”

That’s not foreboding or anything .

* * *

We follow the hallways until we reach a set of large double doors.

McCabe uses his key card to get through them, and on the other side is another nondescript corridor that looks the same as all the others.

Halfway down, we reach another door with a lock. It opens to a set of steep stairs that have what feels like a strip of sandpaper across them. There are also weird pokey triangles where the concrete pops up in strange rivets. It wouldn’t be noticeable if I wasn’t barefoot, but it’s annoying as hell. The drop in temperature is also majorly inconvenient, considering I’m already freezing.

The bottom of the stairs opens into a long corridor lined with black doors.

Fluorescent bulbs dot the ceiling, flickering as we make our way down the hallway. It feels a lot like a horror movie set in an abandoned asylum that I watched in high school and never quite recovered from.

No, it reminds me of my first day here, and the memories come cascading back. The way the man dragged me down a hallway that looked exactly like this. How terrified I was not knowing what was happening. My body even helpfully replays the nausea and confusion.

My hands fist, and I do my best to force away the fear.

Valor is an alpha.

Alphas are predators.

He’ll be able to scent my terror, and it will only intensify his primal reactions.

My heart beats so violently, I can feel my pulse in my ears.

I’m not sure how it took me this long to remember, but I still smell like Shaw.

This has the potential to go so badly.

McCabe stops in front of a door on the right side of the hallway and turns to face me. “Last chance to back out.”

“Will they release us if he bonds me?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

I’m feeling really underdressed and vulnerable.

“They won’t euthanize him,” McCabe says flippantly. “Although, those blokes who got themselves locked up just to rescue you might have something to say about it.”

My stomach drops.

He’s not wrong.

They’ll understand… I hope they will, anyway.

I mean, I would come for them if they were rabid. There are life-or-death consequences if I don’t act.

It could also mean your death if you do.

I’d like to believe Valor won’t hurt me, but what if that’s just his body in there—like his mind is completely gone, and whatever is left is just baser-level reactions.

Goose bumps erupt on my skin as I try to settle my breathing.

What if he really is lost?

Is there a chance I could come face-to-face with a rabid alpha who doesn’t even recognize me?

I can handle rough sex and a claiming bite, but what if he’s so far gone that he tries to kill me?

McCabe said he murdered the prisoners he was put in with.

Could that be me?

I’ve always been stubborn.

A huge part of me wants to believe that we have some deep connection that wouldn’t allow for that. Another pragmatic piece of my brain says that we barely know each other, and he did something scary enough to get put in here.

When I offered to help get him and Omen out if they protected me, he specifically said he was locked up for a reason.

My lower lip rolls through my teeth as McCabe watches me.

I should probably take this opportunity to kick him in the balls for helping the awful doctor give me the injection that forced me to answer her questions during intake.

“Come on,” the guard says, giving me a look I can’t quite decipher. “I’ll take you back to your cell.”

Could I really do that, knowing what they plan to do?

No, I don’t think I could.

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had to go back and explain to Omen that I could have saved his best friend…only, I didn’t because I chickened out. “Open the door.”

The British alpha stares down at me for so long that I start to squirm. He must have broken protocol to bring me here, and he did it for a reason. If he truly believed Valor would kill me, I don’t think he would risk it.

Leo and Shaw mentioned that he’s undercover. Having one of the omegas die on his watch while being on a completely different floor from where I’m supposed to be would be majorly conspicuous.

If nothing else, I trust that he doesn’t want to risk blowing his cover.

“Go on, open it,” I say again, hopefully firmer this time.

McCabe finally sighs, spinning around and slamming his key card into the back of the door handle. The device reminds me a little of the ones on a hotel door or like the ones we use to get into our dorms at my school.

The door creaks as he pulls it open.

A whoosh of cold air hits me in the face. My nose wrinkles, and I try to determine what that metallic smell is.

I stumble back a step, my eyes widening as it clicks.

It’s blood.

What I’m smelling is blood.

Oh, shit.

That feels like a very bad sign.

“Back to torture us again, McCall?” The deep Scottish voice belongs to Conrad, the massive red-haired man who helped Valor on the court when he was being attacked by all of those men.

Did he get McCabe’s name wrong?

How would he know his name in the first place?

The guards never share that information with the rest of us. Leo and Shaw only found out because he helped them get into the facility. Maybe he has all sorts of deals going on with different prisoners? It would be a solid way to keep us all indebted to him.

McCabe—who might be McCall—grabs my arm, dragging me into the dimly lit room. The wall just inside the door is lined with a wooden bench. Circular rings dot the floor just in front of it at a width of about two feet apart. I think they might be used for shackling the prisoners.

“Nah, right back out with you, lass,” Conrad growls, drawing my attention to the far wall. He points through the bars on the cell he’s trapped in. “Take her right the fuck back the way you came!”

Three large cells take up the opposite side of the room. They have brick walls that separate them, but the front of each is covered in thick metal bars.

Conrad is on the left.

At first, I think the cell in the middle is empty…until I spot the crumpled heaps lining the floor.

There are at least two dead bodies.

Maybe three.

It’s impossible to tell with how hazy my vision gets.

The dark pools that line the floor around them are definitely made up of the blood I’ve been smelling.

“I always knew you to be an opportunistic prick, but this? You’ve got to be taking the piss.” Conrad glares over my shoulder, speaking to McCabe. “Take her back to Omen!” he barks, and I whimper, stumbling backward.

A low, feral growl radiates around the room. It comes from the third cell—the one I can’t see into from this angle—and it echoes through my body, making my knees weak.

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll shoot you in the face,” McCabe says drolly. “How about that? It’s the only way to find any quiet when you’re around, but last I checked, you’re not in charge here.” His hand on my shoulder tightens, and he gives me a shove toward the third cell. “He’s this way. No sudden movements, Saylor.” It’s strange hearing him use my name, but he called my father like he said he would, so he obviously knows who I am.

A growl that sounds more like it should come from an animal than an alpha fills the air, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. Goose bumps break out down my arms and legs, and I fight back the whine that tries to escape.

“My apologies,” the guard says as something cold and metal presses against my temple. It doesn’t take long for my brain to register that it’s a gun barrel.

We come to a stop in front of the door of the third cell.

Valor sits on the floor in the back corner of the small room with his face buried in his hands.

He is covered in blood.

I gasp, and his head tilts animalistically as a feral snarl radiates from his chest. He goes from sitting cross-legged to standing before I can even say a prayer that none of that blood belongs to him.

McCabe shoves me at the metal bars next to the door to the cell.

I fight against his hold, trying to back away. My instincts are whatever one step past frazzled is. It doesn’t help that there’s no recognition to be found on Valor’s face as he bares his teeth and stomps across the room, coming closer with every long stride.

My thighs clench as pure terror washes through my system. I try to settle my breathing, but my chest rises and falls in rapid pants that do nothing because it feels like there’s no air.

Valor reaches through the bars, snatches a handful of his T-shirt, that I’m clad in, and pulls so violently, my face bounces against the metal with a painful thump.