Page 74 of Pretty When She Breaks

“You have quick reflexes. Good instincts. You’ll be okay,kid,” Hugo had said to me before we’d been returned to our cages.

I wished I could believe him.

The medic ripped open an alcohol swab and rubbed a patch on my arm. A cold sweat started down my back, and the voice telling me there was no use struggling was ignored. I bucked, trying to get my arms free as she picked up a syringe with a clear liquid and flicked it with her finger.

Rofetamine.

It had to be.

My struggles were useless, the shackles on my hands digging in so hard, I was sure they’d leave bruises. There was a sharp pinch, then white-hot agony spread from the site, tearing through my veins. I distantly registered footsteps hurriedly leaving the ante-cage and the sound of the metal door slamming. But my head was pounding as the drug overwhelmed my body.

I’d had a rut before, but this was so much worse. There was the sharp taste of metal in my mouth, red bled to the edges of my vision, and there was fire in my veins, pulsing, demanding to be let out.

I roared, surging forward and slamming into the wall. As a bright light invaded the space, I turned. A door opened to my right, and beyond that, the smell of blood and sweat and threat—of another alpha.

I roared again, and I could do nothing but charge into the light, determined to meet this threat and vanquish it.

THIRTY-NINE

THE DUCHESS

I felt the moment the rofetamine hit Ocean’s bloodstream. It seared through our bond, a wave of polluted rage, making nausea swirl in my stomach. The glass I was holding shattered as it slipped from my hand.

“My apologies,” I managed to choke out as everyone turned to look at me.

My father’s gaze was hard.

Finch was stiff, no doubt feeling the same from Ocean in the bond.

“Excuse me,” I said, barely able to focus as I made my way to my dressing room, closing the door behind me. My skin was prickling, and I was coated in a sheen of cold sweat. I gasped for breath as the poisoned fury continued to pulse from Ocean.

My head was hurting, and my scent was leaking from me, surrounding me with a heavy, cloying, overly sweet perfume. My body was trying to respond to Ocean, trying to reach andcalm him, though I could do nothing. Everything in me was screaming to run to him, to try and soothe him.

I had my alphas, my scent matches, but they’d claimed me in the most twisted way. They’d surrounded me with their contempt and hatred, and it had only been Ocean’s steady reassurance that had kept me grounded. Now that was gone, there was nothing. My dark bond felt hot, and it was throbbing with pain with every beat of my heart.

The feel of them through the bond was so much. Too much. It felt like it was tearing me apart.

A knock on the door behind me made me jump. “Laurel. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you have two minutes to pull yourself together and get back out here,” my father snapped.

“Yes, Father,” I said, controlling my breathing. I tried to stand, and then, thankfully, my bond with my alphas suddenly changed.

It was like a switch had flicked, and all the feelings muted, what was once an onslaught of emotions now a faint trickle. My scent stabilized, becoming fainter and settling back into its default pleasant emptiness. The pain in my bond mark worsened, burning like fire, but I gritted my teeth and stood, bracing my arms on the counter.

I could handle pain.

I wiped the sweat off my face, freshened up, and fixed my makeup. I carefully pulled aside my dress and peeled back the dressing to look at the bite mark. It was inflamed, the teeth punctures raised and red lines joining the black that spidered out from the center. I straightened, gazing at myself in the mirror until no one but the duchess looked back at me.

When I stepped out of the room, a smile on my face, I was able to focus again. Finch met my eyes, his own face pale, but there was grim satisfaction in his gaze at my suffering.

FORTY

OCEAN

We crashed into each other under the bright lights, then it was nothing but snarls and pain, of ripping and clawing and the feel of flesh under me.

I would not lose.

Every strike against me ramped my rage higher at the audacity of my challenger. I could feel his aura, a surge of energy that couldn’t measure up to mine. He should have known not to challenge me, and I could feel his desperation mix with anger at his futile efforts to subdue me.