Chapter 60

The rough fabric of the sack scratched against my face as it was yanked away, leaving me adjusting to the limited moonlight. We were definitely outside—and above ground, thank god—but surrounded by trees. My first thought was that they’d taken me to the park, but there were no streetlights and too much leaf litter.

No, this place was too wild, completely unmaintained. My heart plummeted as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

We were outside the walls.

My breath came quickly as panic warred with the instinct to hold it in until I was somewhere safe. I clung to that instinct as my vision began to narrow at the edges, refusing to fall completely under and be more vulnerable than I already was. It was the only thing that kept me from spiraling into a full panic attack.

I’d never been outside the walls before. As I looked around at the scattered gathering of makeshift tents and shoddy shelters, I realized just what I was up against.

“You’re Rogues,” I gasped, horrified.

“We’re survivors,” one of the security guards holding me snapped.

People stopped and stared as I was dragged through the small camp, unable to even walk with my ankles still handcuffed together. They were dirty and haggard, but…calm? Everyone knew Rogues lost their minds, attacking indiscriminately, but the eyes looking back at me held none of the mania or bloodlust that I’d always pictured.

It was so oppositional to what I knew about Rogues that I couldn’t help but notice it, even in my dire situation. They must have been banished quite recently to still have their reason, but then why did their walking paths look so well-worn?

The guards—the Rogues—carried me to what looked like a makeshift roundhouse, made with tarps and bundles of sticks. It was dark inside, and before my eyes could adjust they had my hands tied to the end of a rope. I didn’t even get the chance to struggle.

“Don’t kick,” was all the warning I got before I was laid none-too-gently on the hard ground, someone holding my ankles in a hard grip while someone else unlocked the handcuffs around them. They sprung back quick, like they expected me to use my new mobility to attack them, and frankly I probably would have. I was running on pure instinct.

I instantly tried to stand, my still-cuffed hands making it difficult, but I was able to get my feet under me. They’d looped a length of paracord, maybe four feet long, around the chain of the handcuffs, with the other end attached firmly to the trunk of a living tree that was part of one of the walls. There was no way I was cutting this cord, or yanking down the tree.

I was well and truly trapped.

"Welcome to your new temporary home," Fay's husky voice came from behind me. Fear and anger clawed at my throat and I whirled around, stumbling slightly as my bound hands threw me off balance.

"What do you want with me?" I demanded, struggling to keep the tremor from my voice.

"We’re not going to harm you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Fay said, staying near the edge of the hut where my rope didn’t reach. Her voice was firm, but not hostile. “We’re not fucking savages.”

I thought back to the surprising coordination I’d glimpsed in the camp, and I realized she was very right about that, at least.

"That doesn’t answer my question,” I said, every muscle tense. “What do you want with me?”

“You’re a bargaining chip,” Fay said bluntly. “Your ransom will be the supplies we need to make it to the next city.”

A bark of laughter escaped me. "You're insane. They'll slaughter you the moment you show your faces."

"We don't have a choice!" Fay snarled, her composure cracking. "And neither do you. You should have never come snooping around for the Omegas."

My breath caught as Fay turned on her heel.

"Wait!" I called out, desperation clawing at my throat. "What do you mean about the Omegas? What did you do to them?”

But Fay didn't even pause, her retreating form disappearing through the tent flap without a backward glance. The canvas fell shut behind her with a soft swish, leaving me alone in the dim interior.

"Dammit," I muttered, running my hands through my tangled hair. My mind raced, trying to piece together what little information I had. The Omegas, the supplies, Eclipse... there had to be a connection, but I couldn't pull my scattered mind together enough to see it.

It wasn’t going to help me anyway.

Now that I wasn’t being directly observed, panic began to set in. My breathing grew ragged, and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I sank to my knees, curling protectively around my stomach.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the gravity of our situation crashed over me. I'd promised myself, promised my unborn child, that I would keep us safe. But now here I was, imprisoned by Rogues—I had failed my baby before they'd even taken their first breath.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered again, cradling my belly. "I’m so…” My voice broke off as a fresh wave of sobs wracked my body.

I was completely at the mercy of the Rogues’ whims. I was helpless to protect us, and helpless to hold back the panic attack that was taking hold of me. I almost lost the baby last time, and this time I had nothing to anchor me to reality.

I sobbed so hard I heaved, just praying that Elroy was a better father than I was a mother, and that he’d still think we were worth the effort to save.

#Chpater 61 Ines

I truly believe that panic attack would have never stopped, if it weren’t for my body’s eventual exhaustion. I would have cried and screamed until my heart gave out, I would have died right there, but by the Goddess’s grace I passed out first.

My whole body hurt when I woke up, and my wrists burned from where I’d pulled uselessly at the cuffs. My throat was dry.

I can still feel the baby, my wolf said. We didn’t lose them.

“Thank the Goddess,” I croaked, eternally grateful for this one silver lining. I hadn’t killed my child—I still had the chance to do right by them.

Even if I had no clue how.

I sat up slowly, hissing as various aches made themselves known. Sleeping flat on the hard ground hadn’t helped, and I felt bruises forming where I’d rested on gravel and pebbles. It was the worst sleep of my whole damn life.

It was morning now, at least, according to the light filtering in through the blue tarp roof. I could hear the sounds of the camp beyond my prison and for a long moment I just leaned against the tree and listened.

Eventually, though, I had to turn my mind to what I was going to do. As desperately as I wanted to find the Omegas, my first priority now had to be getting myself and my baby out of this alive, and my best chances of that were to cooperate. I didn’t like it, but if Fay was being honest about her use for me then she needed me alive to bargain with anyway.

Her plan baffled me, though. If it went he way she wanted then she and her Rogues would have enough provisions to get them to Darkmoon, the next city over, and they could seek refuge there where their crimes were unknown. But if her scheme failed, then she was bringing down the full might of the most militaristic pack in Lunaris down on her head.

It was a huge gamble, and there were a thousand things that could go wrong. Then again, she really wasn’t kidding—they truly didn’t have a choice. Every day they were here was a day they risked discovery, and since they’d actually managed to come and go from the city without notice, there was no way they’d be left alive once they were found out.

Footsteps crunched in the leaves in front of my prison, and a shadow fell across the tarp on the doorway. My exhausted heart managed to give a few painful thumps of fear. Whoever was out there, they were coming straight for me.

The fabric pushed to the side, and my mouth dropped open.

“Ines!”

Ines Hardy, 47, was the seventh Omega to go missing. And here she was, walking freely around a Rogue camp , looking dirty but healthy. I was confused, sure, but that didn’t change how elated I was to find her alive.

“She said you would know me,” Ines said, walking right up to me and sitting down, putting a folded handkerchief in front of me. It fell open to reveal nuts and jerky, and I salivated. Olivia took a little first, as if to show me it was safe to eat, before nudging it towards me.

“Go ahead and eat,” she said, pulling a disposable water bottle from the bag at her hip and passing it to me. My parched throat made itself known, and I couldn’t help it, I guzzled that thing down without a second thought. “Fay said you’d want to talk to me?”

“Yes,” I panted, still clutching the near-empty bottle. “Absolutely! I’ve been looking for you for weeks, I’m so glad you’re alive, but—but how? Are the others here too?”

Ines nodded calmly, looking totally unphased. “Everyone’s here, and I know you won’t believe me, but we’re safer here than we ever were inside the walls.” I gaped at her, uncomprehending. She just sighed.

“You know about my husband?” she said. I nodded quickly. Peter “Pete” Hardy was a mechanic, a ‘work hard play hard’ kind of man who often rubbed people the wrong way. His and Ines’s only son died in a house fire a year ago.

“I met him,” I said, “looking for you.” Ines’s smile was bitter and wry.

“My condolences. When you get back, arrest him for murder.” My eyes popped wider.

“What?” I asked. I wasn’t going to lie, I hadn’t really liked the guy when we met, but it didn’t feel like anything more than two personalities not meshing. I didn’t get the sense he was dangerous.

Ines looked me dead in the eyes, her own hard and flat.

“That bastard killed my son.”

She told me everything, the years of offhanded comments and subtle bigotry, the total control he had over the house and finances. How she’d given birth alone after he’d stormed out, and had almost died from a uterine rupture that left her infertile. How Peter had never forgiven her for not being a ‘proper Omega’ and giving him a football team of kids.

She told me her son’s name was Tanner, that he played catcher on his middle school baseball team, and that he was allergic to shellfish. She told me that he’d died by the hands of his father the very same day he presented as an Omega.

She’d tried to save him, but Pete had locked himself and Tanner in a bathroom and she couldn’t get the door down. She listened as her baby boy screamed until he wasn’t able to anymore. Pete had beaten him to death, stomped his skull in right there on the cheap linoleum.

I turned to the side and heaved. Ines patted my back as I emptied my stomach.

“I never thought he’d go that far,” Ines said quietly. “He’d had anger issues all his life, but he’d never raised a hand to me or Tanner. But I was blind.”

The fire had been a cover-up, and no one had investigated. Ines had said nothing, knowing her Mate would kill her too if she even tried, and that her death would be worthless because no one would listen anyway.

“I knew I had to get out,” Ines said, looking me in the eye. “And now I’m out. And you’re not taking me back.”