Chapter 34 Syra

But it doesn't come from Thorus. It doesn't even come from inside the prison. It comes from outside, from beyond the outer wall, and it is soon accompanied by other howls—howls of pain, howls of rage, the rattle of gunfire and the din of battle.

My eyes snap open.

I am not on all fours. I am not touching Brik. I'm still lying on my back at the front of the cell, naked, shivering, drenched in sweat. It was only a hallucination.

I turn my head and look through the bars. Thorus is still there too, still hanging from the railings of the walkway.

Still alive

And around him, all hell is breaking loose.

"Intruders!" a voice shouts. "Alphas!" cries another. "We're under attack!"

Some of the Farlanders scatter. Some of them leap down from the walkways where they've been standing, enjoying my performance. Others climb to higher levels seeking safety. The only alpha who seems to stay put is Hadrian. He maintains his position on the walkway right behind where Thorus is hanging. His dagger is drawn.

"Kill him!" Delphine shrieks, pointing at Thorus. "Kill that alpha!"

I watch in horror as Hadrian lifts his blade and starts to bring it down in a quick, sweeping arc toward my mate's chest. I scream.

"Nooo!"

With lightning speed and perfect timing, Thorus swings his legs up and catches Hadrian's wrist between his feet. Then, with one quick jerk, he yanks the alpha over the top of the railing, sending him tumbling to the floor below. When Hadrian stumbles to his feet a moment later, the hilt of the knife is protruding from the middle of his chest. He clutches it, as if to wrench it free, then topples backward onto the floor and remains there, unmoving.

"Shit!" Delphine shouts.

She draws her stiletto, just like the one she tried to stab me with in the barn, and she draws back her hand as if to throw the weapon at Thorus.

I won't let that happen.

Summoning the last of my strength, I surge to my feet and thrust my hand through the bars of my cell. Delphine is just within arm's reach. I grab a fistful of her lustrous blonde hair and tug with all my might. The back of her skull hits the bars with a loud kong, and she slumps to the floor outside the cell.

Anton is standing a few yards away. When he sees his omega go down, he lets out an anguished cry and rushes to her side.

"Delphine!" He shouts. "Delphine, can you hear me?"

She doesn't respond.

Anton shifts his gaze toward me. His eyes burn with hatred. He bares his teeth in a vicious snarl.

"You cunt! What have you done?"

In a flash, he's on his feet again, holding his knife. Delphine's third mate, the one I stabbed in the barn, is standing next to him. Without taking his eyes off me, Anton gestures toward the end of the corridor.

"Get this door open," he growls. "I'm going to kill this fucking cunt."

"Maybe we should be leaving," the other alpha says. "It sounds like the intruders are—"

"Do it!"

With a nod, the other alpha turns and rushes away, out of my field of vision. I guess the mechanism that opens the cell doors must be down there at the end of the corridor.

Or maybe he's decided to abandon Anton and Delphine and run for his life.

I'd like to think it's the second option, but I'm pretty sure it's not. Soon, the door to my cell is going to open, and when that happens, there will be nothing standing between me and a very pissed off, knife-wielding alpha. Brik is in here with me, and I'm certain he would be more than a match for Anton in a fair fight, but Brik is chained, so he's not going to be able to help me.

I can hear the battle raging outside the window. It's getting louder. The alphas from the Central Ruins are getting closer. They'll be inside the prison soon, but not soon enough to save me from Anton, I'm afraid.

I need to think of a strategy, and quick.

"The floor next to the bars," Brik says behind me. "Right side."

I look at the spot he's referring to, and my heart jumps a little. Delphine's stiletto. When I slammed her head against the bars, it must have fallen out of her hand and tumbled into the cell.

I lunge for it.

I'm dizzy from my heat. My legs feel unsteady beneath me. My muscles are weak and aching from dehydration. My speed is only about half of what it should be. Nevertheless, I'm able to grab the weapon and curl my fingers around the hilt before Anton can stop me.

He makes a grab for me between the bars.

His hand catches a lock of my hair, ripping it out by the roots as I twist away from him. It hurts like hell, but at least I'm able to get away.

And now I have a weapon.

But how much good is it going to do me? I still don't stand a chance against Anton. That's not humility talking. It's a simple fact. He's an alpha. He's bigger than me, stronger than me, faster. Even on a good day, he would tear me limb from limb, and that's without my heat robbing all of my strength and coordination.

Brik's chains…

There must be a lock holding them together.

Maybe I can pick it with the blade of the stiletto.

I rush to the back of the cell where Brik is kneeling. His scent hits me like a slap. The sight of his bare muscles and hard cock sends goosebumps racing across my skin. In spite of everything that's going on right now, my heat is still raging out of control, and it's all I can do to keep myself from jumping on him and riding him until he knots me.

I force myself to focus.

I find the lock.

It's immediately apparent that I won't be able to open it with the stiletto. The keyhole is far too small for the blade to fit inside.

"Cut off my hands," Brik says.

"What?"

"Cut off my hands. It's the only way to get me out of these shackles."

He's serious.

A cold feeling tightens my guts.

I don't want to cut Brik's hands off. I also don't think I would be able to. Not with Delphine's stiletto, anyway. The blade is thin and straight, designed for stabbing, not sawing through bone. It would take me several hours to cut through one of Brik's wrists, but we don't have hours.

And even if we did…

From behind me, there comes a clang of metal, followed by the rumble of gears. I whirl around to see the bars at the front of the cell slowly moving to one side. Already, there's a gap of several inches. A few more seconds, and there will be enough space for Anton to step into the cell with me.

"Syra," Brik growls. "Get behind me."

I would like to do that. I would like to cower behind my courageous mate, but I know it wouldn't work. Even a powerful alpha such as Brik has his limitations. With his arms bound and chained, he will not be able to fend off our attacker for long. Anton will kill him. Then he'll kill me.

I'm not going to let that happen.

Brik has saved me more than once. First he saved me from the Farlanders in the cemetery. Then he saved me from my own heat in the cave.

Now it's my turn to save him.

Or die trying.

The bars at the front of the cell are more than halfway open. There is plenty of room for Anton to get in, but he waits, glowering at me with hate-filled eyes. Only when the door is fully open does he finally move forward.

"I'm going to kill you," he says. "I'm going to kill you for what you did to Delphine."

I hold the stiletto in front of me with both hands. My arms are trembling, a combination of heat and fear.

Anton steps into the cell. The blade of his knife glints in the sunlight streaming in through the window behind me.

"Syra!" Brik says behind me.

"Kill you…" Anton growls.

He takes another step into the cell. His eyes are totally focused on me. He doesn't notice the large puddle of slick I left on the smooth concrete floor.

He steps right in the middle of the oily fluid.

His foot shoots out from under him.

He falls back onto the floor with a heavy thud, his body lying half in and half out of the cell.

I should probably pounce on him, but I don't. At this point, I don't have the strength for pouncing. Instead, I just rush forward and sort of fall on top of him with the stiletto still clutched tightly in both hands. The tip of the blade enters beneath his chin. I put all of my weight behind it, and it slides deep, all the way to the hilt. Anton lets out a surprised gasp, and I can see the gleam of the blade inside his open mouth. His body twitches for a moment, then his eyes roll back in his head and he goes still beneath me.

"Anton!"

I turn my head in the direction of the shout. Delphine's third alpha, the one who went to open the door to my cell, is returning down the central corridor of the prison. He can see me and Anton hanging halfway out of the cell, and he can see what I just did to his companion. His expression shifts from shock to rage.

He charges.

I tug at the stiletto buried in Anton's skull, but it won't budge. The blade is too deep, and my muscles are too weak from my heat. I don't even have enough energy to push myself off his corpse.

The charging alpha is now only a few strides away from me. He bellows with rage and prepares to lunge.

Something whispers through the air above me.

Followed by a wet thunk.

The charging alpha stops dead in his tracks. A hatchet is embedded in his face. He gurgles briefly, then collapses, dead.

I let myself roll off of Anton's body and look in the other direction. The double doors at the end of the corridor have been flung open, and a horde of alphas are pouring in, their faces and bodies gleaming with steel piercings. They are from the Central Ruins Tribe. They are here to save us. But there is one alpha who is closer than all the others, and he doesn't have any piercings at all.

"Markus!" I cry. "You came!"

He looks as though he has been to hell and back again. He's covered in bruises and cuts, and some of them look too old to have been sustained during the battle outside. His skin is pale, and he has dark rings around his eyes, as if he hasn't slept in a long, long time. He walks toward me, then drops to his knees and gathers me in his arms.

"You're alive," he whispers, holding me tight. "Thank the Source, you're alive."

"So are you," I say, holding onto him just as tightly.

Around us, alphas of the Central Ruins Tribe are securing the interior of the prison. Some of them are seeing to Thorus, while others are stepping past me and Markus to free Brik from his chains. The Farlanders have all either been killed or chased away.

"I hated to leave you," Markus says. "I didn't want to do it, but when I saw those Farlanders with the dart-guns, I knew I would never stand a chance alone. If I tried to fight them, I would either be killed or captured… and then I wouldn't be able to save you."

"I understand," I tell him. "You did the right thing, Markus. I'm so proud of you, and… I love you."

"I love you, Syra" he whispers.

Then he claims my mouth with a hard kiss that communicates far more than words ever could. Love doesn't even begin to describe the feelings I have for him and Thorus and Brik. The four of us are a pack now. Our souls are joined as one.

I just wish our bodies were joined too.

My painful heat has not diminished. The fight gave me a rush of adrenaline, and that masked my urges for a minute there. But now the adrenaline is fading, and my heat is returning, burning inside me even more brightly now that Markus is here.

As we finish our kiss, I reach up and stroke his jaw.

"Will you do something for me?" I ask.

"Anything, Syra. What do you need?"

"I need you," I tell him. "And Thorus. And Brik. I need you to help free them from their chains, then I need the three of you to fuck me, and I don't want you to stop fucking me until you run out of seed."

Markus smirks. "I don't think I'll ever run out, Syra. Not around you."

"In that case," I say, "I guess you'll just have to keep fucking me forever."

It sounds like an alright way to spend eternity.