Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

FREYA

K ate was gone for a while. I don't know how long exactly, but it seemed like almost a day. I got one meal of bread and water while she was away. It's the only way to tell time, but even meals never feel like they come at the same time.

After cursing the enforcers out like a damn hellion and fighting their grabby hands, she was eventually dragged out of the basement.

Loneliness set in very shortly after her shouts faded away. I've never had friends or someone I really wanted to be around, but in the short while I sat with Kate, I grew a little attached.

Being alone is all I know, even in the presence of my mates, but meeting Kate and seeing our similarities made me yearn for a friendship I never knew I could have.

I might have my mating bonds crackling just beneath the surface of my breastbone and my omega making herself known in my mind and instincts every once in a while, but a fellow omega who has been broken time and time again showing the same rage and spark I've tried to hold on to for years gives me hope.

I say broken because even though the Kate I initially met was full of sass and irritation, the one before me is a shell of herself.

When she was brought back down here, her feet drug, but not in defiance, in exhaustion. Since then, I've been trying to get a response out of the omega still lying flat on her back.

"Kate," I say with a bit of bite in my tone, getting more anxious as the silence drags on.

For the first time in hours, Kate finally shows signs of life beyond just staring at the ceiling. "SHHH," she shushes me.

My eyes widen, and a smile tilts my lips at the show of sass. At least the crazy omega I met is still in there.

"You okay?" I murmur, not wanting to bug her but needing to check on her.

Kate rolls her eyes and head until she's glaring daggers right at me. "Do I look okay?"

"Uh," I respond stupidly, because no, not really .

She huffs, but her gaze softens as she studies me. I don't know what she sees, but the longer I watch her, the more my scent sours with worry and fear. Not only for my new friend but for myself, too.

"I'm okay, Freya. Just tired and really sick of this place is all," she says softly, like she's trying to protect me from the truth.

I frown. "What's the truth?"

A sad smile tugs on the chapped skin of her lips. "I really am fine, Freya. Seriously. I'm used to this, it just... sometimes it doesn't feel any easier."

I contemplate Kate's words for a while as her eyes flutter closed. I pluck at one of the holes in my large T-shirt absentmindedly; the motion soothing some of my anxieties.

Everything about what she said reminds me of my time at the academy. I got used to it. Their treatment of omegas, the strict diet, burning showers, frequent blood draws, punishments, isolations, lack of omega comforts. All of it.

Except, just like Kate said, some days being used to it didn't make it easier. Sometimes it made me even more depressed. Just the reminder that you're used to the constant abuse and despair has the power to take all your progress and bring it crashing down. Usually over your head as you struggle to stand as is.

Like glass shattering over your bare shoulders as you fight to push off your knees. Each sharp edge that pierces your skin is a reminder of all that you have suffered. It's never-ending because there's no way out.

"Can I do anything, Kate?" I whisper. The desire to ask her what happened while she was gone is weighing on me, and while I may have never had any friends, I can tell when someone else needs one.

Kate doesn't need me forcing answers out of her right now. She needs someone to care for her, even if it's from separate cells. I know this because my life has been riddled with moments I needed someone, just one person, to offer me a helping hand or a soothing voice.

She opens her mouth and looks at me with something clearly on her mind, but she hesitates. I understand that more than anything too.

"Whatever you want to ask for, I won't judge you."

Vulnerability softens the prickly edges of her attitude. "How do I know that?"

I shrug because I honestly don't know. "I guess you'll just have to take the chance."

Kate nibbles on her lip, then rolls onto her side with her hands tucked beneath her hair. "My papa used to tell me stories when it felt like the world was crashing down around me. Even as a teen, he'd rub my back and tell me about a young girl going on adventures away from her crazy life."

My eyes prick with tears, but I don't let them fall. I wish I had memories of a father like that, or even just one family member.

"You want me to tell you a story?" I ask.

Kate hesitates again, but nods. "Please," she whispers, breaking my heart just a little more.

My omega lifts her head at the show of my friend's obvious despair, making a whine crawl up my throat. Instead of suppressing the sound like I've been trained to do, I allow it to slip free.

From one omega to another, I will show Kate she has someone who cares, and that starts with showing my own vulnerabilities and emotions.

And a story.

So I begin with a description of a small town off the coast of the ocean. One filled with sunshine, coffee, laughter, and beach days. A story that is worlds away from the dark basement we are starving and aching in.

I weave a story for my friend, one born from my dreams.