Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

DANYAL

I t took six aching weeks for the last vestiges of that Alpha to fade, and I swore to myself I would never, ever let myself be vulnerable like that again.

Omega or not, my heats were my own. I would suffer, if it meant never risking my heart again.

I threw myself into my work until some days I swore I was nothing more than a walking lab experiment. Every time I felt a little tired though, or a little hot, panic would engulf me. Sometimes it was so bad, I'd get a call from Talia in a blind panic, thinking something was wrong, and it took long conversations to assure her that I was fine.

"It's just stress," I'd tell her, the lie coming easy. I think she believed it because it was easier than digging further into the psychological mess we all were in the height of the war.

Another heat never came though, and it made it far easier to ignore the advances of Alphas and Betas I worked with. Life moved on, the Alpha became nothing more than a dusty memory, and then the First War came to an end with the signing of the Equinox Treaty.

Of course, I wasn't a fool—nor were any of the Wolves I worked with. I was recruited into the rebellion before word of Kor Titus' abduction hit the public, but when I stood in front of the blossoming council with three Alphas, including my brother, it was the first bit of information they shared.

"We're sending in Bryn," my brother said, jutting his head toward a stoic Beta I had met a couple of times when Zane had come home on leave. "We've managed to pinpoint his location through a couple of Omegas that are working in the city."

I stared at the Beta and realized what my brother wasn't saying: this Wolf wasn't coming back. It was a suicide mission.

"There has to be a better way," I said, taking a step forward.

Zane let out a small breath and shook his head. "For now, we can't think of anything. The closest we can come are our Omega spies in the city. They're the only ones permitted to work in human government buildings. But they don't have the training we do, and there's not enough time to work with any of them. Not if we want to get our people back."

I bit the inside of my cheek, my brain going a mile a minute. "Maybe I can come up with something. We can't pass as human, but maybe…" I trailed off. The thoughts in my head were nothing but little starbursts—small atoms of ideas that were struggling to come together to form something bigger.

I needed time.

Zane smiled at me though and nodded. "That's what I was hoping for. We're moving underground as we recruit more members. We need a council of at least five, and that's going to take some time. Most of the Wolves aren't eager to believe this war is still on."

I wasn't surprised by that. We were all exhausted—we were all grieving more losses than we wanted to think about. We just wanted it to be over. "Well, I'm in. Just tell me where to go."

"We've got facilities in a cave system," one of the other Alphas said. If I remembered right, his name was Theo, but I knew there would be time to get to know them all. "We'll make sure you have everything you need. And in times like these, we could always use a doctor."

I wanted to tell him that my skills at practicing medical care were severely limited, but there was no point. After all, he was right—they could use men like me. I had enough training, at least, to help in an emergency.

Of course, I had no idea what was coming, and not just with the blind Alpha and the human Omega that was dumped into my lap a few months later.

No.

My past was about to jump up and bite me in the ass with sharp fangs.

The day the Alpha Council addressed the underground rebellion, I saw him. The night was too many years in the past, but his scent hit me first, and then his eyes fell on mine. Only they didn't stay there. They grazed over me like I was one of many in the crowd. Like I was just one of the Omega Wolves who had pledged their loyalty to the ones trying to stop this underground war.

In all honesty, I was surprised I recognized him. I hadn't caught his scent in the crowd—or if I had, it wasn't one I recognized. He had visibly aged, just like most of the Alphas who had spent their formative years on the front, and he looked world-weary and only half-willing to continue this battle. But he had his shoulders straight and his eyes front and was every bit the leader.

It was difficult, at least in that moment, to remember what he'd been like that night. A wave of heat crept up the back of my neck as I remembered through—the way his hands felt, his body, his knot. I remembered him in the bond after that, the way he pushed back, the way he filled my days and nights with his own regret.

I wasn't sure if I was going to be strong enough to face him, especially if he remembered. After all, what was that night to him? A way to pass time with a desperate, horny Omega lost to the throes of a heat? He had been my first—and the way my body was progressing, he would also be my last.

I made an attempt to escape the introductions afterward, but Zane was quick to grab my arm and pull me toward the new council. He skipped Lior Miller, though the only surprise there was that the weaselly politician was even on the council at all. He was well known across all circles as the Wolf who only wanted to make a power-grab, so I had a feeling my brother and the other Alphas were up to something.

I managed a quick hello to Theo and Francisco—the bonded Alpha pair who looked more exhausted than anything. I appreciated the way that Theo kept shooting dark looks at Lior though, but I couldn't focus.

Not when my Alpha was standing a few feet away from me. I met his gaze one last time, but there wasn't even a hint that he knew who I was.

His face was passive as Zane marched me in front of him, and it was out of habit more than anything that I tilted my head to bare my neck. I saw nothing—felt nothing other than the quiet heartbreak of knowing I wasn't even worth a quiet memory.

"This is my brother, Danyal," Zane was saying, entirely oblivious only because I had managed to block the bond. I had a weak grasp on it though, and I knew I had to get out of there before Zane picked up on it. "He's our only doctor right now, but he's working on a genetic program that will hopefully get us better spies in DC. Danyal, this is Mikael Ayala—right now he's acting Head Alpha."

Mikael. His name was Mikael. I extended my hand, wondering if it would trigger anything when our palms touched. His skin was warm against mine, and the ghost of familiar, but his eyes remained dead as they met my gaze. He said nothing, keeping the handshake short, just like he did with every other Wolf my brother had paraded in front of him.

Because to him, I was nothing more than one more Omega who would be barely useful in this war. To him, I was probably one of a sea of Omegas he used to pass the time when he was on leave, trying to escape the long months at the front.

To him, I was nobody. And when push came to shove, when all hope was lost, I knew that Mikael would be the one Wolf who wouldn't come for me.

I supposed, in a way, it was apropos that I was taken the way my brother had been—fooled by humans and overpowered before I had the chance to defend myself. I remembered the impact in the car hitting first, then the scent of chemicals, then a sting of a needle piercing my neck before the world went dark.

When I came to in the stone room, surrounded by pitch black, I almost laughed at the irony. The text message I had gotten from Zane—which was now obvious wasn't from Zane at all—flashed in front of my eyes. My desperation to find him and bring him home safe had gotten the better of me, and I had no damn excuse for my reckless actions.

If Kor let me rot here—wherever here was—it was no less than I deserved. I reached out through the bond, but it was obvious I was too far away for either of my siblings to get much beyond the fact that I was unharmed. For now. Zane's connection was feeling a lot less fractured and reckless, which meant he was likely safe, and Talia's was overcome with worry.

I used that to soothe myself as I pushed up from the floor and began to navigate the small room that was filled with a lot of nothing. For a short while I thought maybe I was blind—the darkness was all-encompassing, but it didn't take long for me to spot the smallest sliver of light through a crack in what had to be a door.

Which meant I was a prisoner they wanted kept alive.

For now. For as long as I was useful.

It didn't take a huge logic leap to know they wanted me for my work on the genetic program. I'd started to suspect someone had hacked into my workstation just a few days before, and my progress with Orion's experiment would be obvious to anyone who knew what they were looking for.

It also didn't take a huge logic leap to know it was Misha's father who was behind both the spies in Corland and my capture. Kasher was a brilliant scientist—if not a complete sociopath and an absolute monster. But there was something wrong with his work—which was obvious the moment I had a full genetic work-up of what he'd done to Misha. It was obvious his son wasn't the first of his experiments—and not the only experiment he had going. But I had a feeling that Misha was the most important and the one that had been so close to right that the failure and Misha's escape were probably more than gutting.

Getting him back had turned into an obsession.

Still, there was more to worry about than turning humans into Omegas, and I was more than aware of that. The reports we'd been getting from our Omega spies in the city all said that they were working on something to weaponize Wolves and give humans more power, but I didn't think it was possible. Wolves— perhaps. Our bodies were meant to host change, but unless each human turned out like Misha had, they would die.

And it was likely many did without even attempting a shift. Their organs couldn't handle the stress. Misha wasn't special as a human—at least, not as far as I knew. He was just fortunate. The Omega DNA was easier for a human body to accept, but Beta or Alpha would have easily been a death sentence in a matter of hours—days if they were particularly unlucky.

So, I knew I needed to prepare myself. They'd use something moral to try and incentivize my cooperation, along with threats of torture. They'd likely go through with some of it, though any one of them worth their salt would know they could only take it so far before they rendered me useless—and I was the only geneticist in our world who had come this far with my research.

I had to play it smart. This was an opportunity to gather as much information as I could because I knew Kor would come after me. He would send an entire team, if he needed to. My best bet was to play along—let them think they'd won and kill time before the rescue could get to me.

I just couldn't give in too easily. Kasher was reckless, but he wasn't ignorant. He knew how to play the game just as well as any of us. He might have been a scientist like me, but he was the product of the First War, the same way we all were.

After making certain the only thing in this little room was me, I began to scream. I let my claws out and dug at the crack in the door and did everything I could to put up a fuss. They wouldn't come for me until I'd exhausted myself, but they needed to hear me trying.

They needed to believe I was desperate.

It didn't take much for me to be convincing, though. In reality, I was shit-scared. My brain could slip into logic and focus on what needed to be done, but I was hurting. There were drugs in my system, I was dehydrated, and there was no telling when they'd let me out. Being unable to see, unsure of where the hell I even was, it was too easy to panic.

Eventually, I exhausted myself and laid in the center of the floor. I kept my eyes fixed on that sliver of light because when the door open, I'd be effectively blind until I adjusted. They clearly knew how to keep a Wolf, because all of my senses were dulled. It didn't bode well for me or anyone else they had captive, and I'd have to outsmart them and keep myself alive until Kor could send in his reinforcements.

I reached through the bond for my brother again and felt him safe and sleeping, and I allowed myself to cry just a little knowing that Orion had managed to get him out. I was afraid of what I'd find when I was finally taken home, but knowing he had survived was enough.

Halfway through drying my cheeks, I felt vibrations on the ground. Footsteps, I realized. I had just enough time to sit up and back away from the wall before the door swung open, and I shielded my eyes as rough hands dragged me to my knees.

I wasn't exactly sure what was coming next, but when the sting of a needle hit my neck again, I realized I wasn't surprised.

They kept me mostly unconscious for so long, I'd lost the ability to tell how much time had passed. It was throwing off my wolf—not just the loss of the outside world, but the ability to call him forward and shift. My reality remained that dark room, the meals I choked down while I was awake, and the fear that gripped me every time the door opened.

My assumptions about Kasher—if this really was Kasher—had been wrong. I was so sure he needed me, but I had no idea why I was alive or what they were using me for. My body ached all the time, and I was starting to think I would die this way. I was filthy, half-starved, and starting to feel desperate.

And then something changed. Most of the chemicals had left my system by the time I heard footsteps coming down the hall, but when I braced myself, there were no hands. I remained crouched in the far corner of the room that smelled a bit like old piss, and I waited.

But nothing happened.

My eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, and I saw a couple of men standing in front of me with their arms crossed. They smelled like humans—like blood and sweat and chemicals. They most likely had a gun trained on me filled with the cocktail of shit that would keep me docile and from being able to shift.

I could only hope it was an Omega who tore their throats out one day.

"What do you want?" I demanded, my voice hoarse from disuse.

One of the men stepped forward, then smirked when I flinched away. He didn't hesitate though, as he dragged me to my feet. "Time to have dinner with the boss."

It almost sounded civilized—if I hadn't been covered in my own filth after being trapped in some prison for the gods only knew how long. But I had no strength to fight as the two men marched me down the hall, then into a too-bright bathroom. There were no mirrors or anything that could be used as a weapon, but there was a shower, and I almost let out a sob when my gaze fell on a bottle of soap.

I didn't bother to wait for their instructions as I stepped up to the handle and turned on the spray. It was cold at first, but even that was heaven as I stood under it and opened my mouth, gulping it down in greedy swallows.

I felt a bit like myself as the heat began to rise, and soon enough the room was filled with steam as rivers of filth washed off my skin in gray foam. I watched it swirl down the drain, and part of me wondered if whoever had me wanted to break me down just a little bit more.

Maybe that's what it was about.

Maybe they wanted me to feel like there was some hope before stealing it all away.

Maybe that was how they reduced Wolves down to feral beasts.

I wasn't going to let it happen to me. Whatever they had in store, I was going to fight. I finished washing, then took a few more mouthfuls of water before stepping out to find a towel and a pile of clean clothes waiting for me on the edge of the sink. I was slightly surprised to find shoes as well—in exactly my size—and my nerves began to spike.

All the same, it was something. It allowed me to reconnect to myself as I slipped into the trousers and buttoned my shirt up. With straight shoulders and far less tremble in my fingers, I pushed the doors open to find the same guards waiting for me. They gave me a single, appraising look before exchanging a nod, then they turned on their heel and headed down the hall.

It was obvious I was meant to follow, and it was the first time I was able to get a good look at my surroundings. It was a house—old, mostly brick from what I could tell. It didn't feel like someone actually lived here, so I figured it was some sort of holding place for Wolves like me. Or maybe worse.

It didn't smell like the labs, but I refused to trust most of my senses at the moment. I had been mostly unconscious for too long, and I was entirely off kilter.

Taking a breath, I slowed as the guards did, then one of them reached out and turned the knob on a large, heavy wooden door. My nerves began to rise again as I stepped through, and I wasn't sure what to expect.

The guard had said dinner—but I wasn't expecting this. A long table was set up with a spread of food that made my stomach growl. I hated myself for it, but I'd been given so little over my capture, I couldn't stop myself.

I managed to keep my composure though, as my gaze settled on a frail man sitting at the head of the table, and he gestured to the seat on his right. "Dr. Bereket." The voice had a slight wobbling rasp showing his age. "It's good of you to join us."

"As though I had a choice?" I asked as I sat. I didn't recognize the man standing there. He was in a suit that might have fit him once, but he was gaunt now—likely dying. My ability to scent was off, either from the injury or from the drugs leaving my system. But I didn't need my senses to tell me this man's time on earth was short.

"We can do this…"

"The easy way or the hard way?" I finished for him. "Why don't you tell me what the hell you want."

He laughed, the sound half-choked, and he took a long sip of his wine before making a gesture like I should do the same.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I wanted to eat and drink. I wanted to pacify him until I could spot a weakness and then run. Instead, I looked at him, my hands at my sides, fingers relaxed.

"There's no point in fighting your hunger. I would have done this a bit more…civilized, but unfortunately I've found I can't trust dogs like you."

The insult was meant to sting, but I'd heard it too often from humans to be surprised or to care. Taking a breath, I lifted the glass to my nose and sniffed it, sensing nothing but the grapes the drink had come from, and the dirt where they'd grown. It was almost hot on the back of my tongue, and it warmed me to my core.

The man—Kasher, I was assuming at this point—gestured with his left hand, and suddenly two people appeared to fill our plates. It was simple fare, steamed runner beans, chicken, potatoes, but it was a feast for me. My fingers trembled again as I lifted my cutlery, but I deliberately took slow bites, not watching him as I ate.

"Are you going to tell me what you want?" I finally asked again.

He shrugged. "Eventually. It's not pressing."

I took another drink of the wine, then reached for the water glass, realizing I was still dangerously dehydrated. "How long have you kept me here, Dr. Kasher?"

His thin lips stretched in an almost sick smile. "You figured it out?"

"It wasn't difficult," I told him with a shrug. He looked nothing like his son, but he was everything Misha had described. "Your spy made it obvious you were going to make a grab for someone."

"And you figured it was going to be you?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling foolish because I should have been able to realize the text was a decoy. But I was too afraid of missing something important from Zane. "Believing the text was my mistake."

His brows rose, and he made a considering noise as he sat back. I noticed he hadn't touched his food, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the disease ravaging his body. I couldn't get a good scent on it to know what it was, but it didn't matter. The man wasn't well. "That's surprisingly observant. We would have taken you either way, but I'm glad you made it easy on us."

I almost laughed. Did he expect me to agree with him? To find any humor in this situation.

"To answer your other question," he said when I offered nothing more, "you've been here two weeks."

I jolted at that, my heart thrashing in my chest for a moment. Two weeks. I'd been captured for two weeks, and no one had been able to find me yet. The chances of a rescue slimmed considerably. "And what do you want with me?"

He looked at me another long moment, then smiled as he threw his napkin on the table and pushed himself to stand. "We're going to have a lot of time to chat, and I can fill you in on the details. But for now, we have a plane to catch."

Panic seized me. A plane?

"This is a terrible idea," I told him. "You know that my people will come rescue me."

He laughed again and shook his head. "I have no doubt. I knew it would be difficult getting you out of the country, but I was also told you were a reasonably docile animal. Especially since we have the means to control any sort of…outburst."

I couldn't help my wince, and I hated that it sparked joy in his beady eyes. "Where are you taking me?"

"Away. There are things spiraling out of my control right now, Dr. Bereket, and I'm on borrowed time. Now you can come of your own volition under guard, or you can come drugged and unconscious. The choice is yours."

It wasn't much of a choice at all. I couldn't handle another stretch of time being drugged. And I didn't need to see the guns pointed at me to know they were there—and I didn't need to see the look on the guards' faces to know they'd take no small pleasure in putting me down like the beast they thought I was.

I lifted my chin, then climbed to my feet. I could feel the tension in the room rising. They were afraid. This man wasn't, but the ones behind me—they had no idea what we were capable of. And I planned to use every second of that to my advantage.