Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

DANYAL

I hated flying, but the last thing in the world I was going to do was show weakness to these humans. I had braced myself for pain and torture from the moment I woke in that dark room, but it became obvious that's what they wanted—not to hurt me, but for me to fear they would. I had a peripheral understanding of what they were capable of. I'd seen the lingering evidence on Kor, and I had felt small bursts from my brother over the weeks he was missing.

I'd felt it in fits and bursts as they kept me unconscious for weeks.

But I refused to let the fear control me. The only thing I wanted was for them to believe I would do anything they asked in order to avoid mutilation—or worse. In reality, I was happy to accept whatever they wanted so long as they didn't get anything useful from me.

It was obvious Zivko Kasher had reached a plateau in his abilities as a geneticist. I didn't know much about him—only what the public did and what little private information Misha had shared with me after he reached the resistance. He was a megalomaniac, obsessive and narcissistic, and he was ruthless. His sons' only worth was based on their usefulness, and though Misha had never really mentioned his mother, I had a feeling she was either just as bad or willingly ignorant of the man she'd married.

Or, perhaps, she was just as much a victim as Misha had been.

Either way, I was being kept alive because it was likely I was the only being in existence with the knowledge to help Kasher finish his work. And that wasn't going to happen. I just needed to find out how much the man knew about me and what I had accomplished so far.

If he knew about Orion, the situation would be even more precarious.

Still, they didn't drug me that night. I was sent to an actual bedroom after dinner, and woke to a breakfast of actual food before I was allowed a second shower and another change of clothes. I wasn't rested, but I was strong enough that I could walk onto the plane without assistance. I was cuffed in front, shoved into a surprisingly comfortable window seat, and I was startled when Kasher's second son took the place across from me.

I recognized him from clips I'd seen on TV. Ivan Kasher was a cultural ambassador working for the US government, and he'd spent most of his time trying to convince governments around the world to enact stricter anti-Wolf policies. But in the few moments I'd seen him, I could tell there was something different about him—something unlike his brother, Alexei.

He looked a lot less like Misha than Alexei did—his face softer, rounder, his hair lighter. He had a thin mouth turned down in a frown, but there was something in his eyes that made my senses twitch. There was more to this man, but I didn't know what—and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I said nothing—I knew better than to give anything away that could potentially give them even more power over me. Right now, I was slowly regaining my ability to shift now that the drugs were leaving my system. I wasn't at full strength yet, but it was likely I could rip any of their throats out before they got the chance to fire the weapons they all carried on them. They knew it—and I knew it.

"How are you, Dr. Bereket?" he asked.

I raised a brow at him, surprised that he was using my title without the same level of sardonic amusement Kasher had. I didn't answer him though. There was no point because it didn't matter how I was.

"I didn't mean that in a cruel way. We have a long flight," Ivan said. His voice sounded far more like Misha's than Alexei's did. It was that same soft lilt of a scholar, unlike his brother who was every bit the politician. And there was something in his tone, something that matched his scent. Fear, maybe? Or hesitation. I watched him lick his lips with his nerves, then blow out a puff of air. "You should probably try to get some sleep. I have a feeling last night was rough for you."

I almost laughed at the thought. The stone room with no cushion had been my only sanctuary until Kasher let me eat and drink like a person. But the shower and fresh clothes and fitted shoes were a pathetic show of hospitality considering how I'd been kept over the last two weeks. The plane chair was almost more comfortable than the bed they'd given me the night before, and there was no telling what it would be like after we landed.

I probably could have slept—if I wasn't in a den of starving vipers.

"I'm good, but thanks," I told him, knowing how cold my voice was.

He stared back at me, almost like a challenge, but he said nothing else as the lights dimmed, and the plane began to taxi. Closing my eyes, I gripped my hands together and muttered every prayer I could ever think to every single one of our gods. I rarely flew—mostly because Wolves had been banned from it for so long and then from never being able to afford the absurd cost to get the permit for international travel that was required for Wolves when the treaty had been signed.

In spite of this posh private jet, the fear gripped me by the throat. My back hit the seat hard as we picked up speed, and my breathing began to hitch in my chest as we bumped along for a second. And then we lost the ground. The plane rocketed skyward, but my stomach remained firmly at my feet, rolling.

I was petrified for a long moment that I was going to be sick and further humiliate myself in front of these monsters. I was certain I looked green, and I startled hard when a hand brushed my knee. My eyes snapped open, and I saw Ivan staring at me, his hands curled together between his spread knees.

"Can I help?"

I damn near laughed this time. "Help me ?"

"Look, I—" he started, then stopped and looked around. Kasher traveled with an entourage of humans bigger than most Alphas, but they had taken seats as far from us as they could manage. Part of me wondered if Ivan had requested to be on my guard, or if this was some sort of punishment his father cooked up. "I know this sucks, okay?"

"You know this sucks ?" My brows rose, but I quickly schooled my face to neutral, refusing to give anything away. I desperately wanted to listen to his heart, but it was too difficult over the roar of the engine as we hurtled toward cruising altitude. He had to be lying, but something about him—about his scent, about his energy—that told me there was more to this man.

He offered me a sheepish smile. "I uh…I didn't mean this thing with my father. I meant the plane."

I took pity on him and forced myself to breathe before I answered. "I don't enjoy flying. I've only done it once, and it makes me nervous," I told him. That much wasn't a secret. "I'll be fine, though. I don't need your help."

He sat back, looking unconvinced, so I closed my eyes to avoid watching his concerned stare. I didn't want to trust any of them. I didn't want to feel safe—like I had some ally in the pack of the enemy. That was how powerful Wolves lost all control.

I knew better than to believe every human thought we were animals—that every human agreed with what the rich and powerful had done, but this man was every bit the villain we had been fighting. This man had let his brother be captured, experimented on, and now left him one of the top Most Wanted in the country.

And maybe Ivan was a victim, too, but I couldn't trust he'd use any leverage to get back into his father's good graces.

"Where are we going?" I asked once the plane started to level. The noise dimmed a little, though not enough for the humans to overhear.

Ivan bit his cheek so hard it caved in, then he let out a breath and shook his head. "I can't tell you."

Well, at least it was an honest answer. "Fine. How long until we get there?"

"Twelve hours," he said.

With the speed of a jet, I assumed it was somewhere in Europe, which would make sense. There were a few countries that had declared ultimate neutrality when it came to the war between Wolf and human. No place in the world had been unaffected when Wolves became known, but too many had refused to step in even with lip service protest at what had been done to us.

We were not going to be flying anywhere that would give me leverage, but at the very least, it might offer some means of escape.

At least three hours passed before anyone spoke again. Most of the guards were either sleeping or on their phones, and I could see Kasher's head lolled to the side and his eyes closed. He looked weak then—a frail old man who was barely hanging on, and it rekindled my belief that he was doing all of this for his own reasons.

To save himself, maybe, from human fragility and disease? Or to seek immortality?

We were hardly that, but our lifespan was more than double a human's, and to some, that would feel like forever.

I glanced at Ivan for maybe the thousandth time, and this time, he stared back. His lips worked like he wanted to say something, then he let out a breath and leaned forward, keeping his voice still low enough that only I had a hope of hearing him.

"How is Misha?"

My eyes widened, deciding to dig in my verbal claws as deep as I could. "The brother you abandoned?"

He winced, but nodded. "I…he's alive, isn't he? My father's convinced, but I…" He licked his lips, then swallowed thickly. "I worried he didn't make it after the escape."

"You worried that we killed him," I filled in for him, and I saw the guilt rising in his eyes. "You worried that we were just as vicious as you humans are so desperate to believe we are, and we punished him for the sins of your father."

Ivan sat back and turned his gaze to the window. "Can you blame me? After everything we did to you?"

At that, I did laugh—a low, quiet rumble in my chest, and he glanced at me before turning away again. "We wouldn't have killed him, though a few of our council members advocated for it," I confessed. There was no point in lying. "Some of them still think whatever your father did to him is a weapon he can use against us."

Ivan rubbed his hand down his face, then leaned forward again. "I didn't know my father had taken him to the labs."

I snorted, not quite ready to believe him, and even if I did, I wasn't sure he would have tried to stop the old man. "He was lucky to survive. I think you know that from everything you've seen your father do."

Ivan closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "I prayed every night that he was strong enough. Stronger than the others."

"He was," I confirmed. There was no point in torturing this man. "He is. He's not human anymore."

Ivan let out a small, distressed sound. "Is he like you?"

"Enough that he'd be thrown into whatever pit your people want us all to die in," I said with a shrug. "But he's also mated to our Head Alpha, which your news has been reporting."

Ivan nodded, his face a little pale, but he didn't look disgusted, which surprised me. "I wasn't sure if that rumor was true. I just…" He shook his head as he trailed off. "I doubt I'll ever see him again. We were never close. He was so much younger and so…" He stopped with a small, almost fond grin that startled me. "He was so smart and a little strange. My father hated it, but I hoped he'd grow up his own person."

"Unlike you?" I asked.

I caught the stench of humiliation from him before it faded. "I have no excuses, and I'm not going to pretend like I always knew that he was wrong. That I was wrong," he amended.

I said nothing, glancing away from him because I wasn't quite sure what he wanted from me. To throw me off, to get past my guard?

"I just…miss him," Ivan said, his voice going so low, I had to read it off his lips. "I just wanted to know he survived."

"He thrived," I told him, then closed my eyes and leaned back. I wasn't going to sleep, but at the very least, I could rest, and maybe that would get me through.

We were somewhere over the ocean when a meal was served. It was probably better than anything I might have been given on a commercial flight. Hell, it was better than what I'd been served in my little stone room, but the smell of processed food made my stomach churn.

Kasher hadn't looked twice at me since we'd gotten on the plane, and his guards had done little more than keep an eye on me. My only company remained Ivan who watched me as I attempted to eat with my hands cuffed. It was humiliating—dehumanizing, which was likely what they wanted. But I could smell a faint hint of shame coming off the man again, and I wondered if he was capable of faking it.

Some humans could. Some were experts at fooling our heightened senses, but he didn't seem like the type. I wasn't going to give him a pass for everything he'd done—spending most of his life working to decrease our rights across the globe—but something had clearly changed his mind.

I just didn't know how I could use that to my advantage. It was obvious Kasher had his sons by the throat. Ivan looked resigned, and Alexei looked like he thrived on it. It was strange to think that for all Misha had been put through, he was the lucky one out of the three.

"I need the bathroom," I said just after another bout of turbulence. I'd managed a couple bottles of water and a few bites of the food, and my discomfort was making itself known.

Ivan hesitated, then he nodded and rose. When I followed suit, two of the guards rose, and Ivan held up a hand. "I'll escort him to the bathroom." When one of the humans narrowed his eyes, Ivan rolled his own. "What? He's gonna jump out the window?"

After a beat, the man muttered something, but it was lost in the roar of the engine. He sat though, and I followed Ivan to the lavatory door that he propped open.

"I can't take those off," he said, actually sounding sorry.

I almost laughed at him, though I didn't want to be needlessly cruel. "It's fine. I've managed with worse." That was an outright lie. For all I had survived as a Wolf, I had been sheltered and pampered most of my life. My fear had come from the unknown, but my brother and sister had formed a bubble around me that allowed me privilege to follow my passion in life.

But they had also taught me how to be strong and how to be clever. And it was that which followed me into the bathroom as I shut the door, then leaned against the wall and took a breath. I could hear quiet murmurings just outside—the humans worried about what I might try, Ivan's heart a little faster than normal because he was afraid I was going to betray what little trust had formed between us.

And it was tempting. It was tempting to break free of these fucking cuffs, smash the mirror, and slit all their throats before they could pump me full of chemicals. Even if I didn't survive, taking out Kasher would have been worth my life. Zane and Talia would tear the world to pieces to bring me home, but I wasn't sure how hard any of the other Alphas would fight for me, and I was doing everything in my power not to think about Mikael right then.

With a breath, I stared at myself in the mirror for a second. The only evidence that I was in distress were the dark rings around my eyes. But my Wolf hid so much of what I was feeling. The bruising from the initial attack was gone, and I hadn't been with them and starved long enough to lose any weight.

To anyone who saw me, they'd only see a Wolf in custody.

Turning to the toilet, I struggled to get my pants down, but eventually relieved myself and even got them zipped up and my hands washed. It was frustrating being bound, but I wasn't going to give them any more reason to hurt me. I needed to be cognizant in order to be able to think.

I wouldn't stay forever. I would take the first escape attempt that presented itself, but I wouldn't be successful if they were pumping any of their shit into my veins.

I could feel the energy ramping up beyond the door, and I knew I'd been in here too long for comfort. Before Ivan could say anything—or one of the asshole guards could break down the door—I opened it and stepped out. Ivan let out a breath of relief and shot a look over his shoulder at the man a few feet behind him, then he followed me back to the seats.

"Were you considering ripping off the toilet and jumping to freedom?" he asked.

I couldn't help my small laugh, which turned into a yelp as the plane dipped suddenly. When I realized we were going into a descent, I squeezed my hands together and breathed deep. "We can survive a lot, but in spite of what you people believe we can do, we're not indestructible."

"I never thought that," Ivan said quietly, and I had a feeling he was talking about recent events.

My frustration rose, and I gave him a hard look. "I appreciate the fact that you've been…" I stopped because it wasn't kind, but it was something like that. "You've made this journey a lot less unpleasant than it might have been," I went on. "But we are not allies, and whatever you want forgiveness for, I won't be the one to give it to you."

"No," he breathed out, then glanced over his shoulder again, this time at his father who was just sitting up and sipping on a glass of what smelled like scotch. "I'm not seeking absolution."

I wanted to ask what it was he wanted from me—or from any of us. There was every chance he'd help me get away when the time was right, but there was also every chance that his own self-preservation would take control. I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk relying on anyone but myself.

Leaning back, I closed my eyes as the plane continued to drop, and though it felt like an eternity, eventually the wheels touched down, and we came to a crawling stop. The nervous energy crackled as the guards rose and walked toward me, and I didn't fight them as I had one on each arm, escorting me down the stairs.

Another van waited, another hard floor beneath my body as I was thrown inside, and the door slammed. I could hear another car start, and I recognized the beat of Ivan's heart as he stood somewhere near me. It was nice to be alone, though; it was nice to feel like a proper prisoner. I didn't want to get comfortable or complacent.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the dark ceiling, and I wondered where the hell we were going as the van took off.

It was bumpy and a little painful, probably what they wanted for me, and I felt us take more twists and turns than on any road back home.