7. Belle

Chapter seven

Belle

O nce again, I'm running up a hill with my brother.

We race to the peak so we can spy that distant gray line beyond the city. The place where our mother tells us to never go.

As always, I run a little bit faster, but I know that my brother lags on purpose.

He wants me to win after all.

"Belle… wait up!" he huffs and puffs, but I giggle, speeding up on my much smaller legs.

The peak rises before us, and soon we crest the hill, gazing at the great horizon beyond.

It's so beautiful…

The whole, wide world.

I turn toward my brother, meeting those eyes so like mine.

He returns a dimpled smile.

Wait… Something about him is different.

My brother. He is older.

And, so am I.

We're no longer children.

Finally, he turns to face me fully, gripping my shoulders with fervent hands, and now there's nothing but pure determination swimming inside those round, ocean-blue eyes.

"Belle… I am going to find you…"

My lip shakes as I don't quite understand.

The dream never played out like this before…

His eyes are as turbulent as thunderstorms, and I lose myself in those ocean waves, tears dripping down my cheeks.

It's like he is standing right beside me again.

It doesn't make sense. Why is he an adult?

I haven't seen his face since I was a child, and even then, my memories of him have always been blurry at best.

But now he seems almost real. Like a recent memory.

Yet, I haven't seen this boy—no, man , in fifteen years.

Unless this is someone else's memory…

He starts backing away down the hill. "'I'm closer than you think, Belle. We'll be together again. You'll see."

I go after him. "No! Don't go!"

"Not long to go now. Just be patient, and it will be like old times again…"

He vanishes with a gust of wind, and now I'm all alone on the hilltop.

I wake abruptly by a slamming door, and the dream and the illusion vanishes, replaced by heat, exhaustion, and steam.

I'm still in the hot room.

And I'm still a prisoner.

But my brother's words still echo to me. "I am going to find you…"

He didn't feel like a dream that time.

Once again, the guards haul me away for an interrogation. They blindfold and handcuff me to the metal post, leaving me at the mercy of that faceless voice.

The speaker crackles and it booms through the room, jostling my nerves.

"Hello again, Twenty-three…"

I don't speak. I keep my chin high as a show of bravery.

They cannot break me.

I have decided to tell them some half-truths. I will let them know about Francis and what he did to me.

After all, he is the reason I am here.

I owe that Beta nothing.

He never cared about me.

"You know how this goes, don't you, Twenty-three?"

I do, but I don't bother telling him that.

"Now, your name. Please."

I inhale shakily, saying with more conviction. "I told you. Twenty-three…"

He takes a moment to respond, but it seems he's satisfied enough with my answer.

"And where did you come from?" he asks next, and I take another deep breath.

This is it.

The moment I tell them my history.

I will just leave out details about the pack.

Only half-truths after all.

Finally, I say, "They… called it the… Facility…"

No sound comes from the speaker for a while, and my heart pounds faster, drowning out all other noise.

"Anything else to share?"

I bend my head forward, digging deep into my memories of that awful place.

It's surprising how much of it I have repressed.

"They… kept me in a block of cells… with other girls."

I'm careful to avoid the word Omega.

I have to pretend like I haven't learned anything about this world.

I should be as ignorant as the day I escaped Francis's gilded cage.

"That so?"

"Yes."

"And did these 'other girls' bear a tattoo on their wrists too?"

"They did."

Another quiet spell befalls the two of us.

My heart ricochets in my chest.

"Thank you, Twenty-three, for being so cooperative. Now, return her to her cell."

My shoulders sag with relief.

No more hot rooms.

I will take the cold steel walls of my cell any day.

Just as the guards unclasp my arms, I turn to the speaker. "His name was Francis."

Complete and utter silence follows after my bold confession.

No one draws a breath.

"The man who trained me… taught me how to fight and brandish a knife. His name is Francis. He's bald with wisping hair, and completely plain. Smells of paper."

The voice takes a moment. Then a satisfied hum reverberates through the room, making me shiver.

"Very good, Twenty-three. This information should serve us well."

They lead me out of the room and down some windy halls.

I can't stop the small smile that forms across my face.

It's as if a weight has lifted from my shoulders.

I did it.

I rebelled against Francis.

He won't get the best of me anymore or his little bell.

I will win in the end.

The guards finally remove my blindfold and my handcuffs, and I almost cry for joy when I see they have brought me back to my cell.

It will never be home.

But it's a far cry from that torture chamber.

This time, I even have a bed and a toilet.

And a hot meal waiting for me on a tray.

I almost inhale the soup and bread, burning my tongue in the process, but it's the first meal I have had in days.

I haven't eaten since that last supper with the pack.

Licking the bowl clean, I put it to one side and climb under the threadbare sheets.

They may be thin and itchy, but right now, they feel like silk.

It doesn't take me long to fall asleep, and as I drift off, I dream about the pack.

I feel they are closer than ever.

Just maybe, we can all beat Francis together…

I jerk awake several hours later.

The lights were still on when I fell asleep, so it's pitch dark in my cell.

It takes me a moment to adjust, but I get the prickly sensation that someone is watching me.

There's a shadowy silhouette in the corner of the cell.

My heart thumps.

I am not alone.

"W-who are you?"

I don't spy his face. It's swathed in shadow, but he never moves from his spot.

Is he one of the guards?

"What do you want?"

He doesn't respond, and I lose my nerve at last.

"Who are you?!"

My voice dies in my throat when I spy that glint of steel, and now he hovers closer, pinning me to the bed.

He places the knife at my throat, and now all I can see are the whites of his eyes.

His teeth are bared as he snarls, "Francis sends his regards, bitch."

My heart screams in my chest.

No.

"You talk too much, and we can't have that. You should have just kept your goddamn mouth shut."

Before he can slit my throat, I kick my foot out, sending him backward.

The man grunts and doubles over when I hit his family jewels, and now I stumble out of bed, crying for help.

He yanks me back by the hair, throwing me down hard on the ground, and now he grips the knife, placing it by my throat again.

"We've all come too far. You won't ruin it now!"

The door of my cell flies open next, and now the guards storm inside, dragging my midnight killer away.

"No! She has to die!"

I slump on the cold floor of my cell, shaking and gasping for air.

I almost died at the hands of an assassin.

Just because I spilled some secrets about Francis and the Facility.

"We'll be in charge one day, you'll see! You Alphas will bow to us Betas!"

Footsteps scuff along the floor beside me, and I glance up, meeting the masked face of another guard.

He starts peeling off his mask next, and now I meet a bright pair of burgundy eyes.

They flash in the garish light of the cell, and I take in that handsome, chiseled face with its strong jawline and cleft chin.

He's an Alpha.

And the way he narrows his eyes. As if he can't quite figure out where he has seen me before…

He smells of campfire and something sweet, and I'm just trying to pinpoint the second scent when he whispers, "Hello again, Twenty-three."

My heart pounds at the familiar voice.

It's him.

The person on the other side of the speaker.

He kneels to my level, peering closer into my eyes. Then his taut mouth curves into a small smile, and then he says, "Or maybe I should call you Belle?"

The hard lines of his face soften next, making me blink several times.

He knows my name.

How?

Yet for some reason, I sense that I can trust him now.

He is not here to hurt me, and it seems he has no more questions to ask.

I guess the interrogations are over now.

"You're coming with me."

He rises, helping me to my feet, and now he towers above me.

I meet his eyes, noticing how they look red at certain angles.

"Where are you taking me?"

Now I'm the one asking him questions.

The Alpha's smile widens, though only by a small fraction.

He's still pretty dour.

"To your pack. They're waiting for you."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

And then the tears fall.

Unless this is some cruel trick, it looks as if I am finally going to be free of this place, and I can't wait to leave.

I can't wait to see my guys.

I've missed them all so much.

Even the asshole.

I'm coming home, Rian…