Chapter 26

Chapter

Twenty-Six

VALEK

T he needle slides out of my arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I grit my teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. The scientists mutter to each other in rapid-fire Vrissian, their words a jumble of medical jargon and excited exclamations.

"Remarkable," one of them says, leaning in close. His breath reeks of coffee and cigarettes. "The subject's pain tolerance has increased exponentially since the last trial."

I want to spit in his face, to feel his nose crunch under my fist. But my muscles won't obey. Whatever they've pumped into me has left me more or less paralyzed, a prisoner in my own body .

"Initiating phase two," another scientist announces.

The searing agony of another thick needle, this one straight into my jugular vein, barely registers. Pain is an old friend, one I've danced with for years.

But this... this is different.

The drugs coursing through my veins feel like liquid fire, burning away the last vestiges of humanity I cling to. I want to scream, to tear myself free from these restraints and paint the walls with the blood of these fucking bastards.

But my body won't obey.

I'm trapped, a prisoner in my own flesh and bone.

"Fascinating," one of the scientists mutters, his accent thick. "The cellular regeneration rate has increased as well."

I turn my head, fighting against the paralysis. My eyes lock onto the scientist's face. He flinches, taking a step back.

Good. He should be afraid.

They all should.

"Now, now, 9633," another lab coat says, patting my arm like I'm some docile pet. "Just relax. This will all be over soon."

Liar. It's never over. Not for me. Not since they first strapped me to a table like this one, back in Vytoskyk. I was just a boy then, screaming for my mother as they cut me open and stitched me back together.

Now, I'm their monster.

Their perfect killing machine.

But something's changed. As the drugs pull me under, dragging me into a haze of half-formed memories and fever dreams, I don't see the usual parade of violence and gore.

Instead, I see her.

Ivy.

Her wild auburn hair, those fierce eyes that burn with defiance the very color of the sea. The curve of her lips, the softness of her skin. Her summery honeysuckle scent. The way she looks at me like a rabbit caught in a wolf's jaws. For a moment, that's how I envision us in the flesh. She's a rabbit, a doe, a wildcat, everything wild and fierce and beautiful.

And now she's here because of me.

Here, trapped in this hellhole.

The drugs drag me deeper, but I fight against the undertow. I need to stay lucid. Need to remember why I'm here.

Why she's here.

A chuckle bubbles up from my throat, tasting of copper and regret. Ivy. My little wildcat. She must despise me now. How could she not? She's been dragged here into this pit of vipers and lab coats, and it's my fucking fault.

I gave her a gift.

The chance to burn it all down.

To remake the world. To be truly free.

And she chose captivity.

If I'd thought she would choose that, I wouldn't have given her the choice to begin with. It wasn't supposed to be a choice at all. Offer a feral omega a red pill and a blue pill and she goes for the balls.

I don't fuck up much.

But when I do, I really fuck up.

My muscles spasm, fighting against the restraints. One of the scientists jumps back, eyes flashing with fear behind safety goggles that make him look like a fucking dumbass.

Smart man.

He's seen what happens when I break loose.

"Increase the dosage," someone barks. "We can't risk another incident."

I snort a laugh. What an understatement. What he really means is they can't risk another top-level scientist gone because I twisted him up like a pretzel and choked him to death with his own legs .

Another needle. More fire in my veins. But it doesn't matter. Nothing they do to me matters anymore. I've endured far worse than this.

I am far worse than this.

A scalpel bites into my flesh and my back arches off the table as a scream tears from my throat, raw and primal. But even with the pain ripping through me, my mind clings to the image of Ivy.

Her scent.

Her warmth.

The way she fits perfectly against me.

"Tell us about the Ghosts," one of the scientists demands. "What are Reinmich's defenses?"

I ignore them, lost in my own little world. And then I see her, looming over me, scalpel in hand. Her fierce gaze locks onto mine as she cuts into me, slow and deliberate.

I know it's a hallucination.

I don't fucking care.

"That's it, little omega," I growl, grinning up at her. "Cut me more. Make it count."

One of the other scientists looms over me, her eyes widening behind those stupid goggles they all like so much. Where are my fucking safety goggles?

"He's hallucinating," she says, voice tight with fear. "Increase the dosage again. He's stronger when he gets like this."

Another needle slides into my arm. This time, ice races through my veins, but it does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside me. If anything, it only fuels it, stoking the flames higher. I laugh again, the sound raw and feral.

"You think this hurts?" I spit more blood onto the scientist's coat. "I've had worse paper cuts, you fucking amateur."

She stares at me in disgust. "You're a monster."

"Yes. The monster you created," I reply with a sardonic grin. "Remember that when I tear you apart."

The hallucination of Ivy flickers, then solidifies. She's straddling me now, scalpel glinting in her hand. Her wild auburn hair falls around her face like a curtain of fire, and those fierce aquamarine eyes bore into mine.

"That's it, little omega," I growl, grinning up at her. "Show me what you've got."

She leans in close, her summery honeysuckle scent overwhelming me. The scalpel traces a line down my chest, parting flesh with surgical precision. I arch into it, relishing the bite of the blade.

"Fuck," I hiss through clenched teeth. " More . "

The scientists are talking, their voices a distant buzz. I don't give a shit what they're saying. All that matters is Ivy, perched atop me like some vengeful goddess carving into a sacrifice.

She cuts into me again, and this time, I can't hold back the moan that escapes my lips. My cock strains against the confines of my pants, rock-hard and aching. Wish they'd given me something more flattering than gray sweatpants.

"Subject is exhibiting signs of sexual arousal," one of the lab coats notes, his voice clinical and detached. "Fascinating. The pain seems to be acting as a stimulant."

I want to tell him to go fuck himself if he likes it so much, but Ivy chooses that moment to dig the scalpel in deeper. My back arches off the table again, a strangled cry tearing from my throat.

"Yes," I pant, locking eyes with her. " Yes . Make it hurt. Make me feel it."

She smiles, baring her pointed canines, eyes glinting with a greener light than usual. Like a fox in human form. The scalpel dances across my skin, leaving trails of fire in its wake. Each cut, each drop of blood spilled, only makes me harder. I strain against the restraints, desperate to touch her, to feel her skin against mine .

"More," I demand, voice rough with need. "Fucking cut me open, Ivy. Make me bleed for you."

She leans in close, her breath hot against my ear. "You deserve this," she whispers, her voice a mix of honey and venom. "For what you've done to me. For trapping me here."

The scalpel bites into my flesh again, and I cry out, equal parts pain and ecstasy. My hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking release.

"Yes," I hiss. "I deserve it all. Every fucking cut. Every drop of blood. It's yours, Ivy. Take it."

The scientists are in a frenzy now, scribbling notes and adjusting dials on their machines. I barely register their presence. All that matters is Ivy, her weight on top of me, the scalpel in her hand.

She traces the blade along my jawline, just hard enough to draw blood without slicing through anything vital. Even now, she shows me mercy. Mercy I do not deserve. "You're a monster," she says, her voice low and dangerous. "A killer. A psychopath."

I laugh, the sound harsh and guttural. "You're right, little omega. I am a monster. Your monster."

Good thing she loves them so much.

The scalpel plunges into my shoulder, and I scream, the sound echoing off the sterile walls of the lab. My cock throbs, precome soaking the front of my pants.

" Fuck ," I groan, eyes rolling back in my head. "Don't stop, Ivy. Don't you fucking dare stop."

She leans in, her lips brushing against mine. For a moment, I think she's going to kiss me. Instead, she bites down hard, drawing blood.

The pain is exquisite, a symphony of agony and ecstasy. I moan into her mouth, tasting copper and honeysuckle, the most delicious blend. Only her pussy could ever be more delicious.

"Show me," I pant when she pulls away. "Show me how much you hate me. How much you want me dead."

Ivy's eyes flash with something dark and dangerous. The scalpel traces a path down my chest, skipping over my abdomen, over my pants. She tugs them down, freeing my aching cock. I thrash, a strangled cry tearing from my throat as the blade caresses the length of my cock, so sharp, so delicious, the pointed tip clinking against my piercings.

"Fuck yes," I hiss through clenched teeth. "More. Engrave your fucking name on it."

She obliges, carving intricate, delicate patterns into my most vital organ. Each cut is a work of art, a testament to her rage and my depravity. Blood flows freely, staining the white sheets beneath me crimson. I don't dare buck my hips, afraid to ruin her work.

"Please," I beg, the word foreign on my tongue. "Ivy, please. I need?—"

She silences me with another bite, this time to my throat, the scalpel swerving off its path and glancing off my inner thigh. Her teeth sink in deep and I feel my pulse thundering against her lips and tongue.

"Shut up," she growls, pulling back to meet my gaze. "You don't get to beg. Not after what you've done."

I nod, unable to form words.

She's right.

I don't deserve mercy.

Don't deserve release.

All I deserve is this exquisite torment.

Ivy's hand wraps around my cock, slick with blood. The pain is fucking incredible, each stroke sending jolts of agony through my body. I grit my teeth, fighting against the restraints as she works me over.

"Good girl," I growl, voice raw and ragged.

"You like this, don't you?" Ivy hisses, her grip tightening. "You sick fuck. "

I laugh, the sound harsh and guttural. "You have no idea."

Her hand moves faster, the blood providing a slick, hot glide. The pain is exquisite, a symphony of agony that threatens to tear me apart. I've never felt so alive, so fucking present in my own skin.

"Look at you," Ivy sneers, her aquamarine eyes flashing with disgust and hunger. "The big, bad wolf everyone fears, reduced to this pathetic, writhing mess."

I bare my teeth in a feral grin. "Only for you, little omega. Only for you."

She twists her wrist, and I cry out, the sound echoing off the sterile walls of the lab. The scientists are still here, I know, but they might as well be on another fucking planet as they mutter distantly, bitching and moaning about how they've broken me and I'll probably be useless to them now.

But they're wrong.

I'm not broken.

I'm made.

All that exists is Ivy, her hand on my cock, the scalpel glinting in the harsh fluorescent light as she writes her name all over me.

The orgasm hits me like a fucking freight train, tearing through my body with brutal intensity. I can only scream as my cock pulses in Ivy's grip. Come mixes with blood, coating her hand and my stomach in a sticky crimson mess.

Ivy doesn't stop, her hand still moving, milking every last drop from me. The overstimulation is agony and I thrash against the restraints, torn between begging her to stop and pleading for more.

"That's it," she hisses, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Give me everything."

And I do. I give her every fucking thing I have, every ounce of pain and pleasure, every scream and whimper and moan and growl and hiss. My vision blurs, black spots dancing at the edges, but I fight to keep my eyes open. I need to see her, need to burn this image into my brain.

Ivy, wild and fierce, covered in my blood and come. Her auburn hair a tangled mess, her aquamarine eyes blazing with triumph and disgust.

So beautiful.

My goddess.

My devil.