Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

IVY

I force myself to take deep breaths, fighting the urge to panic as I sit on the cold metal examination table. My entire body aches from a night spent tossing and turning on the thin mattress in my cell, and I didn't sleep for more than a minute or two here and there. The sterile white walls of the room seem to close in on me, a stark reminder of my captivity.

But I need to stay calm. I need to keep my wits about me if I'm going to find a way out of this place.

The door opens and a group of doctors and scientists file in, their white coats pristine and their faces masks of professional curiosity. They're all women this time, and they all look vaguely alike. All the same type of beautiful. High cheekbones, sharp angles, full lips, arched eyebrows.

Actually, just about everyone here is beautiful, but in an uncanny way. Like they've all been to the same plastic surgeon. But I can feel their eyes on me, studying me as if I'm the one who's strange. As if I'm some rare specimen.

And as an omega, I guess I am.

"Good morning, omega," one of the doctors says, her voice falsely cheerful. "How are you feeling today?"

I resist the urge to growl at her. Instead, I plaster on a neutral expression. "Fine," I reply, my voice flat.

The doctor nods, making a note on her tablet. "Excellent. We're going to run a few more tests today, if that's alright with you."

It's not a question, not really. We both know I don't have a choice in the matter. But I appreciate the pretense of civility, I guess. It's more than I ever got at the Refinement Center.

"Whatever you need," I say, forcing a smile that doesn't reach my eyes.

The scientists buzz around me like bees, their movements precise and practiced. A tall, blonde woman with sharp features approaches with a needle. "I'm going to take a blood sample now," she says, her tone clinical. "You may feel a slight pinch."

I grit my teeth as the needle slides into my vein. It's more than a slight pinch, but I've endured far worse. I watch as my blood fills the vial, wondering what secrets they hope to glean from it.

"When was your last heat cycle?" a younger scientist asks, her pen poised over a clipboard.

I consider lying, but decide against it. They probably have ways to verify this information. "I don't remember exactly when," I mutter, keeping it vague.

She scribbles something down, her eyes lighting up with interest. "And do you remember how long it lasted?"

"A few days," I say, not wanting to give them too much detail about my time with the Ghosts.

Another scientist, an older woman with graying hair, steps forward with a stethoscope. "Deep breath, please," she instructs, pressing the cold metal to my chest. I comply, trying to ignore the discomfort of her invasion into my personal space.

"Your heart rate is elevated," she notes, frowning slightly. "Are you feeling anxious?"

I almost laugh at the absurdity of the question. " Wouldn't you be?" I retort, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

The scientist merely hums in response, making another note on her tablet.

Despite the clinical nature of their examinations, I can't help but notice that the staff here treats me with a measure of... kindness isn't quite the right word. Respect, maybe? It's unsettling, especially compared to the brutal treatment I endured in the Refinement Center. I find myself constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In a sense, it's worse.

When there's a lapse in the tests, one of the younger scientists leans in close, her eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "I've never seen an omega up close before," she whispers. "Is it true that you burned off your own mark?"

I tense, my hand instinctively moving to cover the scarred skin on my shoulder. "Yes," I say curtly, not wanting to elaborate.

The scientist's eyes widen even further. "Incredible," she breathes. "Didn't it hurt?"

I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Of course it hurt."

The girl flinches back, looking chastened. Good. I'm not here to satisfy her morbid curiosity .

As the day wears on, I start to piece together a mental map of the facility. The scientists, in their eagerness to study me, let slip more details than they probably should. I learn we're in a research complex not that deep in Vrissian territory. The facility is massive, with multiple levels dedicated to various experiments and "asset containment."

That last bit makes my skin crawl. I wonder if Wraith and Valek are somewhere in this labyrinth of sterile corridors and locked doors. Are they even alive? The thought sends a chill through me.

"Omega," one of the doctors says, her voice gentle. I still haven't given them a name. They don't seem to have figured out who I am yet. Or if they have, they haven't told me. "We'd like to run some more specialized tests now."

I tense, my guard immediately up. "What kind of tests?"

The doctor exchanges a glance with her colleagues. "Nothing invasive, I assure you. We're just interested in studying your unique physiology."

My heart races. What are they really after? "Why?" I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Your genetic diversity is quite remarkable," another scientist chimes in, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I get the feeling that's scientist code for not being quite as inbred as the other omegas their breeding programs select for. Just like the one my mother escaped from in Reinmich. "We believe you could be the key to some groundbreaking research."

Alarm bells go off in my head.

I don't like the sound of that at all.

The scientists exchange glances, their excitement dimming slightly. "We understand your hesitation," the first doctor says soothingly. "But I assure you, it's all perfectly safe. And who knows? The results could benefit omegas everywhere."

I almost laugh at the transparency of it all. They're desperate, that much is clear. But why? What do they really want from me?

"What's in it for me?" I ask flatly.

One clears her throat. "Well, do you have any special requests? I'm sure you don't like being across the hall from that… that monster, do you? Having to look at it all night must not have been pleasant. It's no wonder you didn't sleep well."

Are they serious? They think he's the problem?

"I'll comply," I say, my voice low and steady. I don't even know why they're putting up a pretense of caring about my compliance, when they could just force me like everyone else. The only possibility that occurs to me is somehow more disturbing than the other doctors' callousness.

They care.

They are scientists, after all. At least some of them doctors. They probably went into this convinced they were doing this to help people. "But I want something in return."

The scientists lean in, their eyes gleaming with barely concealed excitement. I've got them now.

"Let me go," I say, watching their faces fall. Better to start with a big ask so they'll be more likely to honor the second. "Or, if that's too much to ask, just tell me about the other two who came in with me. Are they alive?"

Silence falls over the room. The scientists exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my expression neutral.

"We can't divulge information about other assets," the lead scientist says finally, her voice clipped.

I bristle at the word. "They're people," I snarl. "Not property."

"I'm afraid that's all we can say on the matter," another scientist adds, her tone apologetic but firm. "Now, will you comply? Or will you fight us?"

There it is.

"Fuck your rapport," I snap. "And fuck you."

The doctor's lips thin, but she maintains her composure. "I understand you're frightened and confused. But I assure you, we mean you no harm. Omegas are very special, you know."

I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Yeah, I've heard that before. Funny how being 'special' always seems to involve being locked up and fucked with."

She has the decency to look uncomfortable at that. "I know this must be difficult for you. But please try to understand… the work we're doing here could change the world. For the better."

"For who?" I demand. "For omegas? Or for the alphas and every beta that licks their boots?"

They stare at each other for a moment, then nod and move all at once, surrounding me.

Something inside me snaps. In an instant, I'm on my feet, hands curling into fists, nails biting into my palms. "You can't keep us here like this!" I shout. "We're not your lab rats!"

The scientists back away, eyes wide with alarm. One reaches for an intercom on the wall, but I'm faster. I lunge forward, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. She cries out in pain and I use her as a shield, backing toward the door .

"Let me out," I growl, tightening my grip on the scientist's arm. "Or I'll?—"

I don't get to finish my threat. The door bursts open and a team of security guards floods the room. They're on me in seconds, wrestling me away from the scientist. I thrash and kick, managing to land a solid punch on one guard's jaw before they overpower me.

"Get off me!" I scream, biting at any flesh I can reach. It just so happens to be the guard's fingers. My lucky day. I clamp my jaws down in an almost instinctive response to them being stuffed in my mouth and keep biting down until I feel the familiar, satisfying crunch, followed by a spray of blood down my throat that makes me choke.

Worth it.

I spit out the dismembered fingers and relish the guard's anguished screams for a brief moment before the consequences set in.

Fuckers can't say I didn't warn them.

They force me down onto the examination table, pinning my arms and legs. I buck and twist, but it's no use. There are too many of them, and they're too strong.

"Sedate her!" someone shouts over the chaos .

"No!" I snarl, redoubling my efforts to break free. "Don't you dare!"

A needle pricks my arm, and almost immediately, my limbs grow heavy. The world starts to blur around the edges, but I fight against the encroaching darkness with every ounce of strength I have left.

"Fuck... you..." I slur, my eyes struggling to focus on the faces above me.

The world swims in and out of focus, a kaleidoscope of blurry shapes and muffled sounds. My limbs feel like lead, heavy and unresponsive. I try to move, to fight against the fog clouding my mind, but it's useless. My body won't obey.

Voices filter through the haze, distorted and distant. I strain to make sense of them, to piece together what's happening.

But the words slip away like smoke, impossible to grasp. I want to scream, to demand answers, but my tongue lies thick and useless in my mouth. Panic claws at my chest, but even that feels muted, dulled by whatever drug they pumped into my system.

Time loses all meaning. I drift in and out of consciousness, caught in a limbo between waking and dreaming. Fragments of memory flash behind my closed eyelids. The forest where I grew up, my mother's face, the day the soldiers came.

A cool hand touches my forehead, and I flinch away instinctively. Or at least, I try to. My body barely twitches.

I force my eyes open, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights. The world slowly comes into focus, revealing the sterile white ceiling of what I assume is still the examination room. I turn my head, ignoring the wave of nausea the movement brings, and see a cluster of doctors huddled around a bank of monitors. They glance up at me warily.

I might not be able to talk, but I can still raise my middle finger.

One doctor raises her eyebrows in shock and offense and opens her mouth to respond, but another scientist calls her over. I strain to hear their hushed conversation, but my ears are ringing too much to make anything out other than "feral" and "tests" and "asset."

I close my eyes, fighting back tears of frustration. The sedative must still be in my system, because despite my anger and fear, I feel myself drifting off again. I fight it, clinging to consciousness with everything I have.

But the darkness swallows me whole.