Land of Wolves: Chapters 51-55 (Patreon)

Chapter 51

My head fucking pounds.

I drop my chin to my chest and slide my bare feet along the slippery ground. I’m sitting on some hard surface, faintly aware that my hands are tied above my head. The sharp bite of the metal digs into the skin of my wrists, and my body jerks to the left as the room around me spins. It smells in here, a bit like sweat but mostly like stale air.

There’s a slight whirring, too, but I can’t tell if the sound is being produced externally or inside my head. It feels like my skull has been split open—it probably has—but I push past the pain and force my eyes open.

My attention immediately lands on Adam, the man chained up across from me.

Is he dead? He’s slumped over, his arms the only thing keeping his body upright, and he sure as fuck doesn’t look alive.

I gulp, my throat burning, as I take in the small dark room. The walls are made of metal, steel maybe, and as my body jerks to the right, I realize we’re in the back of a vehicle. The whirring is from the outside air hitting the frame.

It looks like some sort of 18-wheeler.

That must be how HPAW got so far into the pack lands. They must have intercepted a delivery and hidden in the back.

My head lulls forward, and I wince as something drips into my eye. It hurts, and I attempt to turn and wipe the liquid off on my shoulder. I can’t reach, naturally, and I instead settle for shutting that eye so no more drips in.

It’s probably blood.

I’m sure my head is fucked up.

Adam and I are the only ones here, and I wonder if that means we were also the only ones captured. I hope so. The wolves seemed to be handling the surprise attack pretty well, even with the disadvantage of being unable to hear. If Adam and I hadn’t run for that back door, I doubt we would’ve been caught.

I’m sure HPAW was on us the minute the wall went down.

Where was Caleb when it happened? I faintly remember seeing him fighting with his wolves, his bright brown eyes locked in on me, but then Adam took off running and I lost sight of him. Did he see us getting taken?

How the fuck did HPAW even know where we were?

Adam groans, and I lazily turn my head in his direction.

The pounding in my head makes it hard to focus, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I pass out. Blood continues steadily pouring down my face, and I can tell that’s not my only injury. There’s a pain in my shoulder that’s too great to be a strain, probably a dislocation, and there’s a pulsing in my chest right where my nipple lives.

Fuck.

I hope my nipple hasn’t been cut open or torn off.

There’s a breeze on the skin of my breast, so I know my shirt is torn. I drop my head to try and see the damage, but it hurts my eyes too much to pull them that far down.

“Evelyn?”

I meet Adam’s gaze. He licks his lips and tugs at the chains pinning his wrists to the wall above his head. They don’t budge.

“I believe we’ve been captured,” I say, letting out a dry laugh.

It ends in a pitiful cough, and for a brief moment, I fear I’m going to choke. It’s already hard to breathe, and the coughing only exasperates my pain.

Adam tugs his arms again, but this attempt is met with the same success as his last.

“I can’t feel my body,” he quietly admits.

I’m not surprised. He’s only chained by his wrists, and HPAW would have locked up every inch of his body if they were concerned about him breaking free.

“I assume they’ve drugged you,” I say. “A high dosage of Xylazine is an effective, short-term way to paralyze a wolf and prevent them from shifting.”

Adam’s head hits the metal wall behind him with a loud clink.

“What’s Xylazine?”

I crack a smile. “Horse tranquilizer. It lowers your blood pressure and heart rate, and at very high doses, it causes wolves to lose feeling in their limbs. Your bodies filter through it quickly, and it takes a while to kick in, but once it does, you’ll be entirely numb for about eight hours.”

Xylazine is frequently used by HPAW scientists when they have a captured wolf they want to question. The drug allows a wolf to keep a sharp enough mind to follow and keep up with a conversation, and the muscle weakness ensures they aren’t a danger to those around them.

“How long have we been in here?” Adam asks. “I don’t remember anything after the wall exploded.”

I shrug.

“Neither do I. I only woke up a few minutes before you,” I admit.

I’m not surprised the flying metal took us both out. We were close to it, and unlike last time, there wasn’t a giant table to land on us and block from the debris.

The truck we’re in makes a sharp turn, and I cry out as my hurt shoulder pulls. Adam’s eyes flicker all over me, but they linger on my chest. Fuck.

“My nipple’s gone, isn’t it?” I ask.

He cracks a smile and shakes his head.

“Your nipple is fine, but a giant piece of metal is sticking out of your chest directly above it.”

Well, that’s not good.

“Is it going to kill me?” I ignore the way my voice cracks.

Adam’s eyebrows furrow as he peers at the skin, and after a minute, he shakes his head.

“It probably would if it got pulled out, but as long as it remains in you, I think you should be fine,” he says.

Well, that’s comforting.

Adam pulls on his wrists again, still with no success. He flexes his fingers and tries to wiggle them through the metal latched around his wrists, but that also doesn’t work. HPAW’s too smart to leave an opening for him to escape.

Besides, even if he somehow manages to free his arms, it’s not like he can do anything about it. I doubt the man can feel enough of his body to walk, let alone fight. They’d just chain him back up and inject more Xylazine into him.

I look around the van, searching for any cameras.

There aren’t any, but I suppose if they intercepted and stole these vehicles mid-route, they probably didn’t have time to install any. If I weren’t chained up and on the verge of passing out, I’d try to use that to my benefit.

Adam continues to fight with his chains, and I busy myself with trying not to bleed out and die.

My head continues to pound, and I shut my eyes and focus on my breathing in a sad, desperate attempt to keep myself from passing out.

What’s Caleb doing right now? I’m sure if he’s still alive, he’s realized by now that I’m missing. The pack is probably in chaos, and I hope not too many wolves were killed in the surprise attack. I faintly recall seeing a few wolves shot down, and I hope the wounds weren’t lethal.

Greg and Jan are going to have their hands full tonight.

I doubt Adam and I were unconscious for long, maybe five to ten minutes, and I begin counting to keep track of time. The wolves are fast, and I’m confident Caleb would’ve sent wolves to hunt down this truck and save us the moment he realized we were taken.

It’s only a matter of time before we’re rescued.

I count.

And count.

And count.

Eventually, light begins to enter the vehicle from the large seam along the far wall where I assume the back doors open up. It means morning is here. If the attack happened around 11 P.M., and the sun usually comes up around 7 A.M., that means we’ve been driving for almost eight hours.

That puts us right on the border of the wolf lands.

We’ll have to stop for gas soon, and the wolves will attack then. They’re waiting the same way Caleb waited for me when I tried to escape.

My head lolls, and Adam makes a pained noise that draws my attention. I look up, my vision blurry, and watch as he stands on shaky knees. The Xylazine must be wearing off.

His legs shake as he rises, and I’m surprised he doesn’t crumble as he turns toward his marked hand. His forearm is covered in dried blood where the metal handcuffs tore open his skin, but his attention is locked solely on his mark.

“Adam?” I ask.

He ignores my question and brings his mouth to his hand. Is he about to try and gnaw his way through the metal? I doubt he’ll be successful.

Instead, he presses his lips against his mark, kissing the white design. I cock my head to the side, confused, before recoiling in horror as he opens his mouth and bites into it.

A loud, pained whine slips from Adam’s throat as he sinks his teeth into the sensitive flesh on the back of his hand. It grows louder when he rips. Blood spews out, the man biting straight through the muscle and ligaments that live just underneath the thin skin.

What is he doing?

He tears the skin to shreds before spitting it onto the floor between us.

I heave, fighting the urge to puke as his knees give out and he collapses back onto the ground. Blood continues to pour from his hand, and I glance between it and the chunk of flesh in panic. Adam is losing it. He’s been in this truck for a couple of hours and is losing his fucking mind.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask, still unable to comprehend what the hell I just saw.

Adam rests his head against the metal wall and stares at the ceiling. It’s ridged, and his eyes dart over each ridge as he struggles to catch his breath.

“I don’t want them knowing who my mate is,” he says. “They would hurt her to get to me, and I won’t let that happen.”

My throat runs dry as I stare at his still-bleeding hand.

“Won’t it heal?” I ask.

Adam clenches his jaw and looks to the side before giving a curt shake of his head.

“Marks are meant to be treasured and protected. If it gets damaged, it remains that way,” he explains, his voice cracking. “It will never heal.”

All oxygen escapes my lungs, and I struggle to breathe as I realize what he’s just done.

“You’ll still feel the mate bond, though? Right?” My voice is laced with desperation, but I don’t think I could hide it even if I tried. I’m too exhausted, too injured, to hide my emotions. “You still have a mate, don’t you?”

Caleb said he couldn’t feel the bond once my mark went black, but that’s different than it being removed. It has to be. Adam’s waited so long for his mate, and I know how badly he wants one. Even though he annoys me to all hell most of the time, I still think he’s a good guy.

He deserves a mate.

“I don’t know.”

The words are spoken as a whisper, and the raw fucking agony in them tears me apart.

My mouth opens and shuts.

“We’ll need to be stopping for gas soon, and Caleb will rescue us then,” I assure him. “The wolves are waiting for us to stop and get gas. That’s what Caleb did when I tried to run away.”

Adam licks his lips and spits out a mouthful of blood. I don’t like the look on his face, and I clench my jaw as I watch emotions flicker across it. He doesn’t believe me, but I don’t need him to.

He’ll see I’m right when the wolves save us.

“Do you really think Alpha Caleb would wait to save you? That he’d sit around and wait for the absolute perfect opportunity to strike. You’re slowly dying in here, Ev.” Adam’s voice is unnaturally soft, but I refuse to believe what he’s saying. “He’d have torn apart this vehicle and every HPAW soldier the first moment he could.”

I turn away.

“That’s not true,” I say.

Adam doesn’t respond, and I angrily stare at the wall next to him until my head gets too heavy and I’m forced to rest it against my bicep. Adam doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Angry, I return to my counting. The pain in my head has reached a point where I can’t focus on anything besides it, but thankfully the aching pull in my shoulder and the wound in my chest haven’t seen much of a change.

They still hurt like fuck, but the pain hasn’t gotten any worse. Or maybe they have and I’m too fixated on my head to notice it.

Eventually, I feel the semi-truck slow to a stop, and I shoot Adam a sharp look as I wait for the wolves to attack. They’re taking their sweet time, and I perk up when the doors in the back are pulled open.

The bright light hurts my eyes, and I let out a quiet groan as a man jumps into the truck and approaches Adam. He’s an HPAW soldier, dressed in full tactical gear, and I glare at his back as I wait for Caleb to lunge inside and tear out his throat.

It doesn’t happen, and my chest fills with dread as he grabs a needle out of his vest pocket. Adam kicks at the man’s ankle, his arms still useless, and the man teeters with a loud hiss before jumping forward and plunging the needle into Adam’s neck.

Adam almost immediately falls limp, and I flatten my back against the wall as the soldier turns to me. He pushes his greasy blonde hair out of his face as he looks me over, and I begin to panic as he steps closer. The needle in his hand is capped and returned to his vest, and I frantically shake my head as he pulls another from a separate pocket.

“No,” I gasp, my voice rough. “Please, no.”

He steps closer and grabs my chin, his calloused fingers rough as he rips off the cap and sticks the needle into my neck. There’s a sharp pinch followed by a burn, and I hiss as it’s removed. I’m sure it’s some tranquilizer, probably a tenth of the strength of the one Adam was given, and I glare into the soldier’s dull blue eyes with as much hatred as I can muster.

Fuck him.

“We’ll be there in a few more hours,” he says, his words clipped. “Try not to die before then.”

I’d spit on him if I could find the strength to move my mouth.

My eyes flicker between him and Adam before my head lulls forward, and I listen to the man step away and jump out of the truck. There’s a quiet thump as he lands on the ground, and it’s followed by the sound of gravel crunching below boots and doors being shut.

Well, fuck.

My consciousness fades, and my nose scrunches when an engine starts and the vehicle begins to move once more.

Chapter 52

I think I’m being carried.

Voices trickle in and out, but the pulsing in my head makes it impossible to focus on what’s being said.

I’m lying flat on my back with my arms dangling limply on either side of my waist. Whatever I’ve been placed on, probably a stretcher, is hard, and a bright, fluorescent light is burning behind my eyelids. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t muster up the strength.

The light behind my eyelids ebbs and flows, and I assume it’s due to me being carried underneath bulbs.

A hand lands on my wrist, and fingers curl around it as the voices around me grow panicked. I hope it’s not because I’m dying.

Where is Adam?

Where am I?

I try to open my mouth, try to move my fingers or wiggle my toes, but my body doesn’t cooperate. It’s useless, and after a few attempts, I grow too tired and give up. I’m alive for now, and I’m pretty sure HPAW is going to do whatever possible to keep me from dying.

Even if they suspect I’m with the wolves now, they’ll still want to question me.

Light continues to move behind my eyelids, and I’m pretty sure I’m slipping in and out of consciousness. There’s a sharp pinch in my neck, the pain identical to when the HPAW soldier stuck me with the needle, and when I wake up again, I’m not in any pain.

In fact, there’s a concerning lack of pain.

I’m still groggy and unable to focus on a thought for longer than a second or two, but every inch of my body—most notably my head—is numb. It feels fucking good.

There’s an insufferable itch on the back of my hand, so I assume I’m hooked up to an IV.

The voices are gone, too, replaced with the rhythmic sound of beeping. I’ve heard it before, and I know immediately it’s a heart rate monitor. The pressure on my pointer finger confirms it, and I do my best to move my hands before exhaustion forces me limp.

I imagine I was taken straight into surgery, and if my injuries were going to kill me, I probably would’ve died on the table.

I’m going to take it as a good sign that I’m conscious and laid up in a hospital bed.

Yay for me.

My mouth tastes like copper, and I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth as rhythmic beeping pulls me back under.

The pain is still gone when I wake up again, but voices surround me once more. There are two of them, one I don’t recognize and another I do. It’s familiar, and I rack my brain for answers as it filters through my ears.

It’s been so long since I last heard it, and after a few seconds, I realize it’s Dan speaking.

My makeshift father.

He was my primary caretaker when I was brought to HPAW, the man in charge of ensuring I was kept healthy and sharp. HPAW thought it would be best for me to have a confidant, a steady parental figure in my life that I felt I could rely on.

They thought it would help ground me. Keep me from acting out and rebelling.

His rough voice is distinct from spending almost thirty years chain-spoking menthol cigarettes. It’s a nasty habit he was always incredibly vocal about hating, but he never worked up the strength to quit.

Given the bitter, chemical smell floating around in the room, I’d go on a limb and say he still hasn’t.

Unsurprising.

Despite his bad habit, though, Dan’s a pretty fit guy. He’s almost fifty, but I’m sure he could easily take down men still in their prime. He sure as fuck works out enough—every day for nearly two hours in the HPAW gym—and I’ve always suspected he’s using a muscle-enhancing drug.

Not enough to be painfully obvious, but just enough to make you wonder.

“Evelyn?”

How do they know I’m awake? Probably the fucking heart rate monitor.

“It’s Dan,” Dan says, his voice deceptively soft. “You took a few pretty hard hits, and we almost lost you for a minute there, but it looks like you’re going to be okay.”

No, shit. If I were going to die, I’d be dead already.

“We should give her time to rest,” the second voice chimes in.

It’s feminine, and I’ve never heard of it before. Thanks to my frequent injuries during my training, I’ve met all the HPAW doctors, but they have a high turnover rate. Many people struggle to compartmentalize the work HPAW asks them to do, and they typically quit after a few months.

HPAW’s legal department spends a fortune securing secrecy from employees, and I faintly remember being forced—well, heavily encouraged—to sign an NDA on my eighteenth birthday.

I slide my tongue along the back of my front teeth, the only action I can muster up the strength to do. My body feels weak and weighed down, and bone-deep exhaustion prevents me from attempting anything else.

I hope all is well with Adam. I doubt they’d let him die, but I also doubt they’d go out of their way to put him in a comfortable hospital bed.

Before I learned the truth about HPAW, I’d have thought they’d stick him in a secure, guarded room with a bed and bathroom, but now I fear they’ve chained him up in a basement with nothing more than a bucket to shit in.

The next time I wake up, a dull pain spreads through my body. It’s most prominent on my chest and head, where I assume my two worst wounds were. Thankfully it’s not unbearable, but it’s just enough to distract.

I strain to hear if anybody is in the room, but I’m met with nothing more than the rhythmic beeping of my heart monitor. It’s comforting, proof that I’m actually still alive, and I listen to it for a long minute before forcing my eyes open.

The bright, fluorescent lighting is blinding, and I blink a few times to clear my vision before looking around. As suspected, I’m in a hospital room.

It’s fairly empty, and I stare at the bland white walls before glancing at the two empty chairs next to my bed. Dan must have left, but I assume it won’t take long for a nurse to realize I’m awake and sound the alarm.

I’m sure HPAW will want to bring me in for questioning as soon as possible.

There aren’t any windows connected to my room, so I figure I’m underground. HPAW typically prefers to keep underground facilities, so it doesn’t help to narrow down which one I’m in. HPAW has three main buildings, but I assume I’m in the one furthest north.

It’s closest to the wolf borders, and it’s where I’ve spent most of my time.

I gulp and smack my lips, my mouth and throat uncomfortably dry. I’d kill for some water right about now, but I don’t want to draw any attention to myself just yet.

I need time to formulate a plan.

I should’ve done it on the journey here, but I was too injured to concentrate. All I could think about was the ache in my head, but now that that’s taken care of, I need to think. Fast.

Caleb, for whatever reason, couldn’t stop the HPAW vehicle during the multi-hour ride it would have taken to escape the wolf lands. That within itself is incredibly concerning, and I don’t have the slightest clue of why that is.

There’s always the possibility that HPAW managed to kill all the wolves at the party, but I highly doubt it.

Besides, even if Caleb was killed, an outcome I don’t want to so much as consider, responsibility would have passed to Cole, then probably Sash, and then who the fuck knows. Either way, there’s a straightforward, established hierarchy.

I was never told it, but I know it exists.

I doubt whoever’s in charge would decide to let me and Adam go. The wolves are adamant about protecting their own, and even if they didn’t want to save me, they would do whatever possible to save Adam.

The heart rate monitor spikes, and I shut my eyes and suck in a few deep breaths until it settles. I don’t know how closely the nurses are watching me, but I don’t want to give them any reason to check in on me just yet.

I will pretend to be a part of HPAW, but I need to get my story straight first.

I don’t know what Adam will say, if he says anything, and I must ensure my story matches his. It’s helpful that Caleb never told me any vital information about the wolves, so even if HPAW connects me to some polygraph, I won’t have to create any outlandish lies to protect the wolves.

I’ve been trained to lie without setting polygraphs off, but the fewer mistruths I have to give, the better.

There’s no reason to take the risk if I don’t have to.

I’m sure whoever has been giving information to HPAW filled them in on the rumors circulating about Caleb and me. Hopefully, they told HPAW how I tried to kill him and run away.

It will bode well for me.

Especially now that the wolves know who I am and my involvement with HPAW. I’m no use to HPAW, and I know they don’t care for me. I want to think HPAW wouldn’t kill me, especially if they think I remained faithful to them, but I can’t be certain.

I’m on borrowed time, and I need to find a way to get Adam and me out of here before they decide they’ve got all the information they need from me.

Fuck.

I need to know who was giving information to HPAW.

It must have been somebody close to Caleb, or at least high up in the pack. The wolves are free to come and go as they please, especially between packs, but it would’ve been noticed if one was frequently traveling to the human-owned areas.

Right?

I once assumed the wolves stayed on their lands, but now I’m unsure. Caleb and Adam mentioned that they went to a human school, meaning they must have been on human lands undetected.

If they cover their marks, they can probably blend in pretty well.

The heart rate monitor picks up again, and I wince as I hear the unmistakable click of a door opening. I peer through my eyelashes, and the monitor grows louder as a man enters my room.

He’s young, maybe in his early twenties, with a baby face and busy brown eyebrows. His blue scrubs swish as he walks, and he messes with the tablet in his hands before looking at me with a wide smile.

“Evelyn!” he greets me, approaching the foot of my bed. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

So much for pretending to be asleep.

I force my lips to curl into a smile, jumping into my role of loyal HPAW member.

“I’m Jay,” the man continues. “How are you feeling? You were brought in almost twenty-four hours ago, and I’m not going to lie, you were in pretty bad shape. We had to rush you into surgery for your head and chest, but it went well and your recovery looks promising.”

Twenty-four hours? The heart rate monitor spikes, and I mentally curse the damn thing as Jay’s eyes flash to it.

“So, I’m not going to die?” I choke out.

I know I’m not, but I need to explain my racing pulse somehow. I’m sure Jay will be questioned about my reactions upon waking up, and I can’t make any mistakes.

Jay shakes his head, his smile growing. He looks friendly, but I know better than to trust that. He’s a member of HPAW, and I know the medical staff sees more than most. They’re the ones who are tasked with keeping the wolves we capture alive, and I’m sure he’s met Adam by now.

I pray they aren’t torturing him.

“Where’s Dan?” I ask.

He’s the last person I want to see right now, but the old Evelyn would be eager to speak to him and learn what’s happening. She’d be ecstatic to finally be free from Caleb, and she’d want to know exactly how many wolves were murdered during their attack.

Most importantly, she’d want to know if they successfully brought down Caleb.

They’re all things I still want to know, but for very different reasons.

Jay looks at his tablet and taps at the screen.

“I’m reaching out now to let him know you’re awake. He’s been worried about you,” he says.

I doubt it. Dan is arguably the most pessimistic, skeptical person I’ve ever met. He, without a doubt, thinks I’ve flipped, and convincing him otherwise will be a nightmare. He’ll probably try to hide his doubts to lull me into a false sense of security, but I won’t let it happen.

Jay sets his tablet on a small tray near my feet, and I let my eyes slip shut as he looks at the bandages on my head, his movements gentle and cautious.

“Are you in any pain?” he asks.

I shrug. “A bit.”

He hums and checks the bags hanging on a thin pole to my right. The back of my hand still itches, and I glance at it with a frown. My mark is still there, and I force myself not to smile as I take in the deep red color. It’s still significantly darker than when I was sent to the wolves, but it’s no longer black.

Watching it lighten is like watching grass grow, slow and impossible to spot, but it’s definitely happening.

Covering the mark is a giant piece of tape holding an IV needle in my skin, and I wince as I wiggle my fingers and watch it move.

Jay pulls the cheap blanket covering my body to my waist before unbuttoning my gown at the shoulder and pulling it below my chest. There’s a giant bandage covering the entire right half of my breast.

It still looks fresh, and Jay carefully peels it back and checks the black stitches holding together a nasty-looking cut. It spans almost the entire length of my breast, and I’m so relieved that my nipple looks fine.

Despite what Adam said, a small part of me was convinced it was gone.

Jay applies a new bandage before re-buttoning my gown and pulling my blanket back up. He doesn’t speak, which I’m grateful for, and I watch his every move through narrowed eyes.

I want to know exactly what’s happening to me.

“Everything looks good,” he confirms.

There’s a knock on the door, and I turn just in time to see Dan push it open and step inside the room. His eyes are on me, his stare unnervingly intense.

He’s wearing a typical black HPAW facility uniform, and I just know the cheap cotton is uncomfortable. I wore it every day for years and years, and I assume I’ll be forced to wear it again once I’m out of the medical wing.

“Evelyn,” Dan says, running his hand over the top of his head.

He’s never had any hair, but he always touches his head as if he does. Teasing him about his bald head used to be one of my favorite pastimes, but I don’t say a word.

“It’s good to see you, Dan.” I force myself to sound relieved, which is hard to do when you’re pumped full of medicine and still recovering from the brink of death.

I lick my lips, struggling to think of what to say. What would the old Evelyn say?

Gulping, I force my lips into a cruel smirk. “Well, tell me everything.”

Chapter 53

Dan settles into the chair beside my bed, his sharp gaze cutting toward Jay. My nurse is perceptive, and with a slight dip of his chin, he grabs his tablet off the small tray by my feet and makes his way to the door.

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on you,” he says, pushing it open and stepping into the hallway.

I nod, even though he’s not looking. “Sounds good.”

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and I peer through the small glass window separating the room and the hallway until he disappears. Dan clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, an action he’s always done when annoyed by something.

I can only imagine what it is right now, and I debate slipping off the heart rate monitor connected to my finger before deciding against it. Dan would probably notice, or the machine would go haywire, and neither would look good for me.

Instead, I pray the damn thing doesn’t make a fool of me as I shift my attention toward Dan.

He’s made himself comfortable in his chair and leans back in it with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps bulge, the muscles constricted by the tight band of his shirt sleeve. He really should size up, but I suspect he likes wearing his shirts this way.

They probably make him feel strong.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” I say, breaking the silence. “I was beginning to think I’d never be able to escape the wolf lands.”

He raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

I avert my gaze, hoping the action comes across as a guilty one. Dan has taught me everything I know, and I will need to put on the performance of a lifetime if I intend to fool him. He’s perceptive, maybe even more so than Caleb, and he’s spent years watching my every move.

“Caleb was figuring me out, so I tried to slit his throat and return to our meeting point a few months ago,” I admit. “I was caught when I stopped for gas, and I was forced to return to the pack lands. The wolves were keeping a close eye on me, and I didn’t think I’d ever get another opportunity to escape.”

It’s not a lie.

Dan remains silent, and I know he’s hoping the tense quiet between us makes me uncomfortable enough that I continue speaking to fill the silence. It’s a common tactic to get somebody to talk, but I won’t fall victim to it.

Seconds pass, and I tap my finger against the bed while waiting for Dan to speak.

It’s what the old Evelyn would’ve done. She’d be eager to get all the details and know what happened, but she’d be patient with them. Her interest would be piqued, but she wouldn’t be as consumed as I am now.

It’s all I can think about.

What happened to Caleb? What are they doing with Adam? Who is their informant?

I doubt Dan will be giving me answers today, or at all. Assuming I get released back into the facility once I’m cleared to leave the medical wing, this is all information I’ll likely have to get from the guards and gossiping HPAW employees.

Most of what I hear will likely be embellished, but it’s better than nothing.

“I assume your mission was successful,” I eventually say.

Dan nods, his eyes trailing to my head. I’d pay good money to know what’s going through his head right now. He’s so hard to read, and my injured state makes me even less perceptive than usual.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, changing the subject.

I wish I knew the extent of my injuries, and I make a mental note to ask my nurse when he returns.

“I’m a bit sore, but otherwise, I feel good.” I relax into the hospital bed, letting my weight rest entirely on the hard mattress.

I didn’t realize how badly I was straining to sit up before, and I feel relief the moment I let my muscles rest. I’m still painfully weak, my body not yet recovered from surgery.

It’s not the first time I’ve been injured, but this is arguably the worst it’s ever been. Thanks to my extensive training before being sent on my mission, I’m familiar with broken ribs, hairline fractures, and nasty bruises. Still, HPAW was careful about keeping me alive and relatively healthy, and they never let me get to this level of damage.

“We were beginning to grow worried you’d flipped on us,” Dan says.

I shut my eyes, too exhausted to keep them open, and breathe in slowly through my nose. Anxiety tugs at the edges of my mind, encouraging me to panic, but I focus on the sound of the air conditioning blowing through the vents and the rhythmic tapping of my finger against the bed to keep calm.

I’m thankful when my heart rate monitor doesn’t spike.

“Why would you think that?” I ask.

I furrow my eyebrows and crack open my right eye to peer at Dan, hoping to look curious. I don’t want to come across as defensive, and I want him to think I’m genuinely curious as to why HPAW suspects I’ve flipped.

The corners of Dan’s lips twitch upward, and I wish I knew what that meant.

Is he amused by my attempts to lie, or is he pleased by my behavior? I’m hoping it’s the latter, but you can never be too sure with Dan.

“Because you’ve succeeded in lightening your mark,” he says, his eyes darting toward my hand.

Fuck.

The heart rate monitor spikes, and the beeping feels deafening as Dan uncrosses his arms from his chest and drops his elbows to his thighs. He leans forward, his eyes still on my mark.

“Leadership is giving you today to recover, and they intend to speak with you tomorrow morning,” he continues. “Access to this room has been limited for obvious reasons, and I had to fight hard to receive clearance for this conversation.”

Why is he telling me this?

“I will be present, and I won’t be speaking on your behalf, Evelyn. Your fate is up to them, and I won’t put my reputation on the line for you,” he says.

Is this a threat? It sure feels like one, but threats have never been Dan’s thing.

I work my jaw side to side, and after a moment’s hesitation, I choose not to respond. He’s looking to catch me in a trap, and I won’t let myself fall victim to it.

Dan clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine before lowering to my hand again. I flip my wrist, hiding my mark from his view, and he blinks slowly before pushing off his knees and rising to his feet.

“I have a meeting to get to, but I’m glad to have you back.” Dan turns and leaves without another word, and the damn heart rate monitor continues to give away fear.

I hate that fucking monitor.

It doesn’t settle even when he leaves the room, and I wait a few seconds to ensure he isn’t coming back before flipping my wrist back over and looking at my mark. I should’ve known it would give me away.

Whoever is working with HPAW undoubtedly told them about it, and it’ll be impossible to lie and claim I’m still with them when the damned thing directly contradicts me. It’s a built-in lie detector, one I can’t fool.

Double fuck.

I glance at the empty seat where Dan sat, trying to figure out my next move, when a shiny object on the bedside table to my right captures my attention. The reflection in the room bounces off a set of keys, and I feel my heart in my throat as I eye the switchblade and phone sitting next to it.

These must be Dan’s, but I don’t remember him setting them down.

Maybe he did it while I was watching the nurse leave.

I can’t believe he left them behind. Dan is thorough, and despite what his age may suggest, he’s as sharp as a tack. His leaving them here isn’t an accident.

What am I supposed to make of this?

His phone has a password I don’t know, and I have no use for his keys considering I can barely sit up, let alone escape. It’s the switchblade.

My gaze shifts to my mark, and the damned heart rate monitor grows loud as I realize what I need to do. The monitor sounds like a galloping horse, and I’m glad Dan didn’t stick around to witness my internal meltdown.

His visit was a test, and I have the feeling I failed.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I eye the switchblade. It’s slim and black, and my hand shakes as I reach for it.

I have to do this.

Tears blur my vision, and I brush them away with the back of my unmarked hand before flicking open the blade. I feel the point, pressing it with my thumb until a small bead of blood pebbles to the surface of my skin.

It’s sharp.

I glance at the door to the room, ensuring nobody is looking through the window, before bringing the blade to my mark. I grimace as I press down, and the heart rate monitor ratchets to an unbelievable speed as I cleanly slice my mark off my hand.

My pain medication prevents the sting from being unbearable, but the emotional pain of removing my mark is more than I ever imagined.

It takes a few scrapes to completely remove it, cutting my skin so deeply that it will never heal like normal. I hope this doesn’t remove the bond altogether, and I drop the switchblade onto my lap as blood pours down the sides of my hand and soaks into the blanket below.

It needed to be done.

The beeping in the room is unbearable, and I rip the sensor off my pointer finger before also yanking the sticky patches off my chest. It has the opposite effect I’m going for, and two nurses are sprinting into my room a moment later.

Jay rushes to my bedside while a shorter woman with bright blue hair makes her way to the loud machine. She’s new, too, and I watch as she tucks her hair behind her ear and scans the screen. My eyes catch the deep red marking on the back of her hand, and I fight the urge to frown as I realize she’s another mate like me—brainwashed into believing the wolves are the bad ones.

I turn toward Jay as he snatches the switchblade off my lap and reaches for my hand. He seems to realize I’m, for the most part, okay, as he huffs and turns my wrist toward him.

“What the hell did you do?” he asks.

I have a feeling he isn’t looking for an answer, but I give one anyway. This incident will be reported, and I’m sure leadership will question them about my behavior.

“I’ve completed my mission, and I didn’t want this dirty mark on me for one second longer,” I spit.

Jay shakes his head, and the woman grabs a package of gauze from a cupboard along the far wall. She looks annoyed as she rips it open and presses on my cut to stop the bleeding, but I don’t blame her.

I’d be annoyed, too, if I were in her position.

They were probably put under strict orders to keep me alive and uninjured, and me cutting off my mark is sure to piss some people off—especially leadership and those who knew about the significance of my mark color.

Why did Jay warn me about it?

I likely wouldn’t have thought of my mark without his comments, but I don’t understand why he would want to help me. Dan hates the wolves more than anybody I’ve ever met, and he’s been a loyal HPAW employee for over thirty years.

It doesn’t make any sense.

Jay and the other nurse fret over my hand, the two efficiently cleaning and bandaging it up.

“I can’t believe Dan left his things here,” Jay says, snatching up the switchblade, phone, and keys.

He shoots me an angry glance before shoving Dan’s things in his pocket and heading to the door. I assume he’s on his way to alert Dan of the issue, and I shift my attention to the blue-haired female nurse as Jay leaves the room.

She’s still working on wrapping up my hand, and I wince as she applies pressure to my torn skin.

“We were under strict orders to leave your mark intact,” she says, her voice low. “Your impatience could cost me my job.”

I lick my lips, struggling to feel bad for her. Having worked for HPAW looks good on a resume, and I’m sure she won’t have any issues finding a job should she get fired.

Besides, if anybody were to get in trouble for this, it would probably be Dan.

Which begs the question of why he would purposefully leave his things here. I suppose there’s always the possibility he intended me to use the switchblade for a different purpose, like maybe to grab and hide for future use, but there’s no way I’d be able to conceal a knife.

There are metal detectors in every main sector, and I know I’m being watched.

Plus, if he didn’t intend for me to use it on my mark, he wouldn’t have ever brought it up, let alone ensure it was the last thing we discussed before he left.

I’ve always been comfortable with the unknown, but even this is pushing my limits. Being laid up on a hospital bed isn’t helping, either, rendering me useless to sneak around and find answers. I hope to get some helpful information from leadership tomorrow, but it isn’t very likely.

If they’re wary of me, they won’t tell me anything.

It’ll be a miracle if they even decide to keep me alive.

Chapter 54

Jay unclips my hospital gown at the shoulders, and I tug the fabric to my waist before lifting my arms and letting him slip a loose cotton bra over my shoulders. The movement fucking hurts, my shoulder and chest screaming, but I don’t care.

I was taken off my pain medication early this morning, and I’m sure as fuck feeling it.

Jay is gentle as he pulls my bra over my chest wound, his eyes narrowing as he ensures the band isn’t cutting into my bandage. It won’t kill me if it is, and I brush away his concern as I reach for my shirt.

It’s a scratchy, black HPAW uniform shirt, and I feel an uncomfortable familiarity with it as Jay helps me get it on. I wore this top daily for years, and I’d begun to believe I’d never be made to wear one again.

That was wishful thinking.

Once the top half of my body is covered, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and plant my feet on the cool, cement floor. My toes curl, and I can’t hide a grimace as I grab onto the arm of the bed and force myself into a standing position.

My knees shake, threatening to give out at a moment’s notice. The sudden movement also makes me dizzy, but it fades after a few seconds.

Jay stands on guard, prepared to catch me at the first sign of trouble.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

I wince before dipping my chin in a jerky nod.

I’m torn. I think showing up in a hospital gown with my ass sticking out would do an excellent job of earning me some pity points, but it’s not what the old Evelyn would have done. She’d have wanted to look strong and in charge when she met with leadership.

The elusive Jonathan, Benjamin, and Theodore.

They’re the ones in charge, the three heading up the entire HPAW organization, and my pulse races as I realize the severity of what’s about to happen. They’re very likely going to be the ones to decide whether or not I’m kept alive, and they’re not easy men to please.

I’ve only had two formal meetings with them, the first when HPAW brought me in when I was seven, and the second the week before I left on my mission.

Jonathan is the youngest of the three, but he’ll be the hardest to convince. His dark blonde hair, wide smile, and boyish look give the impression that he’s the friendliest, but behind that kind exterior is an intelligent, sharp man.

Benjamin should be easier to convince. He’s just as sharp as Jonathan, but he’s always been big on looking at a problem from all angles. While Jonathan will take the approach of guilty until proven innocent, I hope Benjamin will wait until he hears what I have to say before making a decision.

Theodore is a wild card. While I’ve seen the other two around the facility over the years and overheard all the rumors and speculation that circulated about them, Theodore is a closed door.

He typically works out of a facility down south, and we never cross paths.

I assume the room I’m taken to will also contain several board members, Dan included. I’m not eager to hear what he says about me, especially after yesterday’s ominous warning.

My hands shake as I reach for my hospital gown, the cheap fabric still bunched at my waist, and I push at it until it falls to my feet.

I need a break, and I sit on the edge of the bed as Jay grabs my underwear off the side table and crouches. Jay lifts my feet and slides my underwear up my legs, and once we’re at my thighs, I force myself back into a standing position so we can get them up my hips.

It’s embarrassing needed to be dressed like this, but I don’t have the strength to do it myself.

If it weren’t for leadership pushing to speak with me as soon as possible, I’d probably be spending the day resting.

Jay and I work in silence to get a pair of matching black pants up my legs, and once I’m dressed, he quickly works on my socks and shoes.

“You really shouldn’t be moving around,” Jay huffs.

He’s not trying to hide his annoyance at leadership’s decision to call me for a meeting. Despite how angry I made him yesterday afternoon when I cut off my mark, it seems he takes his job as a healer seriously.

It’s a shame his talents are being wasted with HPAW.

Once I’m dressed, he pulls around a wheelchair for me, and I lug myself into it with a pained groan. This isn’t going to be fun. Jay leads me out of the room and down a hallway where I’m sure my escort is waiting.

Sure enough, when we round the corner leading to the elevator, a guard is standing just outside it. I faintly recognize him, his curled black hair and crooked smile familiar, but I can’t put a name to the face.

Oh well.

“Evelyn,” he greets me, his voice low.

I dip my chin as Jay passes me off, and I curl my fingers so hard around the wheelchair handles that my knuckles turn white.

It would look bad for HPAW to kill me after sending me on this mission, especially if they have other marked females in the facility training to do the same thing. It would cause unnecessary stress for those women, and I hope leadership recognizes that.

The guard leads me into the elevator, and tense silence falls upon us as he brings me to the top floor. There are plenty of conference rooms up there, and I’m sure that’s where he’s taking me.

“I’d like to walk in,” I say as the elevator doors open.

The guard looks surprised, his eyes darting to my wheelchair before shifting to the bandage still wrapped around my head, before he shrugs and pushes me into the hallway. He leads me around the corner and comes to a slow stop just outside a door.

“Are you sure you want to walk in?” he asks.

I nod, and with a shaky inhale, I push myself to my feet and make my way to the door. Every step hurts, and I move comically slow as I push open the door and step inside the room.

Jonathan, Benjamin, and Theodore are sitting at the head of a large conference table. Surrounding them are six council members I’ve never met before, and among them is Dan. The chatter in the room abruptly stops as my presence is noted, and I hope nobody can tell I’m in pain as I make my way to the last empty seat at the table.

It’s the one furthest from leadership.

Jonathan is the first to break the silence. “Good afternoon. I’m glad to hear your surgery went well.”

I doubt that’s true. They probably hoped I’d die on the table and they wouldn’t have to deal with me.

“Thank you,” I smoothly respond. “I appreciate that.”

My voice hitches as I lower myself into my chair, and pain flares through my chest as I sit. Fuck. That drained me more than I wanted, and I take a few seconds to collect myself before clasping my hands on the table and meeting Jonathan’s eye.

“I suppose you’d like to hear about my mission?” I ask.

He nods. “We would.”

“Great!” My tone doesn’t come across as chipper as I’d like.

I quickly launch into a recap of the last few months. The beginning, especially the part where I was still loyal to HPAW, is easy to share. I walk them through Caleb’s behavior toward me before explaining everything I did to capture information and earn his trust.

I explain how I tried gaining access to Caleb’s computer and office, but things get dicey when I reach the part where I tried to slit Caleb’s throat and run away.

“It turns out he suspected me from the beginning. I don’t know how, but he revealed he knew the truth well before I attempted to assassinate him,” I admit. “Caleb decided he no longer wanted me as a mate, but he also wasn’t willing to let me leave the pack. He moved me into an apartment in the center of his land, and from that moment forward, I was excluded from all pack business.”

Dan clasps his hands on the table and leans forward.

“You were granted access to information on their bonds and markings, were you not?” he asks.

I really need to figure out who the fuck their informant is.

“Yes, that’s true,” I say. “The mate bond is powerful, and I believe I could have gotten back into Caleb’s good graces with time. I needed to look like I truly regretted my actions, so I began researching the mate mark under the guise of wanting to fix mine.”

Dan cocks his head to the side.

“…And what did you find?”

I lick my lips, glancing around the room. Every pair of eyes is on me, and I can’t fuck this up.

“Nothing helpful. The color signals the strength of the bond. The lighter it is, the stronger it is.” This isn’t information I’d intended to share, but given what Dan said to me yesterday, they already know. “What changes the color is fairly subjective and varies depending on the couple, but the big ones are infidelity and abuse.”

Jonathan turns and whispers something to Benjamin. Theodore glances at the two but doesn’t seem particularly eager to hear what Jonathan has to say.

I am. I’d kill to know what they’re whispering to one another.

“I’d love to know what prompted you to cut off your mark,” Benjamin says.

Attention shifts to my hand, and I’m pleased Jay took it upon himself to wrap it before sending me off. The gauze needs to be changed soon, my blood beginning to seep through. It stings like a bitch, but I’m glad my mark is gone. It would’ve given me away.

“I was promised it would be removed once I completed my mission.” I pause and clear my throat, letting that sink in. It’s true, and I was always adamant that I wanted it gone the moment I returned. I was ashamed of it, ashamed my body was permanently disfigured with the marking of a wolf mate.

“I was quite disappointed when I woke up and saw it was still intact, so I took matters into my own hands,” I continue.

My back breaks into a cold sweat as I await my next question. Most of this time has been filled with me sharing my story and explaining what happened while I was in the wolf lands, and I’m sure everybody in this room is full of questions.

I would be if I were them.

Still, despite that, silence stretches. The council members glance between leadership and me, no doubt waiting for them to give direction. Jonathan and Benjamin continue to whisper to one another, their voices so low it’s impossible to make out what they’re saying.

It pisses me off, and it takes everything in me not to show them that.

That’s probably what they’re aiming for. They want me to get emotional and say something I shouldn’t. I won’t.

Time passes, each second feeling like an excruciatingly long minute. The councilwoman on my left shifts, swiping her tongue over her lips before tapping her fingers aimlessly against the table. Her nails click against the wooden surface, but it’s relatively quiet.

The table we sit at is empty, with not a tablet or pen in sight. I’m surprised, but I assume it was very much intentional. Leadership probably didn’t want any distractions.

“I’m sure you’re concerned about where my allegiance lies,” I say, addressing the elephant in the room. “You trained me to play a part, and that’s what I was doing. Despite what my actions may have hinted at or what your informant has told you, I am still a loyal member of HPAW.”

Saying this may end up being my biggest mistake, but it seems silly not to considering we all know that’s why I’m here.

Theodore clears his throat, preparing to speak for the first time.

“What do you think, Dan?” he asks, shifting his attention to my pseudo-father.

Dan leans back in his chair as he thinks over the question. I hold my breath, anxious to hear what he has to say. He made it clear he wasn’t going to be on my side, but his word means a lot. Everybody knows he’s the one who spent the most time with me in the facility, and I’m sure they place a lot of value on his opinion.

“I’m not sure,” Dan eventually says. “Evelyn was a faithful HPAW employee, and she was committed to her role in our organization. She spent significant time with the wolves, and I see why there is cause for concern, but I think it’s worth having further discussions.”

It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing.

I swallow past the lump in my throat as Benjamin stands from his chair. What’s he doing? He holds eye contact with me as he walks to the door I entered through, his steps smooth and confident.

My pulse races as he pulls it open to reveal the guard who brought me here. The man straightens up as he realizes he’s being summoned, and his eyes flicker to me as he steps into the room.

“Put her with the wolf for now,” Benjamin tells the guard, dismissing me.

I assume ‘the wolf’ is Adam, and I bite my tongue to prevent from making any physical reactions. This means he’s alive.

With one last glance at Benjamin, I place my palms on the table and push up. A quiet groan slips out of the back of my throat as I do so, and my guard hurries forward to grab my elbow and help steady me.

I wanted to do this by myself, but I don’t reject the help as I shuffle out of the conference room.

This didn’t go how I wanted, but I’m alive, so I can’t complain too much.

Being put with Adam is a test, I know that, but I can’t help but feel excited as my guard leads me to my wheelchair. Please let Adam be okay.

Chapter 55

Adam is being kept at the lowest level of the facility.

It’s where all captured wolves are taken, but I’ve never been to that floor. There was never a reason for me to go, and I didn’t have clearance.

The guard holds his ID card over the scanner inside the elevator before hitting the button for the bottom floor, and I clasp my hands nervously in my lap as the doors close and we begin our descent. The facility is five floors in total, three of which are underground.

Most of the leadership and council members’ offices are on the top floor, and surrounding them are conference rooms. I seldom go up there, excluding the rare occasions like today when I need to defend my innocence and subtly beg for my life.

The floor directly below it isn’t nearly as exciting. A large cafeteria and gym make up most of the space, and housing for select HPAW employees makes up the rest. It’s where I lived before being sent on my mission, and I know of several other marked females who live there, too.

There’s a male wing I’ve never gone to before, but I assume it’s just as full as the female one.

I was lucky enough to have been given a room with a small round window, but I’m sure it’s been taken over by another female by now. Those are always the most sought-after rooms.

I nervously tap my fingers against my thigh as the elevator brings us to the underground levels. They’ve always been the most interesting, where the real HPAW work gets completed.

I used to have access to them all, minus the very bottom floor, but I doubt that’ll be the case now.

The first underground floor is where the scientists work. There’s a large, high-tech lab I’ve never been allowed inside, but most of this level is offices.

The scientists insist on having quiet places to be alone and work, and HPAW indulges them.

I used to like most of the scientists, even if they found me annoying more often than not, and I enjoyed peering into the glass walls that separate the hallway from the lab. It was fun to watch the scientists work, their calculated, smooth movements an excellent way to pass the time.

The second underground floor was never one of my favorites. There’s a second gym there, one Dan used to drag me to when we needed to do our private, intense training. It was built after a few scientists saw me getting leveled in the above-ground gym and voiced their concerns to leadership.

My true purpose in HPAW was kept relatively quiet from most people, and many didn’t realize just how vital, or violent, my training needed to be.

The second underground floor is also where medical is stationed.

My pulse races as the elevator slows to a stop on the third and bottom floor.

While I’ve never had clearance to travel this far down, I’ve heard rumors of what’s on this level.

Most notably, the wolf quarters.

The guards love to talk about it, especially when there’s a wolf inside, and I’ve heard a lot over the years. Most say the wolves are kept in a large concrete room. There was an incident about fifteen ago with a wolf breaking through the plaster wall and killing six guards in an escape attempt, and they ratcheted up the safety measures afterward.

Along with the wolf quarters is the room where a select few scientists and medical staff come to run tests on the wolves.

I wonder if the room from the video Caleb showed me is from this facility or another.

I’m not sure I want to know.

The elevator doors open, and the guard wheels me into a large hallway. There’s a guard stationed on either side of the wall, both wearing full tactical gear, and they glance in my direction before shifting their attention to the guard behind me.

“I’m under orders to put her with the wolf,” he says.

There’s some shuffling of his clothes, and I assume he’s pulling out and flashing his ID card. The guard on the left, a tall, burly man with an unnervingly long beard, nods and resumes his position against the wall.

There’s a large gun slung over his shoulder, and I eye it before glancing at the other guard. He has one as well. The guards on the other levels don’t carry weapons, at least not out in the open like this, and it’s unnerving to see.

That’s going to make it hard to escape.

My chauffeur pushes me forward, and I take this time to look around and take everything in. The crisp, bare hallways look identical to the other floors, and I realize quickly that the layout is the same.

That’s good.

The tension down here is noticeably thicker, though, with no chatter or footsteps to be heard. It’s like a ghost town.

I’m not a fan.

My guard makes a sharp left at the end of the hallway. He seems to know exactly where he’s going, and we pass by two more hallway openings before making a right. I curl my fingers around my wheelchair handles as we come up on a steel door, the silver metal noticeably different from the glass used within the rest of the facility.

He scans his ID card, and the door makes a quiet buzz as it unlocks. I hold my breath as he pulls it open to reveal another short hallway. The walls, flooring, and ceiling are made of cement, and the guard wheels me into the center of it before gesturing to the second steel door in front of me.

“This is as far as I can go,” he says. “That door will unlock automatically once I leave, and on the other side is the wolf.”

He pushes me right up to the second door before awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I’ll need to take the wheelchair with me,” he continues.

Of course he does. My knees shake as I push up to my feet, and I grimace as I awkwardly step away from the chair. I have to plant a hand on the wall to stabilize myself, and I drop my head as my vision funnels.

I better not fucking pass out.

The guard makes a nervous noise in the back of his throat, and I hear his clothing rustle as he shifts. If I weren’t feeling like shit, I’d probably take pleasure in making him uncomfortable.

“I’m fine,” I choke out.

A few seconds pass before I no longer feel like I’m about to faint, and I lift my chin and lock eyes with my guard. He looks terrified, and I smile weakly before shuffling the two steps to the second door.

He retreats, taking my wheelchair with him, and I listen as the first door shuts behind him. It’s nerve-wracking being trapped in this tiny hallway, and I do my best to steady my breathing as I wait for the door in front of me to unlock.

I don’t have to wait long, and almost immediately a quiet buzz fills the air.

I suppose it’s now or never.

The door is heavy, and I grab the handle with both hands before yanking on it. It hardly budges, naturally, and I pause to catch my breath before trying again.

My shoulder stings, and I feel the stitches in my chest tugging with the force I’m using to pull open the door.

“Adam?” I shout through the crack.

The door is fully pushed open a second later, and I clutch my hands to my chest as I lock eyes with my annoying neighbor. It’s so good to see him, and my muscles instinctively relax with the confirmation that he’s still alive.

Even if he looks like shit.

His hair hangs limply by his ears, and he’s still in the tattered suit he wore to Caleb’s birthday party. I swallow past the lump in my throat, willing myself not to cry as I take in the dried blood coating his arms and neck.

It looks like he managed to wipe away what was on his face but gave up shortly after.

Around his neck is a metal collar, and a blinking red light is at the front of it. What’s that for?

“Adam,” I say, my voice low.

He looks down at me, his attention lingering on my head and chest. You can’t see my bandage beneath my shirt, but I’m sure he remembers the injury. It’s probably hard to forget a giant piece of metal sticking out of a chest.

Adam licks his lips, his arm shaking where it holds the door, and I shuffle forward as quickly as possible. Adam makes a pointed effort not to let his neck go anywhere near the doorway, and I realize with horror it must hurt him if he gets too close.

I bite my tongue to prevent from reacting too strongly as I step inside the room. It’s a small space, with only a tiny cot and toilet inside.

The cot is welded to the floor, and the top of it is nothing more than a few planks of wood. There’s no mattress or blanket to sleep on, and it looks no more comfortable than the floor. The toilet is metal, and I wince as I realize there’s no toilet seat.

I’m too weak to squat.

Adam releases the door and lets it small shut behind us, and the buzzing of the lock immediately stops.

“Evelyn,” he breathes.

His arms are wrapped around me a second later, and I fight my body’s instinct to curl into his chest for comfort as he pulls me toward the small cot. He helps me sit, his touch gentle as he holds my waist and lowers me onto my butt.

A second later he’s pulling up my shirt, his hands shaky as he peels back my bandage to look at my cut. He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees the stitches, and I don’t put up much of a fuss as he repeats his inspection on my head.

“Have you seen a doctor yet?” I ask.

Adam snorts before giving a curt shake of his head.

“I woke up in this room what I assume was a few days ago. You’re the first person I’ve seen,” he admits. “But I’m okay.”

Why haven’t they brought him in for questioning? Or even for testing? Capturing a wolf is typically a big deal for HPAW, and they don’t usually waste time launching their experiments whenever they’ve got their hands on one.

I’m thankful they’ve decided to take their time with Adam, but it still confuses me.

“Do you remember anything after the stop for gas?” I ask, glancing toward the ceiling.

The walls of this room are made of smooth cement, and the ceiling matches. I don’t see any cameras, but I don’t doubt they’re here. HPAW likely hid them to make the wolves feel a sense of privacy.

Probably in the hopes the wolves get comfortable and accidentally give something away.

“No,” Adam admits. “Do you?”

I shake my head, but I don’t elaborate. Whatever that soldier gave me knocked me out cold, and I didn’t come to until I was being carried to the medical wing.

“Why do you think Caleb didn’t rescue us?” I pry.

If this is the test I think it is, HPAW will want to see me asking these kinds of questions. I’d be taking this opportunity to pry all the information I can out of Adam, and I hope he’s smart enough not to say anything meaningful.

Adam’s nose crinkles, and he glances at the wall behind my head before sitting on the floor by my feet. I feel bad for kicking him off his cot, but I don’t think my body could handle being on the ground. I miss the bliss of the pain medication I was given yesterday.

It made me feel like I was floating, but now I feel like complete shit.

“I don’t know…” Adam says, picking at a piece of lint on his tattered dress pants. “I don’t remember anything after the explosion, and I’m not exactly a part of Alpha Caleb’s inner circle, so I don’t know his plans.”

He said the same thing in the truck, and I believe him, but I push anyway.

“Yeah, but you lived and worked within the main pack,” I urge.

Adam looks at me like I’m crazy. Caleb keeps a close circle, but he is quiet about who those people are. I’m obviously aware of Cole and Sash, but beyond them, I was kept in the dark. I assume Adam knows more than me, but probably not everything.

I tried learning who was in Caleb’s inner circle when I would sit with him in his office, keeping tabs on who he went to meetings with and how much he prepared beforehand, but I never discovered anything useful.

That was probably intentional.

Caleb knew, or at least heavily suspected, I was a member of HPAW, and he wouldn’t have risked me finding out that information.

“Who would be next in line if something happened to Caleb?” I ask.

I know it’s Cole, but that’s not information I want HPAW to know I know. I intend to play as dumb as possible around HPAW.

Adam plants his palms on the ground behind him and leans back. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes again trailing down my figure. I’m wearing the typical HPAW uniform, but I suppose he doesn’t know what it is if he hasn’t been let out of the room.

“I mean, there is a formal chain of command, isn’t there?” I continue.

I lean forward and lower my voice, pretending like I’m trying to keep quiet. HPAW surely has state-of-the-art cameras and microphones here, and I doubt whispering would do anything. If they want to know what’s going on in this room, they’ll know.

Are they watching right now?

I’m willing to bet they are. Leadership probably has guards monitoring us twenty-four-seven and flagging whenever we discuss something of interest.

This conversation will definitely get flagged.

Adam clears his throat and glances around the room.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss this right now,” he admits.

Oh, thank god.

I was worried Adam would talk, but he’s got enough common sense to keep quiet. That’s good, and I hope he continues to do so when HPAW inevitably pulls him in for questioning. I’m sure his interrogation will be quite intense, and probably significantly more painful than mine was.

I stare at Adam, and my heart races as I realize it’s only a matter of time before they torture him. I saw the video of what they did to that other wolf, and I can’t fathom them doing it to my sweet, meddlesome neighbor.

HPAW raised me to believe the wolves were terrible, practically inhuman, but they’re just like us. Adam spends his day teaching, only to come home to eat chips and watch TV. He’s not some evil mastermind plotting the best ways to murder humans and take over the world.

I lift my good arm and gesture around the room.

“There aren’t cameras in here,” I say.

It’s a lie, and I’m sure we both know it.

Adam purses his lips, looking confused.

“Evelyn?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

I blink and widen my eyes, overplaying the innocent act. I want Adam to pick up on what I’m doing, but I don’t want to make it too obvious and alert HPAW.

Adam very likely still has doubts about me, all the wolves do. I’m sure he’s torn between understanding if I’m doing this because I’m loyal to the wolves, or if he thinks I’m genuinely dedicated to HPAW.

There’s no way to explain my plan to him, either, but at least either option results in the same outcome.

If he thinks I’m a part of HPAW, he won’t talk. If he thinks I’m with the wolves and I’m playing up my HPAW loyalty, he still won’t talk.

Adam presses his lips together before turning to face the door. The action is a clear dismissal of me, and the muscle on the side of his jaw twitches before he wraps his arms around his legs and rests his chin on his knees.

I hide a smile as I turn and lay back on the wooden cot.

____

Adam is alive!!!