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“I was arrested, wasn’t I. I’ve been a bad boy, I suppose. Not unlike my nephew, Torin.”
Finding Wrath Rivet in my cells is like finding a primal in a mouse trap. It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason he would be here unless he agreed to be here. He has the resources to walk in and out of places like this at will. And that means he’s amusing himself or collecting intelligence. This cannot be a coincidence.
“I met your human mate,” he says. “She’s impressive, for a walking, talking, hot meal.”
“She’s also gone. Did you have anything to do with that?”
He chuckles. “Can’t say I did. She walked herself out of the cell without much trouble at all. Pushed her way out between the bars, then went over and hid behind the door, waited for the guard to change, and slipped out. Wasn’t exactly a great escape.”
“She pushed her way out from the bars,” I repeat.
“She did.”
The urge to curse is almost unbearable, but I refrain. This has all been an exercise in foolish assumptions on my part. I have become accustomed to trusting in the infrastructure of my domain, relying on cells and guards, and the sheer authority of my position. It never occurred to me that a human with no respect for any of it would just walk through all of it.
“Why are you here, Wrath?”
“I heard your girl had been put into the cells. Was quite the scene. Went through the underworld right quick, it did. And you know me. I’m a curious kind of guy. I wanted to meet her, and what better way than to meet her than in your cells?”
I pull out a key, unlock his cell, and swing the door open. Wrath is grinning at me in a way that should infuriate me, but I know if he was actually involved in her escape, he would not be here. He’s fucking with me. As the alpha of the Grave City underworld, Wrath loves nothing better than to fuck with the law.
“Do you know where she went?”
“Out the front door, presumably. I spent the night here, as you can tell.”
He wants to be coy. He’s going to regret that.
Raine
The lawless saurians leave me on the floor and depart, still bickering amongst themselves. As soon as they leave, I attempt to move. It hurts, but I knew it would hurt. I have to breathe shallowly in order to avoid the worst of the lancing pain. But I can still get up, and I can still walk. I am very glad that they didn’t break my legs or fuck with any joints. So far I’m practically uninjured.
The cellar isn’t very big, and it doesn’t contain much besides a few barrels of stuff that smell like a cross between molasses and wine. The saurians like their beverages a lot thicker than humans do. Even the water seems more viscous on this planet.
There’s only one way in or out of this place. The trap door that may or may not be obvious from the top. I don’t think they’ve taken me to an obvious location. It’s probably the basement of a store of some kind. Probably a store that doesn’t actually operate as a store, though I guess I will discover that soon enough when the morning comes. If I hear activity going on upstairs, sounds of general commerce, that will be a clue.
My mouth is swollen on the side that my tooth got cracked. I wonder if saurian dentistry stretches to human teeth. Probably not. That’s going to be hell to get fixed.
I am hungry and thirsty. The last thing I ate or drank was at Thorn’s house. I’m beginning to regret having thrown food at Sullivan. It would have been a much better use of my energy and saved me more pain than I could have possibly anticipated.
I work out pretty quickly that the only thing to eat or drink is what’s in the barrels. My guess is it’s going to be alcoholic at the very least, maybe more. Hopefully it takes the edge off the pain I’m in.
I crack a barrel and dip a cupped hand into the liquid interior. Supping it cautiously at first, I find that it tastes a lot like it smells. Absolutely fucking delicious. I can feel it going down warm, and that sensation runs through me, expanding out through my stomach. I scoop handful after handful of the stuff down, enjoying it like I’ve never enjoyed any food before. I do notice that it seems to have some psychoactive effects, but that’s not the worst thing in the world.
My mind starts to drift as my body finally relaxes after what feels like never-ending tension. I lie down on the floor, which is more comfortable than any mattress I can remember. The present fades and the past starts to rush toward me.
Avel
“These bars make it easy for you, don’t they, executioner? Your prisoners come to you bound, physically and by the mores of the alpha. You’ve never had to go up against any of our kind in a fair fight, have you? You’re soft. That’s why you’re standing out there, shouting in here. And it’s why you’ll never see that pretty little human again.”
I put my hand on the cell door, intending to pull it open. Instead, in a surge of rage, the entire thing comes off in my grip. I find myself staring at the warped frame, befuddled.
“That probably shouldn’t do that,” I murmur to myself, dropping it on the metal floor with a clang.
“This entire place is flimsier than it looks,” Wrath says. “Seems to me that could be an analogy for something.”
“Shut up,” I snarl as I step into the cell, backing Wrath into a corner. There is almost no space between us. I can feel his breath on my chest as he snorts and huffs and lowers his head. That horn of his could be dangerous. He could run me through with it if I was to let down my guard. But I don’t think this is going to turn into a physical fight. I think he’s going to give me what I want, because there is no choice.
“Where is my mate?”
