“Doc’s gone. Are we really going to—”
His voice faltered as his gaze snagged on the crack in thedoor.
I followed it before I could stop myself.
In the mirror’s reflection, I saw what had stopped Silas in his tracks. A glimpse of Lena's back as she undressed.
She was so much smaller than I’d imagined and so damn frail. Her shoulders were sharp beneath thin skin and her ribs stood out as if there were barely anything holding her together. Bruises mottled her body in every shade of decay, some yellowed with age, others dark, angry, and new.
But it was the scars that punched the air from my lungs.
They traced a brutal path from her neck down her back, jagged and deep, the kind left by someone who took their time. Someone like my brother and me, as much as I hated to admit.
A low growl tore out of my chest before I could stop it.
Lena froze, turning over her shoulder, meeting my eyes in the mirror. Her eyes went wide as she realized what we had seen. Color flooded her face, shame burning hot. Then she moved fast, slipping behind the shower curtain and yanking it closed as water roared to life.
Silas’s hands curled at his sides, knuckles whitening. His jaw locked, his breath coming hard through his nose.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said, in a flat and deadly tone.
I didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”
The water hammered against the tile, steam quickly filling the bathroom. A quiet sound slipped from Lena’s throat, barely more than a breath, as the heat sank into her tired bones.
Standing there, listening to that small, stolen moment of relief, something clicked into place.
Lena wasn’t just an informant. She wasn’t a problem tosolve or an asset to manage.
She was a victim.
Just like our mother had been.
And suddenly, the intel mattered less than the revenge that came after. Marco Bellini would pay, but not yet. We couldn’t complete our plan until Lena trusted us enough to speak.
So we would wait. We would do everything Dr. Hampton told us to do. And when the runt gave us what we needed, we would make sure Marco paid forbothof them.
Chapter 7: Lena
Ididn’t trust any of it. Not my two alpha handlers who now lingered near me every moment of the day, and not the seemingly, kind doctor who sat patiently through appointment after appointment, asking questions I never responded to.
Part of me warned that my escape, near interrogation, and sudden shift to therapeutic rehabilitation were all part of an elaborate ruse coordinated by Marco. Maybe Silas and Knox were secretly on his payroll. I was almost certain that the moment I opened my mouth and gave them even a single piece of intel, Marco would reveal himself, and his punishment for betrayal would be brutal.
Even now, as I sat in the conference room, my eyes kept darting to every corner, searching for him.
Knox’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Lena, how did you like your breakfast this morning?”
I said nothing.
Eggs. A strip of crispy bacon. A small bunch of grapes.
I pushed the eggs around the plate and nibbled at thecorner of the bacon, cautiously testing both. But the grapes… I couldn’t stop myself. I ate several, then when he wasn’t watching, slipped a few more into my pocket for later.
Yesterday, Knox had served me strawberries, yogurt, and granola for breakfast. I wasn’t used to the variety. The choices alone had made my stomach twist, anxiety crawling up my throat as I stared at the bowl.
Breakfast in captivity had been the same every morning. A small bowl of oatmeal. Mushy, flavorless oatmeal. Safe though, because it never changed.
My dreams were filled with breakfasts like these. I had imagined them in quiet moments, rich with color and choice, the kind of meals that meant freedom. Now that they sat in front of me, a dream made real, my body revolted. Every instinct screamed that it was a trap, because too many options meant danger. I worried that the food would make me sick, hurt me, or worse, be taken away the moment I let myself enjoy it.
