Page 14 of Dark Revolution

Chapter 3

Stanlion

Cryoprison 458

Jaxxon

Agony.It splinters through my body, crashing through me until I cannot even breathe. Pulling deep into myself, I search for the bond, needing to know that Annalise is okay even while they torture me. When I break free, Roderick will be the first to die. I’ll steal my mate away and go to some distant land if I have to.

She will be safe. Even as I search for the bond, the image of her spread for him, reaching for him when he’s not even her true mate, makes me want to both hurl and rip Roderick limb from limb. I keep searching, keep digging, but the bond is not there. The further I dig, the more horrendous the pain becomes until I’m engulfed in it.

Each breath is a ragged shard of torment. I’m rendered immobile, unable to do anything but process the grief that comes flooding through my system. Annalise is dead. My body is finally catching up to what my brain and heart already know. That bastard promised me that she would live while I suffered in torment. Why kill her?

Taking in as deep a breath as my body allows, I force my eyes open, force myself to witness the scene he prepared just for me. Darkness tinged with the barest of light assaults my eyes. Even that small sliver is too much. Groaning, I toss my head back and forth, forcing my brain to work. He’s obviously drugged me. That’s the only reason I wouldn’t be responding. Is this the precursor to that fabled Cryosleep? The technology is new, barely operational. Why would he even threaten that? It must have been to buy him time to fuck and kill my precious mate.

I lift my arm, shocked at the limp noodle it’s become. It’s like I’m a newborn baby, unable to do even the simplest of tasks. What the fuck is going on? I lean against whatever surface is behind me and test each of my limbs. Though I can shift about, the muscles protest every inch of movement until I must once again lie back.

Panting, I force myself to seek out that missing bond again. Like a tongue that can’t leave a hole in a tooth alone, I probe at the spot where Annalise should be. Pain and anguish flare back up, but not as bad as before. Though it does steal my breath, it becomes more manageable. Perhaps if I force myself to keep confronting it, then maybe I can start to heal. A half-life is still a life.

Whole or not, Roderick will die. The sheer hubris of him leaving me here alone and drugged will be his undoing. I may not be able to move right now, but he’s severely underestimated the amount of rage swirling just below the well of pain. In fact, every shaft of agony that comes through me just fuels that fire even more.

By the time I’m able to move again, he’ll not know the monster he unleashed. Fuck the King. Fuck the High Council. What they did to me - to us - is inexcusable. I have every right to see him dead. The laws of our land are clear. Though I’ve bent some in the past to my advantage, to kill a sacred omega...not even the king himself will be able to stop Roderick’s execution.

Opening my eyes again, I find the light just a bit more tolerable. That’s a start. If I can open my eyes long enough to look at the space I’m in, perhaps I’ll be able to get out. I roll my head on my shoulders, sighing as my bones pop and snap into place. Nausea rolls through my gut, seizing my body until I have no choice but to turn to the side and throw up.

Fire blazes from my gut to my throat as I upend the unknown contents onto the floor. The sound of my vomit splatters against what sounds like concrete, giving me some clue as to where I am. They’ve moved me from the initial space where Roderick defiled Annalise in front of me. That room was tiled. The echo is also different. There is nothing here to deaden the sound. Another wave of sickness grips me, and I hurl once more.

Each time I throw up, I learn a little bit more about my surroundings. I know that I’m alone. There is no extra body mass absorbing the sound. Finally, my stomach settles, and I lean back. I move to wipe my mouth, and my arm responds much quicker than before. My head spins a bit from the effort, so I lie back and breathe.

Each moment, I’m getting more of my strength back. I just have to ease my way into it. A neuron inhibitor shouldn’t cause this. Nothing about my body feels right. Tears gather in my eyes and slide down my cheeks as my brain unerringly goes back to Annalise. As much as I force myself to forget about her, to shove her away, I just can’t.

She’s a gaping hole inside of me. One that I know I’ll never be able to fill again. Roaring my anger to the heavens, I grip my fingers into fists. “Elex, god of the warriors, grant me the strength I need to leave this prison. Jarosh, god of the wronged, help me avenge my mate’s death. I have nothing to give you. I have no offerings for you. Do this for me, and I will find a sacrifice.”

Even as the words slip past my lips, I feel the impotence of my situation. Still barely able to move, all I can do is lie there as a pained cry rips from my throat. A chunk of me is gone. I know this. But knowing and experiencing are two completely different things. I know losing a mate is hard. I’ve heard the horror stories of omegas not lasting long after their heart and soul is lost in battle, but I never expected to be on the receiving end.

I feel so lost. So alone. I never expected to feel like this, and thus was never able to prepare or train. If anything, I thought I would die protecting the crown - a death fit for an Alpha Guardian - and that my mate would follow me into the afterlife. I never expected her to go first. If she’s dead, that means I failed to protect her.

That sense of failure skitters along my spine, filling my gut until I am consumed with a mixture of grief, abject humiliation, and rage. I should have been there. I should have kept her safe. Roderick knocked me out, allowing him to act out his nefarious plans. I lift my hands again, this time finding strength in the limbs.

Shocked, I test out my legs, finding that I can once again move. I’m not at full capacity, but I am still a force to be reckoned with. The moment I step forward, the room is flooded with a bright light. Blinking at the sudden illumination, I close my eyes again and watch as spots dance in front of me.

I give it a few moments before cracking an eye open and slowly letting myself reacclimate to the blazing light. I am indeed alone with just a monitor and several cords taking up space. Turning behind me, I see the back half of what looks like a pod. At least they propped me up somewhere semi-comfortable.

An eerie sense overcomes me. Something isn’t right. Looking down, I realize that not only am I naked but there are also cords and electrodes coming off of me. My stomach twists again, but I force it down. The sour stench of my vomit is already overwhelming enough. I don’t need to add any more to it.

One by one, I pick off different things stuck to my body, watching with fascination as various vital signs disappear from the main screen. Perhaps they had plans of dissecting me, harvesting me for some dark purpose, but were interrupted. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s better than going around in circles, desperate to find answers.

Stupid cunts probably planned the whole thing, even going as far as killing Annalise just for me to feel that extra bite of pain when they tortured me, and the Cryosleep thing was just a ruse. What they don’t know is my capacity for rage. As much as losing her is crippling and debilitating, it adds fuel to the inferno raging inside of me. The emptiness of our bond just gives me extra room to store the righteous fury I plan to rain down upon them.

I’ve removed all of the wires and tubes connecting me to the machines except one. Looking down at my cock, I stare at the thin tubing disappearing into my shaft. I’ve been around enough hospitals to know a catheter when I see one. The difference is, the males were usually knocked out when it was put in or taken out. I’ve never seen one removed, but I have a good idea that just yanking it out isn’t the right move.

With tentative tugs, I pull on the tube, just to test how much resistance there is. Pain shoots up the shaft and into my balls, and I hunch over, grunting at the pain. Another jerk, another bout of pain. This one drives me to my knees, and I barely miss landing in the puddle of my vomit.

I’m getting nowhere with these small tugs. Glancing around, I find a padded cuff dangling from the coffin I was laying in, and I grip it between my teeth. With one strong pull, I yank the tubing out of me, howling as it rips through.

Looking down, there’s still some left inside. It’s much longer than I anticipated. I give a tentative tug, praying it will just slide out. But it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t. With one final tug, I wrench it free.

White-hot pain sears through my groin, and I about fall face down as sheer agony rips through my body. I look down again, my frame trembling as I pray it all came out. On the floor, the tubing lays in a coiled heap with a small balloon at the end. Praise Elex, but it’s out.