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I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, crying with my hands and forehead against the glass, but eventually, the tears stopped, my pulse settled, and a small sense of calm washed over me.
I could still feel their hearts beating on the other side, steady and sure. Just like my men. Solid and unwavering.
Unless their belief and love for me were wavering.
I wouldn’t blame them if it was.
Moord could be very convincing, and he probably told them all kinds of vicious lies about me. He probably told them that this was all part of the plan, that I was just like Nereza, a psychotic Hellcat with no empathy or scruples, and that I’d manipulated them and lied to them since day one.
My bare toes were nearly frozen on the cold concrete floor, and my belly rumbled with hunger, but I didn’t want any of the food on the table next to my bed. I didn’t want to put on the clothes they had folded neatly for me on the dresser.
I didn’t want to live like this again.
This wasn’t living. This was being kept alive. And there was a big difference.
The door to my chamber opened, and I could instantly smell Moord. I’d heard and felt heartbeats passing my door since I woke up, so I didn’t pay them any mind, which was why when my door opened, I was slightly surprised and lifted my head enough to see who it was.
When I realized it was Moord and Nereza, I put my head back against the glass and closed my eyes. “No, thanks,” I murmured.
They both chuckled.
“She thinks she has a choice?” Nereza said, almost under her breath. “None of us have achoice.”
Moord stalked into the room and went over to the Trima machine. “Not enough,” he said with a grunt.
“Too bad,” I replied. “My blood, my body, my choice.”
I didn’t have a chance to duck away before he had my hair snatched up in his fist and my eyes brought to within an inch of his disgusting face, which looked like it’d been put through a meat grinder, then pasted back together in the dark. “Didn’t you just hear Nereza? You don’thavea choice. You’ve never had a choice, and you never will. You are government property. You belong tome. And I will do as I see fit with your body.” He jerked harder on my hair. “Understand?”
Spit flew out of his mouth, hitting me in the eye and cheek. I cringed and looked away from him. “You couldn’t have found a smart Sigma doctor to sew your face back on? Had to get an idiot Kappa child to do it with glue in a dark basement?”
I should have seen it coming.
I was getting rusty anticipating his reactions. So when the gloved hand with the spikes on the back slammed into my face, I was shocked.
I flew across the room, and my head cracked against the concrete wall. But that was the least of my problems. Those spikes had torn my face up pretty good, and blood dripped down in thick droplets onto my dirty, oversize white T-shirt.
“Get her up,” Moord barked at Nereza before spinning on his heel and leaving the room.
My head throbbed and my face burned as Nereza stepped toward me, still wearing that red leather catsuit with the matching flat red leather boots. She roughly shoved a hand under my arm and hauled me up. “I’m not stupid enough to be carrying an accessible weapon,” she said, practically dragging me out of the room. “And I know that you’re a triple threat, so I’m also not stupid enough to fight you. Unlike Jayva, who I’m sure got her throat slit in the woods. She had an ego. Thought she could take you. Begged Moord for the shot, so he gave it to her.” She clucked her tongue. “Don’t expect me to be that stupid.”
I tipped a heated, murderous eye to Nereza as she led me down a dark, narrow corridor, my face burning and blood dripping everywhere.
“But you just had nearly three pints of blood drawn from you, so you’re not at full strength. Try anything, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the wall so you’re a vegetable source for the rest of your miserable life.” To reaffirm her message, she jerked me harder, and I nearly tripped over my own feet. We took several corners before she stopped in front of a door with a reinforced glass window.
Her hand fell to the knob, but commotion around the corner of men shouting and the sounds of fists colliding with faces made her pause and lift her head.
I took that moment of Nereza’s distraction, jerked from her grasp and did just like she threatened to do to me. I smashed her head against the concrete wall. She went down with a thud, but I wasn’t daft enough to believe that would kill her. She had to be packing, and sure enough, she had a Yakku blade—myYakku blade, that bitch—strapped to her ankle. I bent down, grabbed it, yanked on her hair and slit her throat right there in the hallway. “That’s for Chance,” I said before spitting on her face. Then because we all knew that Moord hadn’t been killed from a sliced throat, I stabbed her half a dozen times in the chest, too. “And that’s for Zane.”
I checked her over for more weapons, only finding her own Yakku blade with gleaming yellow metal and a dagger. With those in my hands, I took off down the hallway toward the commotion. My face still stung, so as I walked, I brought the bottom of my baggy T-shirt up to mop up my face.
Fuck Moord and that glove. I fucking hated that glove.
I rounded the corner, prepared for more bloodshed, only to find Zane, Rix and Jorik putting down the last of their three soldier escorts.
My chest heaved, and my heart swelled. My men. They were okay.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, fighting the urge to throw myself into their arms.
