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Chapter 10
Dušan
The punch to the gut sends me to the floor, blood coating my mouth. I suck in each raspy breath, clutching my middle, curling in on myself.Goddamn idiots.When this is all over, they’ll be on the chopping block along with this fucker, Mad.
I’m furious that men who once were loyal to me have betrayed me. Now, they don’t even look me in the face, ashamed of what they’ve become, but it didn’t stop them from changing allegiances. They believe this liar glaring at me will be their salvation. Well, they can all go down with Mad.
I cough, spitting blood on the stone floor, looking out at the two guards.
But it’s Mad’s twisted smirk I zero in on. He’s standing outside my prison cell having the time of his life seeing me at my lowest.
Fucking sonofabitch, I want to rip his spine out. Our pack was a family, a home… Now, it’s as broken as the rest of the world.
I wipe my bloody mouth with the back of my hand, sitting upright and slumping against the back wall of my cell, bruised and strained from the beatings. But Mad needs me alive and I can play this long term. My healing will thread me back together soon enough. Even if the frigid chill from the constant rain all night and day licks over my bones, and my sides burn from the kicks I received.
“Tell me,” I start, my voice croaky, and I spit more blood onto the floor. “Is this everything you’d hoped it’d be? You getting a big fat erection over claiming the pack and being the big chief? But we both know you’re still a coward.”Fightingfor dominance with honor is the way, not the trickery bullshit he’s pulled.
I am way past caring about not antagonizing Mad.
He snarls, the hatred palpable on his face, and I can’t help but smile.
“You’re living on borrowed time, brother. Make the most of it, because your wolf girl will be mine by the end of today. Then…” He shoves away from the wall and stands tall, running his hand through his white hair. “I will no longer have a need for you. No one will.” He strides toward the exit, but I’m not finished with him.
Mad’s a fool and lets his anger rule him.
“Word has it that the smaller rogue packs up north are uniting and have their eyes on this land.” I hate giving him any insight, except my intention is to make him realize the situation is much more than about him taking leadership or an antidote for the zombies. “You will have the X-Clan pack coming for revenge for stealing their serum, along with the northern barbarian pack. How many of the pack do you think will remain loyal by your side when your promise of freedom proves to be a hoax?”
He jerks his head to look at me over his shoulder with a wry expression.
I’ve touched a raw nerve and he knows it… Maybe he never thought this through, but that path he’s taking will be a wretched one.
“Is that your attempt to plead for your life? Ain’t working.”
I half-chuckle. “You think this has anything to do with me? Unlike you, I care for this pack’s members. They are my family, but to you, they are your servants.” I shrug, cutting a glance to the two guards listening in. They lower their heads and don’t meet my gaze. “Just pointing out a massive flaw in your plan.”
“This has nothing to do with you any longer, brother.” He growls. “You are my pawn until I get the girl. That’s all you are, and I don’t take advice from pawns.” A snarl hangs off his last word, and I smirk at the thought that I’ve pissed him off.
Good. Maybe my point will get through to try to save the pack from slaughter from the oncoming dangers. Except with my brother, nothing is predictable.
He charges out of the prison with the guards. I sigh and draw my bent knees to my chest, hugging my legs, wincing as the ache flares through me like someone is holding a flame to my insides.
I have every faith in the world that Bardhyl and Lucien will escape their capture. Seeing as they are not with me, I can only assume Mad has them in the other prison cells, which aren’t built as strong as this one.
Mad doesn’t really care about them… it’s me he wants to torture. Whether it’s sooner rather than later is another story. Yet Mad’s words swirl on my mind about him having Meira by the end of the day.
What does he have planned?
An urgent need grips me to break out and find her first. The desperation squeezes my lungs, hurting more than the strikes to my ribs.
I glance up at the door to the dungeon, the only way out of here. I’m too deep underground for a window escape, and I ease up to my feet. Every inch of me screams with pain. The guards left me alone down here with the other two empty cells and a rancid smell of wet earth, with the trickle of water coming through the walls from the wet ground outside. It’s been thundering endlessly since yesterday, and I grasp on to hope that this is not where it will end for me. I’ll fight to get out. Still, that thread of doubt lingers.
The main door to the dungeon room swings open, and I lift my gaze to the guards dragging someone unconscious by their arms. The man has pale blond hair, is built like a bull, and is wearing black jeans and a fitted leather jacket. They toss him into the farthest cell from me. My first thoughts leap to Bardhyl, except this man has short hair, and it has been a long time since I have seen anyone wear a leather jacket. Mostly because they’re hard to come by.
Slamming the cell door, the guards march out, and I turn my attention to the newcomer. He lies on his side, curled, unmoving.
“Hey,” I call out, but he gives no response. He’s been knocked out.
Taking a deep inhale, I sniff the guy’s scent to place him.
