AllFreeNovel
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I feel like a little kid who’d happily hop in the creeper van for the promise of candy.
Except the candy is dick, and I fucking pray the Wyverns aren’t behind the wheel, because if this is how I react to randos, I don’t know how I can keep myself away from them.
I scurry across the lobby before I can act on the bad decisions my instincts are already co-signing.
A convoy of black SUVs waits in front of the clinic. Evgenia and I hop in, and I don’t realize how loudly my heart is pounding until a beta slams the door, and the frantic thrum-thrum-thrum is the only sound filling the back seat.
When the car starts, I remember the last time I was behind the wheel, and my head spins in a dizzy wave of dread.
Screaming metal.
Blood and shattered glass.
“Lilah?” Evgenia’s voice cuts through the flashback. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.” I hug my arms to ribs, sucking in my crazy, just breathing until I don’t feel like I’m spinning out. Evgenia’s perfume—the bottled kind—blots over her beta scent, and the familiar floral grounds me back to reality.
I take a few deep breaths.
What happened, happened.
I saved myself then, and I’ll save myself now.
Not sure I’ll ever drive again, but I can handle being a passenger for the quick ride to the OCC.
When we roll up to the iron-tipped gates, I can’t decide if I should celebrate or scream.
I never wanted to come back.
I wanted to disappear.
But now that I can’t go five minutes without some kind of freak-out, I know this is where I need to be. Away from the kidnapping attempts, recent nightmares, and alphas that hack my reproductive system.
With enough guards for a parade and drones zooming over the high-fenced perimeter, OCC security is much thicker than before.
Thiccer too.
Tons of towering alphas patrol the outer grounds, and my newly awakened self has a brand-new appreciation for a thicc set of thighs.
Our convoy pulls around the fountain in front of the admin building. I hop out as soon as the car stops, wanting to get to my room or any room that I can make my own space. Somewhere dark and safe, where I can lock the door and be alone without nurses checking in, alphas staring at my throat, or random staff members drugging my dinner.
I just want to stop feeling like I’m under attack.
I can taste the sweet, sweet solitude when tires screech down the drive.
Guards stomp into motion, shielding me from the attack. I’m about to snatch one of their guns and take cover under the SUV.
Then I feel them.
That tug in my gut.
It’s like I was drifting without strings, but now that Wyvern Pack is finally here, all my cut pieces strain to reconnect.
It’s the best feeling.
It’s the worst feeling.
Because I’m not a fucking puppet.
