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With a surge of inhuman strength, Daxen rips out of his hold. He makes it halfway across the cell before the other two males restrain him.

I cover my mouth with shaking hands. The primal part of my brain urges me to stay silent and I comply.

“She’s gloating.” He whips accusing finger toward me. “Fucking gloating about his gunshot wound. Let me fucking go, Vaelenor. Let me go!”

Vaelenor.

The other Alpha restraining Daxen comes into focus. Even through my terror, my breath catches.

He’s… breathtaking.

His beauty is such a striking contrast to the brutality of the moment that my fear-addled brain refuses to accept it.

Once more I’m suddenly yanked from my body. An outsider watching the chaos and carnage around me. This Alpha—Vaelenor—is oddly, inhumanly beautiful. Auburn hair, summer-sky eyes, a face so immaculate in its perfection that the child in me is convinced he’s a storybook prince come to life.

No. Not a prince. A divinity. A king made of starlight and sin. Meant for rescuing princesses and ruling over kingdoms. Over worlds. Not strong-arming monsters in dark, damp cells.

“Nope,” the beautiful male says in a voice like summer sun. “I think we’re going to skip the homicide. Don’t want her to end up a chalk outline on the floor. Mostly because that’s creepy and we’ll never be able to reuse this cell.”

He wraps another arm around Daxen’s neck and hauls him into the hallway. There, he continues to speak in a soft, calm voice.

“Just chill, brother. We’ll get revenge. We’re going to make sure she⁠—”

The rest is cut off by the metal door slamming shut. The sound’s like a thunderclap, reverberating through my bones.

As though all the oxygen’s been sucked from the room, my conscious slams back into my body.

It’s jarring. My senses come back online all at once, light and noise and fear crashing together and drowning me in an ocean of despair.

It’s too much. Too fast.

I take three deep breaths, lean to the side, and throw up. Bile splatters the floor. There’s nothing else in my stomach.

I place a shaking hand on the floor and push away from the mess. My vision’s still unfocused, but I don’t look away from the cold stone. I can’t.

I can’t think. Can’t speak. Can’t wrap my mind around what just happened.

I’m no stranger to violence. Some days, my entire world narrows to the space between beatings. For years, my reality’s been measured in pain.

But that⁠—

That was something else.

My chest is hollow. Devoid of everything but the dim pulsing of my Mate Bond and the tiny flame that’s somehow still flickering.

My previous assessment was correct.

There’s no room for understanding here.

These males—this place—it’s a prison. And I’m their captive. They decided my guilt long ago. Probably before they knew who I was.

And Fates… I’m so tired of fighting.

I’m so, so tired.

“That was… interesting.”

Gods, the Doctor is still here. Can’t they all just leave me alone? I just want to collapse on this hard concrete floor, find my Bond, and forget everything else.