Freed and Filled

Chapter 4 - Jokur

Such softness doesn't belong in the pits of hell, yet here she is, pliant in my arms and sweet under my tongue. I lick her warm flesh again and tighten my jaw.

My chest spasms around my purr and agony wipes away the haze of drugs.

She doesn't lie trustingly in my arms. She's rigid with terror and grappling to free her throat from my grip.

Mine.

Her delicious scent begs me to mark her. Knot her. Claim her.

Heavy warmth sinks into my right arm. I fight against the wash of drugs, reaching across myself and tearing out the catheter. Pain batters my chest. A ton of bricks falls on my sternum, superseding the delicious friction caused by the curvy omega.

White gloves pry my fingers off her neck and two puny human males dressed in hazmat suits yank her away.

Fury snaps through me and adrenaline swells every cell in my body, giving me extra strength. I reach for her.

Gravity drops me back to the mattress. A crazed roar rattles the walls.

I meet pale green orbs as darkness pulls me toward an endless abyss.

I've found my lifemate.

On the brink of death and at the height of misery, I've found the one omega who could complete me. The female who could reach beyond my layers and find the true me. The woman who could clear the bullshit and fulfill my deepest, darkest desires.

Except I fucked it up before I even opened my mouth. Nothing but terror shines from her eyes as my lids slip between us.

Superimposed on the back of my eyelids, the vision of her standing between two ISC Enforcers with a bruise purpling her throat and her flesh so pale her freckles look like blotches of ink over her skin. I berate myself for being such an idiot.

She can't be mine.

Not here. Not like this.

Not battered and abused. Not as prisoners of the worst people alive.

Not yet.

Even through the burden of sedatives, I firm my resolve.

She will never hurt because of me again. I will win her trust, love, and devotion, no matter what it takes. No amount of time or torture will sway me.

I let go, relaxing into the muddled world of drugs, compelling my body to take the rest it needs to heal.

I have a mission to fulfill. Somehow, I'll win her heart and escape this purgatory.

Time hastens and stalls. Lights flicker, but my lids refuse to lift. Awareness seeps back into my brain, and I curse myself as I remember my failed attempt at distraction. Blue sky and red rocks blip through my memory.

My teammates will search for me. The entire Fleet will try to rescue me, but my heart gives a prolonged squeeze as I consider the alphas I left behind.

I said goodbye to them. Some part of me knew this would happen.

So why do my instincts insist no one knew my omega would be at my bedside? Unless they truly thought me close to death—which I probably was, if my exhaustion is any sign—or they wanted me to mark her, I can't fathom a reason for them to plan for us to meet in such a manner.

An electronic beeping pulls me from the worst of my drug induced sleep. I open my eyes and freeze.

It isn't her, but my lifemate leans over me with a hesitant smile on her lips. When she pulls the sides of her collar together and glances down my body, I note the lack of bruising on her throat and force myself to remain still. The slightest shift reveals a glimmer along her outline.

Weight presses down on my forehead when I crinkle my brow, the virtual reality mask not fitting correctly since it was built for humans.

She reaches to put her palm on my chest.

"No," I snarl.

Her features scrunch in confusion.

I stare at not her in defiance.

Two figures solidify behind her. I stomp on the rage forming behind my mending breastbone and keep a stony expression on my face when a white glove wraps around her throat from behind.

"We're going to hurt her, and there's nothing you can do about it," the Enforcer on the left says.

I use the slight, tinny sound of his voice to ground me and smirk until the mask digs into my cheeks.

"Sure there is. Go ahead, try me."

Not-her eyes bug as the second Enforcer rips her fake shirt down the front.

"Nah, mate, you messed up already. You gotta build tension first. You know, whisper threats in her ear. Nip her nape. Slap her titties a few times."

The vision blurs and I hiss as someone rips the mask off my head, taking a few hairs with it. Several seconds of silence pass as whoever leans over me allows my eyes time to adjust to the light.

With the overhead bulb backlighting them, I can't make out their features, but the shape of their head and shoulders leads me to believe it's a human male.

He cocks his head before stepping out of my line of sight.

"Prep him," says the faceless man as his heels tap against the floor. I cock a brow as two beta females approach me, one on either side. They slap electrodes up and down my body, from my temples to my thighs. Apprehension threatens to bunch my muscles, but I loll my head on my neck and scoff.

"You might want two on each of my thighs. Packs a better punch, if you get my meaning," I croak through a dry throat before winking at the stoic woman to my right. She doesn't respond, finishing her task and disappearing out of the cone of light.

I sigh and straighten my neck after a few more uneventful seconds pass.

The same male steps forward again, using the light to shield his features.

"From this point forward, you will answer to Subject 918 and nothing else. Do you understand?"

I sigh despite the pain in my chest.

"You're doing it wrong again. You gotta rough me up a bit first, threaten to cut off a few fingers, play with my emotions. You know, mindfuck me. Then demand I change my name," I say, licking my muzzle as though bored. The movement cleans away the last of her taste, which fans the coals of fury smoldering within my veins.

I bank it with wariness, straining my senses to the room beyond the cone of light.

A current of electricity seizes my major muscle groups. My heart struggles to recover.

"From now on, you will respond to all commands with 'Yes, Director'. Do you understand?" My torturer intones with a semi-decent pass at nonchalance.

I gulp down frigid oxygen, the organs in my chest weaker than I care to admit.

"What, master wasn't kinky enough for you? You had to go and get all creative? What if I forge—" A stronger blast of electricity steals the words from my mouth and the breath from my lungs. I blip between awake and unconsciousness as my heart refuses to beat.

They shock me again. I suck down a noisy breath and release an unhinged laugh.

"Ah, finally, the good stuff," I wheeze.

Impatient hands shove the mask over my face. Electricity locks me from the tip of my ears to my paw pads, curling my toes and bowing my back.

This can't be the same mask. It's too clear. Too deceitful.

My omega beckons me to her.

I offer her a lopsided grin.

My tormentors play a good game.

I play better.