Page 139 of Unhinged Alphas

"Looks like the feral omega's awake," a male voice says, dripping with amusement. "Think the monster will react to her scent?"

“Just kill it if it reacts too much.”

Laughter.

I grit my teeth, fury burning through the lingering haze of sedatives. The rage is a welcomewarmth, chasing away some of the bone-deep cold. I force my eyes open wider. The flashing light from some kind of security system illuminates restraints and hooks hanging from the walls before casting them back into shadow. My stomach churns at the strobing effect, bile rising in my throat. I swallow it back down.

I refuse to show any more weakness.

The floor beneath me is wet, so cold, it burns wherever it touches my skin. Condensation beads on the metal, turning it into a slick, treacherous surface. I look down at myself and realize they've stripped me of my clothes, leaving me in nothing but a thin hospital gown that might as well be tissue paper. The fabric clings to my skin, damp and clammy.

My teeth chatter violently as I curl into myself, desperate for any scrap of warmth. But there's none to be found. The air itself feels like ice, seeping into my bones. My breath comes out in visible puffs, and I wonder if they're trying to freeze me to death.

Then something catches my eye. A large, dark shape chained to the far wall. I squint, trying to make it out through my blurry vision, but it's too far away and the red light strobing off and on doesn'thelp. The shape seems to shift with each flash, like some kind of nightmarish optical illusion.

All I can tell is that it's big. Massive, even. The chains holding it look thick enough to anchor a ship. I strain my eyes, trying to make out details, but it's impossible in this hellish red light.

"Should we make her take a closer look?" a voice says from behind me, chuckling with condescending amusement.

"Wait," another voice cuts in. "What if the asset breaks free?"

More laughter. "You're joking, right? Those chains could hold back a freight train. Even if it wants to go after her, it can't break free."

"Spray her."

I freeze, memories of being hosed down like an animal until my skin was raw flashing through my mind.

"She's an omega. We can't just?—"

"Who cares? She's feral."

"Still, they're important. We can't just?—"

A blast of icy water hits me square in the chest from out of nowhere. The shock of it steals my breath away, leaving me gasping and sputtering. It's so cold it burns, like thousands of tiny needles stabbing into my skin.

I curl into myself, trying to escape the relentless spray. But there's nowhere to go. The water soaks through the thin gown, plastering it to my skin. My teeth chatter so hard I'm afraid they might crack.

"Like a drowned rat," one of them laughs.

The water stops as suddenly as it started, leaving me shivering violently on the floor. I cough, spitting out water that tastes of chemicals and metal.

"Aw, is the little omega cold?" the first voice taunts. "Maybe you should get closer to that monster over there. I'm sure it could warm you up real quick."

What monster? The figure chained to the wall?

I don't have time to process that before another blast of water hits me, this time from behind. The force of it sends me skidding across the floor, closer to the chained shape. I dig my fingers into the rough floor, trying to stop myself, but it's useless. I slide until I hit the wall with a dull thud that knocks the air from my lungs, my palms and knees raw and bleeding.

"That's enough," a new voice cuts in.

"Lame," the first voice grumbles. But the water stops, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing and chattering teeth.

I push myself up onto my hands and knees, arms shaking with the effort. Water drips from my hair, running in icy rivulets down my face and neck. The gown clings to me like a second skin, offering no protection against the frigid air.

A low rumbling growl comes from above me, and I freeze. Slowly, I lift my head, following the sound to the figure chained to the wall. I'm close enough I could reach out and touch it now, but my foggy brain struggles to make sense of what I'm seeing. The red light plays tricks on my eyes, casting strange shadows that make it hard to distinguish any features.

But it's warm. Even from here, I can sense the heat radiating off it.

Before I can think better of it, I start crawling toward it, the rough floor scraping my already raw knees. My movements are clumsy, uncoordinated. Every inch is a battle against my own unresponsive limbs. But the promise of warmth drives me forward.