Page 21 of Unhinged Alphas

For now.

We both know it's only a matter of time before one of us cracks that fragile veneer of civility. Plague can play the part of the unflappable soldier all he wants, but I can spot the fissures in his figurative mask that allow glimpses of the darkness lurking beneath. He's not as pure and wholesome as he likes to pretend. As he wishes he could be.

He's one of us, through and through.

A monster, same as the rest.

He just hasn't fully accepted it yet.

We've been walking for what feels like hours when I finally spot a cluster of battered metal plates jutting up from the scorched earth, forming a crude sort of hatch. My gaze sharpens, scanning the area for any other signs of the entrance as a slow grin spreads across my face.

"There," I say, nudging Plague's arm to draw his attention. "Told you I knew where I was going."

He follows my gaze, his expression inscrutable behind his scars. For a long moment, he's silent, studying the battered hatch with a critical eye. Probably calculating the odds he'll get tetanus from touching it. Then, finally, he gives a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"Lead the way," he grumbles, his voice flat and emotionless.

I don't need to be told twice.

With a lazy swagger to my step, I grab the rusted out handle that's barely hanging on by a few loose screws and yank it open, the sand and dirt pouring in waterfalls into the black void below. There's a the rust-pitted ladder leading down into the shadows, the faint whir of ventilation fans struggling to cycle fresh air. Judging from the musty stench that wafts up to us, they're doing a piss-poor job.

It's been too long since I've walked these particularshadows, since I've immersed myself in the underbelly of the Outer Reaches and all its delicious depravities.

"Keep close, princess," I toss over my shoulder, unable to resist one last jab before we descend the rickety ladder. "This place is rough for delicate little creatures like you."

Plague doesn't rise to the bait, doesn't even acknowledge my taunt beyond a rumbling growl in his chest. Smart man. He'll need to keep that temper on a tight leash if he wants to survive down here.

With a feral grin, I swing myself over the edge and begin the descent into darkness.

The air grows thick and stale the deeper we tread, the faint whir of the ventilation systems doing little to cycle out the oppressive miasma of sweat, smoke, and desperation that clings to these shadows. I inhale deeply, savoring the familiar reek like a long-lost lover's embrace.

We're inmyworld now.

This grim and gritty underbelly has always made me feel most at home. No pretty lies or hollow posturing down here, just the raw, naked truth of survival at any cost. It's primal, visceral. Everything stripped back to its basest elements.

Life.

Death.

Pleasure.

Pain.

All commodities to be bought, sold, and indulged in without shame or remorse. And I can't wait to get another taste.

My lips curve into a wolfish grin as my boots finally hit solid ground, the metal grating sending juddering vibrations up my calves. Beside me, Plague lands with a muted thud, straightening to his full height as he takes in our new surroundings.

Even with his face half-concealed, I can read the tension in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch ever-so-slightly toward the array of sheathed blades hidden at his sides. He's ill at ease here, a wolf among jackals.

"Charming place," he mutters, his distaste obvious even through the muffling of his scarf. He could take it off, but he's probably afraid he'll pass out from the stench of sin. "I can see whyyou'reso comfortable here."

I bark out a harsh laugh, already moving ahead into the dingy corridors that branch off from the entrance chamber. "What's the matter? Places like this make you squeamish?"

"Hardly," he bites out, only to leap back like he'sbeen shot when a fat, squeaking rat squeezes out of a pipe an inch from his boots and darts across his path. He quickly falls into step beside me with that same coiled menace radiating from him in waves. "Just trying to decide if I should be more disgusted by the stench or the company."

I grin, flashing him a mocking look over my shoulder. "Plenty of time for both, I'm sure."

The tunnels are dim and cramped, a dizzying labyrinth of twists and turns that would be impossible to navigate without a lifetime of experience. Flickering industrial lights strung overhead cast everything in a sickly yellow pall, deepening the shadows that seem to press in on us from all sides.