I’d never been in one of these cells before, but I’d seen them.
Large concrete rooms made for alphas who’d caused trouble while being arrested. The only way to get this cuff off was to have them unlock it.
Considering I’d had to have at least two tranquilizer darts shot at me to get me here, I doubted they were freeing me anytime soon. I hadn’t technically been feral, but Conrad…
I glanced around the room. My packmate had his own metal bracelet attached to the wall across from me. He was still unconscious—made sense, considering they’d shot four darts at him. He’d needed the extra dose both for his extra size and because of the drug running through his system driving him feral.
He was still wearing his hospital gown, but fortunately for his dignity our jailers had draped a worn, grey blanket over his bottom half.
We weren’t the only alphas in this large concrete room, either. It was full, every cuff along the wall used. Six alphas in here at once. The pheromones were strong enough for my nose to wrinkle when I’d registered the smells surrounding me.
Slumping back against the wall, I checked my pockets with my free hand. Nothing in them. It was wishful thinking to hope they might have left me with my phone.
I couldn’t contact Talia or West.
Not until the police came to give me my damn phone call, and I was pretty sure that would take a while. I was the only one who was conscious in here, far as I could tell.
Was Talia alright?
She’d been in the early stages of heat when she’d run from the room. Surely the hospital staff had helped find her a secure room to ride it out. It would be irresponsible to send her home in that state.
But then again… had she even stopped to talk to them? She might not have had enough of her senses left to do that, and if she’d wandered outside on her own…
I rumbled out a growl.
If anyone touched her, I’d make sure they lost both their fucking hands.
“Quiet in there!” a man commanded over a tinny intercom.
So they were listening, even though no guards were in the room with us. I couldn’t blame them for keeping the staff safely out of reach from the feral alphas.
“I want my phone call,” I said, looking up at one of the cameras. “I’m not feral. Let me have my call.”
There was no response for one long minute. Then, the man again. “You don’t get a call. Someone is here to pick you up.”
Fuck. Who?
Getting picked up from jail couldn’t be good after everything that went down with Grave. Although, even he didn’t have the power to just pick us up from here. I couldn’t imagine what bail they wanted for a near-feral alpha who came into Villem Central with an unexplained gunshot wound.
I couldn’t ask who because I didn’t want them to think I was clueless.
“Fine,” I muttered.
As I waited for the promised pickup, I watched Conrad intently. He was snoring softly, his eyes closed with dark circles beneath them. He was slumped over almost bonelessly, attached to the wall by that one cuff.
Is he still going to be feral when he wakes up? Or will the drug be worn off by then?
He better be back to normal so I could be mad at him for what he almost did to Talia.
I ground my teeth together, worried once again about my omega. I needed to know where she was and that she was safe for her heat, but depending on who was here to bail me out, I may never get the chance to learn that.
I might die first.
The single metal door to the expansive jail cell creaked open, two uniformed guards slipping through first. Behind them, a woman followed with a man in a suit. The guards walked down the centre of the room, poking every prisoner to check if they were conscious, and then the woman followed behind, high heels clicking against the concrete floor.
She stopped in front of me.
She had a stern set to her face, her lips set in a thin line. Her outfit was in pristine condition, a tan pantsuit fit for a CEO’s office, and her light brown hair was tied back into a slick bun.
