Chapter 40: Chapter 40: Stop

I hate being stuck in human form and completely powerless to even get out of this dumb glass.

Everything in here is bolted down, probably because they don't want prisoners throwing things at

the window, and I am not about to kill myself by hurtling my own body through it to see if it breaks.

Without being able to turn, I would probably bleed to death, being that unlucky girl who brought

down a shard over my neck or something, and still be stuck down here. A shriveled empty corpse to

stink the place up.

That jerk didn't even let me eat like he said and my stomach growls angrily at the lack of having

food since god knows when. I don't even know what time it is, morning or night, or how long I was

sedated in that room considering there are no windows underground. I last ate in the day before

sleeping in that damn tree, where all my possessions are, and I'm starving. It's no wonder I feel weak

and shaky. I'm running on empty.

It's weird but maybe it's my years of being bossed around, held captive in a less than caring home,

and treated like a reject at the hands of my so-called pack, but I'm not even afraid anymore. Being

here held captive, I know that the worst will come with Juan, but even then, what's he going to do

to me? He can't kill me or inflict too much pain, because his son will bear the brunt, and lord knows

his legacy is always at the center of everything. He could do what he’s done to Sierra, I guess, but

it's not like she seems aware of anything and maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. No longer tied to

Colton, carrying this burden of heartache while he lives his life with that “skanky Puta’, maybe a long

sleep will be better than stuck in a glass box for a lifetime.

I abandon the glass and get up to walk across the cold concrete floor on shaking legs. I need to lay

down and finally get rid of the rest of this drug in my blood, so I can at least walk around normally

and not feel like I'm on new-born legs. Maybe I'll feel better if I take some time to let it work out

and sleep off the rest of it. My body is shaking internally, and I keep having minor bouts of dizziness

which remind me I'm in no state to take on the likes of Deacon if I ever get a chance. My first goal

before I leave this place, is to knee him in the balls, for shooting me in the back like a coward.

I don't get to the bed before the noise of the elevator whooshing open sways this way and I

instantly stiffen, expecting Deacon to come back and grace me with his toxic personality and

mentally try to figure out the likelihood of being able to kick him between the legs for the sake of it.

I climb on the bed, turn around and sit with my legs dangling off the edge in readiness to give him

more attitude and lure him inside to my perfect level of height, as I hear footsteps, and a lot of

squeaking noises of wheels rolling across the hard floor, coming my way.

It's not Deacon, it's the doctor, and a female in a white lab coat too, and I frown as he appears in

front of the glass door pulling the food cart and carrying a bag in his other hand, while she pushes

another behind him. He waves at me before accessing the door and slides it open with a smile.

"My dear, we never fed you, and I couldn't let you go hungry down here in this inhospitable

nightmare of a place. I brought you some clothes. They're nothing fancy, just the smallest size from

the supply closet that I could find and a fetching shade of military grey.” He pushes the trolley

inside, the sudden smell of food filling the air, and my mouth starts to water with the reminder I'm

near famished. He drops the bag just inside the door but hesitates about coming in, and I sit here

waiting patiently. His female companion stays back, arranging some medial implements on a tray on

top of her own trolley and avoids looking my way completely. She's young, maybe early twenties,

and looks very white girl, medical student, human. Blonde, blue eyed, so definitely not a Santo.

“Thank you.” It's a genuine response because this gown is not exactly great at hiding things, or

offering comfort, and maybe eating will help straighten me out a little. In human form I'm suffering

from the effects of not eating and probably have a low blood sugar to boot. The female seems

interested in me but keeps her distance, and it's not hard to tell that my kind make her nervous. She

pushes the trolley to near him and then turns and walks away without a word.

“It's nothing too adventurous, just a chicken salad and bread. The cook is normally quite wonderful

with our hot foods, but you were an in between meal visitor. It won't be long before lunch is served

and it'll be something hot, like it always is. I believe today is carrot and coriander soup, followed by

a delightful steak tartar. Fabulous talented chef and we are most grateful to have one here.” Despite

his overly friendly chatter and enthusiasm over food, he seems awkward now that we are down here

and I catch him throw a glance over his shoulder at our sleeping beauty, watching our departed

medical student walk into her room and check on the equipment and levels. The door closing

behind her quickly and dampening the noise back to a low hum that intensified when she opened it.

I catch the doctor pause for a second longer, before a slight sag gives away a little tell.

“You knew her?” I ask brazenly, seeing a sadness as he turns back to me and a fake smile pops up to

hide his obvious reaction. His expression clouding over a little and despite my senses not being on

form, I can almost taste the change in his mood. He looks at me oddly, eyes narrowing, and it's as

though he goes to say something then stops and falters, his mouth opening with no sound before

he draws back, looks around once more and leans in a little, lowering his tone. Only too aware of

the female across the way.

"She was my friend. This was her project... long before the war. The hybrid research.... the learning

about the rare wolves no one talks about. I never imagined she would end up being one of its

inhabitants.” His face reddens and he shakes his head as though he can't quite believe he told me

this. Mentally shaking himself, but I'm not going to let an opportunity pass me by, and I have to

show he can trust me.

"He just left her here to rot. Juan, I mean... because she got sick?” I ask innocently, fully aware that

upstairs he said there was nothing wrong with her mind at all, but I need to gently draw him into

this. I need to win him over slowly.

"Sick! Hah...... Her mate has no interest in my research, but we serve a purpose that he needs

fulfilled. Keeping her alive and....... Quiet. If that is the sickness to which you refer. So, he pays the

facility bills, funds my grants, and leaves us to do whatever as long as she exists here, and we don't

ask questions anymore.” His low hushed voice signals that maybe he doesn’t quite trust either the

female across the way, or maybe there are camera's down here. I sit up a little, pushing my hands

under the edges of my legs and change tactic. A common ground to show him I'm definitely not

about to run to Juan.

“I knew her too... and her son.... I know him. Colton.” I don't know why I hesitate to call him my

fated mate, but the piercing sharp stab to my heart before the word comes out stops me. Maybe

because all I can think of when he comes to the forefront, is that he has betrayed me and marked

that bitch and is now her mate. I can't bear to say the word out loud. I swallow it down, the bitter

taste almost making me gag.

"Ahhh, yes, little Colton, such a blessed boy. So many years since I laid eyes on that beautiful child.

She was so very proud to bear a son you know. Always wanted a child of her own, and the fates

blessed her finally, with that little bundle of cheekiness, while providing Juan the heir he was

pressing for. His future legacy. He was such a little rebel as a pup, always climbing, and running

around when I visited the manor. I can’t imagine what her being taken did to him. He loved her so

very much.” The faraway look, the distance as he locks onto a memory, and I slide down from the

bed, motioning to the food tray so as not to make him think I'm coming at him, but I want to be

closer so he feels more able to talk freely in a hushed tone. I want to lull him into a sense of security

and kill him with kindness.

"She struggled to conceive him?” I ask innocently, trying to direct the conversation and keep him

engaged in what he assumes is neutral, get him talking. If I'm going to win him over to my side, I

have to make him feel he can talk to me and not like I'm prying too much for answers to Sierra's

current predicament. 'You move around the prey to suss out the best angles and lull it into a sense

of calm before you pounce on it"... is something my grandfather always used to say. I'm curious

though, that a wolf would have issues with fertility, as it's not really something we suffer with. We're

physically perfect... fertility is a given when the fates decide it's your time to pup.

“Curse of some hybrids I'm afraid. It's that when they mate with a pureblood, sometimes the pure

genetics destroys the hybrid cells and the child becomes non-viable. In vitro cell death. It's been so

hard to reproduce with your kind, because like I said, imperfections are destroyed by your own

DNA. An invasion of another species in the makeup is exactly like a virus in your body, it has itself a

little war of its own and diminishes the fertile egg. Fascinating, yet heart-breaking, especially for her.

Colton was her seventh and I think had he died it would have finally broken her. Such a special boy.”

I know he’s said it twice now, but he can't be right, about the hybrid thing at all. I mean, my mother

had two planned pups and she never mentioned issues in pregnancy or carrying us, so neither of

my parents could have been hybrids. Which means I'm definitely not. And then there's the matter of

Sierra... she was wolf. And especially not where Juan is concerned, he’s not. That's a whole other

thing.

“She can't be a hybrid. That makes no sense at all... Juan Santo is a pureblood who wouldn't’

tolerate that kind of union. His son's a pureblood, it's all he ever goes on about.” Rolling my eyes

without meaning to, a little anger spiking through as memory replays on the whole superior lording

over the mountain bullshit. Juan's constant lord and king kick and preaching to the packs for

decades about his families traced pure line of genetics. The Santos pride themselves on being from

the strongest lineage of wolves. He would never willingly take on a mate who was anything less, I

mean look at his reaction to my being fated to Colton. That says it alll!

The doctor looks behind him, checking his assistant is engrossed in dealing with the machines

before stepping inside my room, so the door slides closes behind him, lowering his tone once more.

“My dear, I fear I have said too much and inadvertently made your hope of release a less plausible

outcome. You must forget what I said, especially about Luna Santo. It's in your best interest that we

never had this conversation, and you do not repeat to anyone that we did.” There's serious concern

etched into his face that deepens the lines around his eyes and he locks a direct gaze right on my

eyes, a hint of warning in his tone. He's closing down our line of communication because he thinks

what he’s telling me puts me in danger. A hint that I was right about his character and him being

the soft link in this facility. He's a decent man who cares, and I need to show him that I'm already

screwed, so he doesn't lock me out.

“I imprinted on Colton and Juan forbade it... We're fated, but he forced him to mark another for the

sake of the pack. I'm not getting set free... I'm probably going to end up like her, or worse. I'm a

reject of the pack, a diluted bloodline who brings shame to his people, and the only reason he's

coming here is to be done with me once and for all....... nothing you say makes a difference to what

he’s going to do to me. I'm not getting out.” It's a harsh hurried whisper, and I fall silent as I catch a

glimpse over his shoulder of his assistant coming out of Sierra’s room. Nodding her way to alert

him, but he seems completely dazed. Stiff and still and staring at me intensely.

“I'm done, I'll go up to the lab and run the new bloods we were sent from the south, Doctor.” She

calls to him from the hallway across the bay and without looking back at her he waves a hand

dismissively, eyes locked on me in the most alarming way. She takes that as an answer, nods, and

walks off towards the elevator briskly to head back upstairs. The air in this room suddenly heavy

with tension.

“Imprinted? By the fates? As in that rare form of bonding two souls so they become insanely lust

and love driven to be forever together? I didn't think any alpha had the authority to undermine that.

It means you're linked to .... Sierras bloodline?" His skin tone seems to pale noticeably, and his eyes

darken weirdly. His mind clearly racing over a million thoughts and his forehead wrinkles deepen as

his frown does. An air of mild nervousness kicking up around him.

"Yeah, well, Juan doesn't give a rat's ass about anything except his own authority, and Colton, he's

so stuck in his shadow that he chose to let me go instead of honoring the bond. So I left, didn't look

back and something brought me here instead. This wasn't a chance find.... This facility. Dreaming of

her almost every night, and something pulled me here. I'd headed south, but something made me

change and come east from my path... Sierra's voice calling or some stupid memory of a dream that

wouldn't leave me alone.” I offload on him, now I know his companion is in the elevator and it feels

good to finally say it to someone, rather than be all caught up in my own head. A gush of chatter

that I've been turning over for days.

"Stop. Don't.” The doctor waves his hand at me, snapping me back to attention, and the wild-eyed

terrified look on his face as though I just told him I have a bomb under my ass. He turns abruptly,

panic slamming the card against the wall panel to slide open the door, lacking graceful

coordination, and steps out of the doorway fully, shaking his hands and head and I follow, unsure

why he’s recoiling. His whole-body trembling as he oozes a crazy amount of fear. I can taste it.0