Blind Alpha: A Dark Fantasy Read online

  I cast Landon one last glance before he takes off in a full sprint, heading straight for the oncoming pack.

  When Trent reported the attack, the Cossitt Pack was twenty minutes away. By now, they’re only five. We met them full force in less than two.

  The battle was ugly.

  I have never seen so much blood, so much loss, and suffering. Trent is correct. The Cossitt Pack revels in the pain of their opponent. It is sick but true.

  The Rose Pack and Prowler Pack sweep in as reinforcements. They are much needed. Our numbers are dwindling.

  In the midst of all the fighting, I lose sight of Landon. I grow worried, not being able to link with him. I convince myself that he is too focused in a fight to connect with me. I have to believe that if I want to live through this.

  As the outcome shifts into our favor, I start to see the Cossitt Pack retreat. But that isn’t their code. They fight until the last person is standing. I begin to panic as I know they have what they came for. Trent and Jesse… But they also want me. I look around the battlefield, feeling my heart race as I can’t find Landon.

  Mason. Mason? I call for my Beta. There is no reply, and I sprint after the retreating wolves.

  Lana! Jenny calls after me. She follows right behind me. I spin around to face her, snarling.

  Go home. If Mason didn’t make it, I appoint the pack to you. Now, go. That’s an order. I ignore all the Luna instincts I have, telling me to go back and care for my pack.

  I run in the direction of my old home. I promised myself I would never return.

  Halfway there, I am trampled to the ground by a Cossitt wolf. I look up at him, snarling. However, he shifts back into human form and pulls back his fist, delivering me a hard blow to the head, knocking me out.

  ***

  My hands are chained behind my back, pressed up against a hard, cold surface. My neck is stiff, and my eyes are heavy. I groan, trying to lift my head to see where I am. However, I know exactly where.

  The Cossitt prison.

  I feel a presence with me. Despite the screaming pain, I lift my head and open my eyes. It takes me a moment to get used to the darkness. When I do, I see Landon lying on the ground across the cell, chained up just as I am. He has been tortured.

  His hand is bloodied and broken in many places. I notice a few out of place ribs. His back is gushing blood from fresh whip wounds. I let out a sob. “Landon,” I call out, begging for him to be alive. My voice is weak, barely heard.

  I watch, waiting for him to respond. But he doesn’t. He just lies there, motionless. I feel my heart race as thoughts of the impossible run through my mind. No. He can’t be dead! I let out a scream, thrashing against the chains.

  “Castor! Castor! I swear, if you kill him, I will murder you!” I yell through the prison. I am answered with silence.

  I hang my head, sobbing as I feel all reason to live fade. Landon is my rock, my sole purpose. Without him, everything will be without color. The sky will be gray, and the sweetest of food will be tasteless.

  “Hmm-umm.” I hear a mumble. I lift my head to see Landon shift his head.

  “Landon? Baby?” I call out. I watch as he lifts himself up, settling on his knees. He lifts his head, looking over at me.

  “Lana,” he whispers. I let out a sigh of joy at the sound of his voice.

  He’s alive. He’s going to be okay. I’ll get us out of here.

  I glance around the cell we are in. All the walls are made of concrete. However, the one furthest away is adorned with a steel door. I try to think of a way to escape. We are underground… The facility is heavily guarded.

  I remember walking past the prison when I used to live within the Cossitt Pack. The building is made of brick with bars on the prison cells that has windows. There is a separate entrance, apart from the main, that leads down to confinement. That is where we currently are. There are two guards placed at every holding cell and a patrol that walks around the prison constantly.

  Escaping is practically impossible.

  “Baby, you’re okay,” Landon says. “I thought you were dead.” I feel tears roll down my cheeks.

  “What did they do to you?” I ask, moving as close to him as I could. He shifts closer too. We are barely a foot from each other, and I want to scream in frustration.

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re alive,” he says.

  His eyes remain fogged. His wolf is so weak that he can’t call upon him. I am glad. I don’t want him to see me like this.

  “Is it just us?” I ask him.

  “They took Trent and Jesse to another cell.”

  “Not Mason?” I ask.

  Landon doesn’t respond. I begin to cry. He’s dead. He never responded. He never reached out to me. If he isn’t here, then he has to be lying on the battlefield.

  I bring my knees to my chest and cry. “This is my fault. Castor only came because of Jesse and Trent. They left to see me.”

  “This isn’t your fault. You were right when you told Macklin that Castor craves power. He would have come anyway, Lana.” Landon tries to reassure me. Even if he was right, I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

  Our friend is dead. Who knows how many more are as well.

  The door opens, and the lights flicker on. I lift my head to see Castor walk in. He casts a look at Landon before he stalks over to me. I straighten my spine as he delivers a blow to my jaw. I spit out blood as Landon growls.

  “Leave her alone!”

  “Don’t,” I mutter to him, glaring up at Castor. Castor grits his teeth, reaching down to grab my chin.

  “All of this because of you. Why did you have to leave? Didn’t I make you happy?” His thumb runs over my lips. I feel my stomach churn with disgust. I want to bite off his thumb, but I know it would only result in harsher punishments.

  Castor squats in front of me, brushing a hand through my hair before he looks over at Landon and smiles. “I’m glad you’re awake. I wouldn’t want you to miss this.”

  Another man walks in and hands Castor a case. Castor sets it on the ground as the faceless man leaves, opening it to reveal a set of knives. I begin to panic, moving away from him.

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” Landon screams.

  Castor pulls out a small paring knife. He examines it, lifting it up so it is visible for me to see. I am glad Landon couldn’t see at this moment. Castor looks at Landon as he shoots his hand out, driving the knife deep into my stomach. I cough, spitting up blood. The knife is small, barely breaching the thick layer of muscle and fat. He drags the blade across the length of my stomach. I can no longer contain the bile as I puke out blood. I feel warmth run along my abdomen and down my apex and legs. I don’t have to look down to see that it’s my blood.

  “No! What are you doing to her? What are you doing, you sick monster?”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay, Landon,” I say through the blood and tears running down my cheeks.

  “I just killed your child, Landon,” Castor says. My eyes widen at his words. No… That can’t be possible. How could he possibly have known that if I didn’t?

  I watch as Landon’s shoulders sag with defeat. His head hangs as he lets out a sob. “No.”

  “Shh,” I whisper over to him. “It’s okay.” But I am crying just as hard as my wounded mate. I was pregnant with our child… Our Mae.

  But in an instant, a small motion with the knife, the baby has been killed, the small life inside of me.

  Oh, what have I done?

  Castor wipes off the blade, putting it back in his case. He gets to his feet and places his hand on my cheek. “You’re so beautiful. Think how beautiful our child will be.”

  “I swear if you lay a hand on her, I will murder you, you prick!” Landon shouts.

  “I’ll have the medic come in and sew you back up, love. When you are back to full health, I will rape you in front of your mate,” Castor promises. I fall back against the wall, letting out a sob as he walks out of the cell.

  “You will n
ot have her!” Landon screams.

  As I listen to my mate scream, I try to calm my breathing and clear my head. The pain in my abdomen is so fierce, and the ache in my heart is unbearable. My unborn child was just murdered.

  What have I done to deserve this?

  What has Landon done?

  “Shh. It’s okay,” I repeat over and over again to Landon who just yells threats at Castor. “It’s okay, Landon.”

  “It’s not okay.” Landon struggles against the chains. “How much pain are you in, baby? Transfer it to me,” he says. I close my eyes as fresh tears emerge.

  He’s willing to bear more pain even though he is on the verge of death himself. He definitely doesn’t deserve this.

  “You’re a good man, Landon. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you.”

  “No. Shut up. We both know you are too thick-headed to ever do as you’re told. Don’t waste your energy on regrets, my love. Now, lend me your sight. Let me see what he did to you,” Landon begs.

  I can’t let him do that. I am only able to go on knowing he can’t see what has happened and what will happen. I am glad his wolf is weak, as sadistic as that sounds.

  “I cannot do that,” I say, leaning my head against the wall.

  Exhaustion creeps up on me. The blood loss and all the crying has rendered me weak and tired.

  “No, no, no. Stay with me, Lana. Don’t leave me,” Landon says as I lie on the ground.

  “I’m so tired.”

  “I know. But you need to stay awake. You need to fight this,” he pleas. I want nothing more than to do as Landon says.

  My body has a mind of its own. Even though I fight with everything I have to stay with Landon, I feel myself slip away.

  Chapter 25

  Lana

  March 15, 2014

  The first thing that comes to mind when I wake up is: my abdomen is on fire. I can’t wrap my head around why I am in so much pain. All I want to do is touch my stomach and massage the pain away. However, my hands are chained behind my back.

  I am lying on cold cement, and I remember exactly where I am. I shiver, from both the cold and the memories that flow through my mind. My baby is dead. It was cut out of me while I just sat there, powerless to stop it.

  And Landon. Poor Landon, blind from all that happens around him, only hearing my cries. A part of me now wishes he has his sight, to give him a sliver of hope. On the other hand, he doesn’t need to see me like this. If this is our last moment together, I don’t want him to die with the memory of me looking like this.

  I let out a whimper as I move to sit up, wincing at the pain.

  “Lana? Oh, thank goddess!” Landon calls from across the prison. Hearing his voice is a comfort. All I want is to be in his arms. It’s painful having him so close yet not within reach. “How is the pain? Give some to me if you can’t bear it,” he pleads.

  “You have enough pain, Landon,” I whisper, resting up against the cold, concrete wall. I peel open my eyes to see him sitting in the middle of the cell, as close to me as he can. I notice he popped his hand back in place, yet his ribs are still broken. I fear if they aren’t set soon, his body will heal around them.

  I am glad Landon wasn’t tortured while I was out. The mere thought of it makes me sick.

  I hear muffled screams.

  “They’ve been at it for hours,” Landon whispers.

  Trent… What are they doing to him? I let out another whimper as I pray to the Moon Goddess to end this. In any way, just let this all stop.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Just a few hours. A med came in and sewed you up. He seemed put off by everything; told me the extent of your wound. He told me if you don’t get any nourishment, you won’t last much longer. But I promise you, I will not let you die in here, Lana!”

  I try to smile at his promise. It’s a weak promise. There is no way to guarantee he can get us out of here.

  I hear a loud whipping sound followed by Trent’s screams. I watch Landon, trying to focus on him.

  “Talk to me, Lana. Tell me about how you and Jesse became friends,” he says, trying to distract me.

  “It was pretty much when we were little kids, maybe around the age of four. Our parents were talking, and Jesse and I got bored of sitting around. So, we went outside and played with chalk and whatever kids played with back then. We were inseparable since. We were both Omegas at that time, so we were always allowed to be with each other. Our schedules were similar; we had the same chores.

  “When we were thirteen, we were walking in the backyard in our wolf forms. We were newly shifted. We couldn’t get enough of being with our wolves. A few Gamma boys were taunting us, telling us how ugly and small our wolves were. Jesse didn’t like it. So, she bit one of them clean in the shoulder. I thought it was the funniest thing, the way the boys were startled and scared. Castor saw this. He was a good man back then. He appointed Jesse the position of a Gamma.

  “With her being Gamma, we spent less and less time together. However, our friendship never faltered.” Another whip sounds, causing me to cringe.

  “Jesse is a great friend to you. I am glad you have her,” Landon says. I have to give him credit. He was able to get my mind off Trent for a few minutes.

  We sit in silence, listening to each other breathe and the sound of Trent screaming. It is tearing me apart. My brother doesn’t deserve this. None of them do. It’s my fault for leaving the Cossitt Pack. I stirred up Castor’s anger. Trent and Jesse may have fueled the fire by coming to see me, but I am the one that started it.

  It feels like hours go by before the whipping comes to an end. I hear the opening and closing of the door to the cell Trent and Jesse are in. And then, the door to our cell opens.

  I look up to see Castor walk in, coated in Trent’s blood. Anger surges through me.

  “You bastard!” I scream. He smiles from ear to ear as he heads towards Landon, grabbing him by his hair.

  “Ready to watch your mate get whipped?” he asks me.

  “No! Don’t you dare touch him!” I shout, thrashing against the chains. All pain in my stomach is forgotten as I focus on rescuing Landon.

  Castor pulls Landon to the wall, turning his back, so it is exposed to me. I gasp at the whip wounds from earlier. Even though they are nearly healed, they are red and irritated. I can’t imagine the scars he will walk away with.

  Castor ties a rope around Landon’s neck and then ties it to the same bolt that his hands are chained to.

  “Don’t watch, Lana,” Landon says.

  I shake my head. “I’m so sorry, Landon. I’m so sorry!”

  Castor unravels a whip he has tucked under his belt. At the end of the whip are tiny, pinpoint spikes. They look similar to thumbtacks.

  I watch as Castor gives the whip a shake for good measure before he pulls his hand back. Just as the whip is to make contact with skin, everything goes dark.

  I panic, wondering why I can’t see, yet I can still hear the sickening sound of flesh being ripped at the impact of the whip.

  I then realize. “Give me my sight back!” I shout. I now understand why Landon wanted to see what Castor did to him. Not knowing is unbearable. I want to see every strike, every open wound. I want to know the extent of his wounds.

  “Give her sight back, Landon, or I will rape her here and now while her stomach is still raw,” Castor threatens.

  I cringe, yet Landon takes back the blindness he gave me. I blink a few times as the light enters my eyes. I growl at the sight in front of me. The skin of his back is peeled open, blood running down his legs to the floor. He is so weak, he can barely support himself.

  “I love you, baby. I love you,” I tell him that every time the whip strikes him. And even though I want to vomit at the sight, I watch every cold-blooded second of it.

  Landon barely makes a noise. Does he think I can’t handle listening to him scream? Maybe I can’t. Maybe I’ll just give out right then if I hear him scream for mercy.

 
Castor ceases when Landon’s back is no longer visible from all the blood. He rolls up the whip and tucks it under his belt, walking towards me.

  He sticks out his bloodied hand, grabbing my chin. I growl as he smears my brother’s and my mate’s blood on me. “Tomorrow, I will make sure you carry my child.” He leaves after he unties Landon, who falls to the ground without the support of the rope.

  Once the door is slammed shut, I let out a sob. “Landon? Are you still with me?”

  I can hear the faint beating of his heart. He is so weak. He doesn’t respond, signaling he passed out. I only hope he did so during the whipping.

  Trent? I whisper. He doesn’t respond either. Jesse? I plead to hear her voice. I need to hear it.

  Lana… are you alright? she asks. I let out a heavy sigh at the sound of her voice. A smile plays on my lips. I can’t be happier to hear her.

  I’m fine. What about you? Trent?

  Castor whipped him pretty bad, she answers. But he’s still alive. He’s not dead.

  What about you? I ask.

  Jesse doesn’t respond. Her silence only allows for multiple scenarios to run through my head. Did he whip her too? Or beat her senseless? Did he use a knife on her like he did to me?

  He raped me.

  I sit there, stunned by what she says. I hang my head in absolute distraught. This man is wounding me by hurting my family more so than inflicting the pain on me himself.

  I felt so bad for Trent. He tried everything. Lana, he’s never going to be able to face you.

  Was that Castor’s plan? To turn all of them against me? None of this is anyone’s fault but Castor and my own. Trent can’t blame himself for not being able to save my best friend. It’s not his responsibility to look after her. It was mine. And Mason’s… who may no longer be with us.

  I am so sorry, Jesse. We’re going to get through this. Do you trust me?

  Of course, I do. But you don’t have the strength to get all of us out. Castor told me what he did to you… to your child. I am so sorry, Lana.

  Tears that never seem to cease coming roll down my cheeks. Shh. It’s alright. You need to focus on keeping your strength up. We’re going to kill this son of a bitch.