“I’ll let you know when we’re in.” Drake caught my eye and I nodded giving him permission to tell her what she needed to know.
“Watch a master at work.” Finding her courage again, she winked at Drake.
Drake gave me a where did you find her? look.
I smiled and shrugged. “Find me when you have something to report.”
Drake nodded, distracted by watching Charlie’s fingers fly over the keyboard.
I shook my head at their focus. Computers really weren’t my thing.
Outside the laundry, Myles peered up from the neck of the female who was his cover. He kept a careful eye on who went into the laundry. Those working in the sweat shop wouldn’t get curious, but I needed to keep Drake and that computer safe and hidden. Myles’s green eyes gleamed against his dark skin. I nodded at him as I walked by and he got back to nuzzling the female's neck, making a show of hitting on her. It was all for the guards, at least, that was the plan, though who knew? Myles was a powerful shifter who needed sex often. So long as he didn’t get distracted, I couldn’t care less.
I strode back to my cell, doing my best to ignore the anxiety churning in my belly at my next job. Two prison guards, garbed from head to toe in black armoured jumpsuits, heavy boots, helmets and visors, watched my approach. They stood on either side of my cell door and trained their weapons on me. I was aware that above me more guards followed my progress with the barrels of their weapons. I kept the snarl off my lips and ignored them.
My cell door was propped open and Owen sat in the chair, a familiar computer in front of him.
Zander leaned against the wall, a small device in his hand. There was no love lost between Zander and Owen. Owen saw Zander as a threat despite us all working for our mutual unnamed boss. He also blamed Zander by proxy for this situation and the pain inflicted on us all. He thought Zander was Doherty’s lackey, his henchman, and no matter what spin Zander put on it, it was true. Zander went out and caught innocents and criminals alike, bringing them here for a life of torture, and, eventually, death. Whichever way you looked at it, he was a cold hearted bastard, no matter his reasons. Then again, weren’t we all?
As I looked at them both, I didn’t know who I’d put my money on to win a fight. Zander clearly had supernatural power in his body, but I had never seen the full force of it, only ever the burning fire in his eyes. Owen on the other hand, was a vicious and powerful alpha wolf who would never concede defeat.
Doherty had made it clear that he wanted Owen here to act as my beta. He’d wanted me to survive the first bloodthirsty challenges and take the mantle of Prime. I couldn’t help but wonder if that scheming bastard had marked me for this since Cain Rawson had saved my skinny arse as a young boy. At the shifter academy I had been put in the top groups, and when I’d started my SBI training it had become even more apparent that I was a powerful alpha. Doherty had observed my wolf could be more powerful, stronger, and far more vicious than any other shifter’s and he’d trained me hard, using all the resources at his disposal.
I’d learned to dominate my wolf in my early teens, never allowing him to control me. Until we’d been imprisoned in this place, and Ember’s loss had consumed me, we had worked as a team. Now our predatory coldness was difficult to control, our souls shrouded in shadow. Ember had become an anchor; the light to balance my darkness.
“Hey, man, I’ve divided the fighters into pack groups and I’ve marked the newbies,” Owen said.
I nodded and leaned my elbows on the table, peering at the screen. The newbies were those who had arrived with Ember’s cohort. The other fighters were already in the system. I might not pick each fighter who would go into the ring, but with Owen’s help, I identified the best fighters and any potential alphas or betas among the packs. Those that were left were fodder for the entertainment rooms.
The day before the fight, names would be announced—hundreds of them. On that day, if a fighter didn’t show, another was