stolen four years of my life, but they were powerful enough to infiltrate the SBI top management tiers, arrange an interview in the name of the SBI Overseer, and get me in here, right where they wanted me. I was fairly certain they’d had a hand in murdering Lyss, too.
My stomach growled noisily, as I sat down. My body needed sustenance after my hard workout, but I would not risk missing Rawson. He was one of the reasons I conformed to what the warden and Doherty required. Until I figured a way to get him out of this mess, I’d behave.
I began to sketch. I found creating the lines and curves of my drawings the most therapeutic thing I could do. Even sex and fighting didn’t compare to the mental quiet I found while drawing. Needing an outlet for the images of Ember that haunted me, I’d picked up the pencil one day—and hours later found her staring back at me.
Twenty minutes passed, and a set of accusatory eyes peered out from the paper. Ember’s expression as I left her standing on her driveway never left me. But I smiled. She was my beautiful weakness, my guilty pleasure to dream about when I was alone. The pain she evoked in my heart was almost an addiction, but it meant I would never forget her, that she would never truly be gone.
Carefully, I placed the pencil down, and traced the edge of the paper where her jaw and full mouth would be when I got around to finishing the sketch.
Hate for Doherty burned in my gut. Everytime I had to suffer looking in his face, I wanted to rip his throat out for killing her. I still had no idea if I was working for the good guys, but if this time served meant I got to kill Doherty, in the end it would all be worth it. Ember had died alone in the woods because of him. Grinding my jaw, I almost screwed the drawing up, but a knock distracted me. The door opened, and Rawson’s familiar silhouette filled the door frame.
I remained seated until my six brothers followed him in. D was about to shut the door when Zander strode up to it. D gave him a dead eyed stare and didn’t budge, his foot wedged behind the door to stop it opening.
Zander raised his dark brows, his dangerous eyes flashing crimson.
D slanted his dead-eyed look to me. “Prime?” It didn’t matter if Zander could cause him immense pain, D was loyal to me.
I nodded. “It’s okay, D.”
“So be it,” he said, with his heavy Russian accent. D never bothered to hide his origins within our pack of brothers, but he made it more pronounced out in the main pack. His rationale was it gave him a more menacing air. Not that he needed one. He was six feet of solid, ripped muscle with a square jaw and hard grey eyes. A scar cut through his shaved head, down the right-hand side of his neck to finish his couldn’t give a shit about my life or yours look.
Zander inclined his head as he passed by D.
“No guards?” I kept my inquiry neutral and pleasant.
Zander just unfolded his arms and stared directly into Rawson’s eyes, pointed at the chair opposite mine and said, “Sit.”
I ground my teeth as Rawson sat, obedient as a domesticated dog, and stared blankly at the wall over my shoulder.
“Free him.” I clenched my teeth.
Zander tilted his chin and remained silent. I hated it, but there was no denying he was the one in control here.
“Please.”
“All in good time. First, our mutual friend, and your employer, wants you to know there is a time limit on acquiring the information he needs.”
“Why? He’s waited this long.”
Zander grinned menacingly. “Time’s up, brother. You need to get someone in the lab. He doesn’t care how you do it. I’ve informed him the one person you’ve managed to get in so far has disappeared. You weren't careful enough—or they weren’t.” He sounded pissed off. As well he should. He’d had to work with me, and put his own position at risk, to get our spy in.
I was also under no illusions that if I didn’t play my part, I was disposable. Not even my arrangement with the warden and Doherty would protect me. I’d had four years to get myself in place and my people under cover in the labs and I’d failed.