Page 134 of Sawyer

Somehow, I’m able to think through the haze of lust and the pheromones our captors continue to pump into the room.

Her eyes show no signs of life. Sure, she’s crawling toward me, but she isn’t in control. The omega, the pheromones, and the hormonal drive that demands she crawls toward me are in control, and, and—

She scrambles up my body, causing me to freeze as her slick drips over my leg.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She hovers over my cock, and I can feel her heat.

I grip her hips and hold her still. “Thea, listen to me. I’m not your alpha.”

“Alpha?” she whimpers, reduced to nothing more than a need so carnal that she can’t even control her actions, but I can control mine.

“Forgive me,” I say before barking, “Sleep, omega.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, but she’s unable to fight my bark or even think for herself. I didn’t want to be yet another person taking a choice from her. This, however, is for her. She needs to be more lucid to make this choice.

Even though these people just tried to take everything from me, I still choose Sawyer. My canines ache for her and not the omega in my arms.

“Sleep,” I command her once more. The fight in her fades away as I hold her. “I’m so fucking sorry.” I push her hair off her sticky face, finding a nasty scar on her neck.

Someone shot her. This omega is more broken than any woman I’ve ever known.

“I’ll make this right, I promise you,” I whisper to her as the fog stops pumping into the room.

Those damn red letters blink on the wall, changing from “match” to “heat.”

I just threw this broken doll into heat.

Fates save me.

Sawyer

A knock on the door rouses me from slumber. I curled up in a ball and fell asleep, the cold floor numbing me from the inside out, allowing me just a moment’s reprieve from the revelation of Sin’s father.

Match.

The world isn’t just cruel. It’s brutal that I was allowed a brief second of love and everything I desired, only for it to be ripped away as I’m tossed to another male.

And I have no choice.

Not one.

They have stripped me of my choices, ripped them apart, and left me raw and vulnerable here on this floor.

The knocking sounds again, dragging me toward a consciousness I don’t want.

The knock is nothing more than a formality that’s full of bullshit antics to give us even a slight illusion of choice.

Fuck their choice.

I don’t move from where I lie curled up beside the toilet. I vomited again right before I dozed off, depleting my body of all nutrients. Even what little I had for breakfast came up earlier, so there’s nothing left inside of me.

The door unlocks, and I blink my eyes open to find the doctor grinning down at me.

“Sawyer.” He claps like one of those deranged monkeys that sits in toy store windows, just tapping away at their cymbals. “What great news! You will certainly be our shortest stay here at the institute.”

I snort. He’s calling this an institute. For what? Depravity?

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