Page 3 of Designation Prey

He thinks about getting off the floor. “I’ll make it,” he says, because of course he can. It’s in the building, for crying out loud. He just needs to stumble there. How hard can it be? How pathetic is he if he can’t make it a few dozen feet?

Okay, it’s farther than that, but he’s a soldier, an elite warrior, and he can practically hear his father telling him to get up and be a man. So, he will do that.

Until he can’t. Until the day comes when he drops so hard and so far that he just doesn’t wake up again. That’s the future that’s coming for him. Everyone knows it, but they’re all just pretending he’s somehow going to live a semi-normal life one of these days and be able to serve his country.

“Okay. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes and I’ll make sure they’re expecting you.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine, Daniel. Don’t fixate on it,” he says, voice firm.

Not fixate. Ha! That’s easier said than done.

He manages to shove to his knees and then uses the porcelain throne for support to stand, but the room spins so much Daniel has to lean against the counter for long moments before he can walk to the bedroom. Pants. Shirt. Shoes. Medical.

Pants. Shirt. Shoes. Medical.

Easy.

He makes it to his bedroom and gets a pair of sweats on. He’s overcome with dizziness in the living room and tries to collapse onto his couch. He hears the glass of the coffee table shattering, feels it all along his side and his face as glass gouges into him. Hot and sharp, then wetness as he bleeds.

I forgot a shirt, he thinks. Because the pain hasn’t quite set in yet.

Get up.

Daniel can’t stay on the ground. He needs to get to medical. He can’t move. He whimpers. His side is on fire where the glass is cutting him to ribbons, and there’s blood under his hand and his side.

It’s spreading. Daniel can see it creeping along the floor in an ever-widening circle. How odd. Maybe his body wants to die. Maybe this isn’t actually about him at all. Maybe it’s just the end of this terrible experiment and his body has decided that death is the only way out.

Okay.

Okay, he thinks, and no other emotion rises up within him. No fear, no anger. Nothing.

He watches the blood spread along the ground. Someone will have to clean that up. It won’t be him. What a relief. To have this whole nightmare of an existence just be over.

And he doesn’t hurt all that much. There are definitely worse ways to go. Like Everest. Or drowning. Being held captive and getting tortured. At least he’s in his apartment.

At least it’s finally fucking over.

His brother Logan had managed to come out null—a unique designation that somehow meant he didn’t need to submit or dominate. Daniel came out not only submissive but so damn low on the submissive scale he’s heard a few people call him “prey.” They mutter it or speak in whispers. The doctors and his father don’t speak about it but it’s a disaster. If he were anyone else, he might have gone straight into a deep freeze or given to some Dominants as a chew toy at some far-flung base.

But he’s the son of an important man and so he has options other soldiers don’t. He can be experimented upon and improved while others can’t.

The last few years of his life have been one awful experiment after another. Can’t experiment on a dead submissive.

The pool of blood reaches his travel bag, soaking into the bottom. He’s been so sick he hasn’t even unpacked.

He closes his eyes and waits for the end.

2

Liam is awake when the call comes in to report to medical. It’s just after three a.m.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” he asks, voice rough from lack of sleep. He’s much too good at tossing and turning.

“Yes. But don’t use a neutralizing bodywash. It’s a submissive in crisis.”

“Got it, I’m on my way,” he says, and gets out of bed, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and then puts on the most comfortable sweats and softest t-shirt he owns. A submissive in crisis will be very sensitive to everything—including touch—and something like wool or denim would be too rough. The same with zippers or buttons.

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