Malevolent Penitentiary: The Alpha’s Prisoner Mate

Chapter 4

***Avery***

Two days had passed since my sister Giselle’s unexpected visit, and the memory of that unknown male—my mate—lingered in the back of my mind like a haunting echo. I was in the same gray, cramped prison that had become my world, but my confinement in a dark cell had ended. Now, I was back among the other inmates. The shift felt surreal, almost like stepping into a film made up of shadows and echoes.

The prison yard was a chaotic black market of human desperation. Prisoners mingled in loose circles, sharing whispered secrets, trading scraps of food, and gambling with what little they owned. Some bet their meager possessions; others wagered promises or inconceivable fantasies about life beyond these walls. I had nothing to gamble with except the threadbare clothes on my back.

The first year here had been brutal. I’d learned quickly that survival depended on observation and adaptability. Books had been my only comfort, my escape into a world that felt distant and unreachable. They had taught me to read people—how to decipher their motives, understand their fears, and ultimately, outsmart them. It was a concept I had seen played out in countless prison movies: identify the biggest, meanest person in the yard and make your mark.

After weeks of careful observation, I chose my moment to strike against the prison’s bully, a towering figure known simply as Bruce. He had earned a reputation through intimidation, leaving terrified whispers in his wake. But I was no fool. I had watched him, learned his routine, and discovered his weaknesses—the way he underestimated those he deemed smaller, weaker. He was cruel, but he wasn’t invincible.

The day I challenged him, my heart raced with adrenaline. I wasn’t skilled in brute force, but I fought smart. Using the fighting techniques my father had once trained me to use. When our fists collided, all I felt was raw determination. The fight was swift, brutal, and vicious. In the end, I claimed victory, earning my first kill and a new status among the inmates: fear and respect intertwined. The darkness that enveloped me since that moment became a cloak I wore with an odd mixture of pride and sorrow.

But as I stood in the yard, replaying the events of my sister’s visit, I began to wonder about my reputation. Whispers of innocence began to circulate among the newer prisoners, and while that was a tantalising thought, the fear I had instilled in the prison was something else entirely. Did they view me as a monster or a as misunderstood? Did it even matter? There was only one opinion that seemed to leak through my forged wall and had me feeling like the opinion mattered to me—my mate’s. Those piercing golden eyes and warm brown hair flashed through my mind, igniting an unfamiliar hope amidst the shadows.

“Avery,” a cold voice sliced through my thoughts, bringing me back to the harsh reality of the prison yard.

I blinked and looked up, my eyes meeting the hard, unfamiliar face of a man I had never seen before. He stood with an air of arrogance, and I was immediately on high alert.

“You must be a new prisoner,” I replied, my tone curt. No one in here approached me and called my name. Not after years of fights in here and the wins of killing those that were sure going to kill me given the chance. I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say, but I grabbed my food tray, preparing to go through the motions of another monotonous meal.

“Your knowledge won’t leave this prison so today you die,” he announced with a cold smirk curling his lips.

For a brief second, surprise flickered through me, and adrenaline surged as instinct kicked in. I didn’t have time to contemplate his bizarre proclamation. I reacted on pure reflex, moving faster than most would expect. He lunged, a knife glinting in the fluorescent prison lights, aimed straight at my throat.

Here we go again, I thought, focusing all my energy into my combat instincts.

The world narrowed, the sounds of the prison muted as I honed in on my opponent. I sidestepped his initial attack, feeling the rush of air as the blade whooshed past my neck. With a swift motion, I twisted to face him, my instincts driving me forward. I kicked out at his knee with every ounce of force I had, hearing the satisfying crack as he stumbled and fell.

His eyes widened with shock as I grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer, our faces inches apart. “You picked the wrong fight, newbie,” I growled, my voice low and threatening. I saw the shift in his expression as fear washed over him, but it was too late.

With a powerful thrust, I drove my knee into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. I used his moment of vulnerability to wrestle the blade from his grasp. The metal felt foreign yet familiar in my hands, a cold reminder of how quickly life could end.

The struggle was fierce, but I felt the surge of adrenaline propelling me. He was strong, but I was fueled by instinct; sheer survival surged through me. In a final flurry of movement, I plunged the knife into his side. A gasp escaped his lips as his body went rigid, and I felt the warm rush of victory intermingled with something darker beneath the surface.

As he crumpled to the ground, I stood over him, heart pounding, a mixture of triumph and dread coursing through me. Given the risk involved, I couldn’t afford to linger in this moment of power. I dropped the knife and stepped back, my gaze sweeping over the surrounding prisoners. Their eyes were wide, many reflecting shock, but also that familiar flicker of fear.

The guards were swift in their response, a flurry of shouts and chaos erupting as they rushed toward me. I knew what was coming; I had been down this path before. There was no way to avoid confinement now and I just got out.

“Scoot back, Hightower!” one of the guards yelled, but I didn’t need instruction. I raised my hands to show my compliance, but inside, I felt the thrill coursing through me, the liberated energy of the kill.

I was taken away, dragged back to the small, dark cell that had become my temporary sanctuary, the walls closing in once again. I could hear the murmurs from the other prisoners as they speculated, their whispers slithering into my ears as if seeking to burrow into my mind. I was both feared and respected—yet alone once again.

As I sat on the icy floor of my cell, the silence enveloped me, a blanket of solitude. I leaned my back against the cold wall, staring at the slivers of light that filtered through the barely cracked door. My thoughts drifted back to Giselle and the mysterious male who was so inexplicably tethered to me. Had he even known the depths of what I was capable of? Did he care?

Hope and fear collided within me, creating a storm of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Would the shadows of my past impact forever trap me? Did my crimes seal my fate, or was there a path toward redemption that I hadn’t yet seen?

And then there was the lingering mystery of my mate. What was he doing out there, beyond these unforgiving walls? Did he understand the dark corners of my soul, or did he only see the survivor striving amidst the chaos?

The weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on my chest as I surrendered to my thoughts, staring blankly at the wall in front of me as echoes of the past and visions of a future I still longed for collided and wove themselves into a tapestry of fate I could not yet comprehend.

This man had tried to kill me. Why? And what did he mean that my knowledge would die with me?