Malevolent Penitentiary: The Alpha’s Prisoner Mate

Chapter 6

***Avery***

The atmosphere at the card table shifted dramatically as the door swung open, and fresh faces strolled in—new inmates, raw and green, whose gazes darted around nervously, trying to grasp the hierarchy of our perilous little world. There were three of them, all probably early thirties if I had to guess. Something about the arrogant way they strutted in—chest puffed out like c***s on a farm—set my instincts on edge. Prison had a way of sharpening your senses, making everything more vivid and threatening.

But no one walked in here like that, they walked s if they wouldn’t be staying long. My mind went to the last inmate I killed; he was new too, yet he came up to me as if he was going to be leaving after taking me down.

I weighed my options, glancing at my fellow players who were eyeing the newcomers with equal parts curiosity and apprehension. I had been in Malevolent Penitentiary long enough to spot trouble before it fully bloomed, and these three were about to create a storm.

One of the males, tall and broad-shouldered with tousled brown hair, stepped forward, the bravado almost spilling over. “Alright, listen up. Which one of you is Avery Hightower?”

The others snickered, and I could feel the annoyance bubbling within me. They thought this was a joke, a game. I was not a name to be tossed around like some kind of trophy. With a quick glance, I sized them up—a wolfish grin cutting through their youthful features, but their eyes betrayed a hint of the fear that reared its head whenever new players entered the tense arena of prison life.

“Why?” I asked coolly, leaning back in my chair, arms crossed.

“‘Cause we’ve heard all about the she-wolf who thinks she runs this place,” the lead one taunted, eyes glimmering with the thrill of a challenge. “Thought we’d come pay our respects.”

The other two laughed, but there was no humor in it. I could sense the failings underpinning their bravado, an energy crackling with instability that hinted they had come here to prove a point rather than engage in casual banter. A flicker of irritation sparked within me.

“You boys are fresh meat, aren’t you?” I responded, my tone teasing, yet edged with menace. “You really ought to tread carefully around here.”

“Is that a threat?” the tall one challenged, puffing out his chest.

“No, it’s a warning. But if you want a fight, then who am I to stop you?” My muscles tensed as I rose from the chair, determination flooding my veins. I was already well-acquainted with the art of survival. Sometimes, it required violence, especially in this godforsaken place.

My opponents from the card game scattered, knowing what was to come. It took mere seconds for the three men to realise their mistake. I dropped my cards as they surged toward me, and I met them head-on, feeling every primal instinct kick in. It was a symphony of adrenaline; I curled my fingers into fists, ready to embrace the chaos.

The first punch caught me off-guard; a right hook from the tall one grazed my jaw, but it only fueled my resolve. With a grunt, I shifted my weight and retaliated, redirecting the energy of the blow and driving my fist into his gut. The satisfying impact caused him to double over, wheezing. I didn’t give him a chance to recover and quickly followed through with a knee to his face—I felt the crunch under my strength.

The other two charged, but I was prepared for them. Pivoting on my heel, I sidestepped the first swing, a wild punch that missed its mark. I ducked beneath his arm, feeling the omnipresent thrill of danger wrap around me like a familiar cloak. I danced out of their reach, employing agility and precision.

One of the newcomers made the mistake of glancing back, his face a mix of fear and anger. In that split second, I seized my opportunity. I rushed toward him, connecting my fist squarely against his jaw with a brutal uppercut. His body crumpled to the ground, and I pivoted to the final assailant—satisfaction coursing through me.

This one was fierce; he gripped my arm, trying to wrestle me down. His muscles strained against mine, but I had been in fights far rougher than this. With a quick twist of my elbow, I broke free of his hold. I pivoted my body, thrusting my foot out to kick him sharply in the knee, forcing him to buckle. His scream echoed in the otherwise quiet yard.

The powerful thrill of combat engulfed me as I watched them falter. I was breathing heavily but didn’t feel an ounce of fatigue. They had come in thinking they were on a hunt, but they didn’t realise they were prey.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I taunted. “This the best entertainment you can offer?”

Fueled by the adrenalin thrumming in my veins, I relished the confrontation. Each blow exchanged felt cathartic, a release from the confinement that had bound me both physically and mentally. But suddenly, the moment took on a deeper intention; I wasn’t just fighting for the sake of it. With each punch, I pushed closer to the real target. I needed to get to Harris, the one who might hold the keys to my freedom.

The remaining two players lay on the ground, groaning. The tall one, now nursing a bloody nose, scrambled back against the concrete wall, shock and fear pooling in his eyes.

“Please, don’t do this!” he gasped, desperation lacing his voice.

“You wanted to pay your respects, didn’t you?” I replied, closing the distance between us. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a girl who doesn’t play by your rules?”

In that moment, I felt powerful—ruthless and liberated all at once. I relished the taste of dominance and fear, the weight of my status as a feared female among these predators. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“Let me go,” he begged, hands up in surrender. “We didn’t mean any harm. Just wanted to see who you are.”

The game was shifting. There was fear in their eyes now, and I could sense my power amplifying. “You weren’t just coming to see who I was,” I countered, my voice low and menacing. “You were here to assert dominance. You thought you could waltz in and claim your place, and that might’ve worked in another prison. But not here. Why call me out the moment you arrived?”

I stomped my foot down beside the groaning body at my feet, and the tall one shuddered, instinctively flinching from my display of strength. Blood was smeared across the cracked floor tiles, a reminder of the fragility of life within these walls.

“We were sent to s**t you up.” He whispered his confession and I gave him a look of surprise.

“By who?” I asked and this time my eyes promised death.

“We don’t know, we never saw his face.” I gripped his head and banged it into the ground.

“Next time, choose your battles wisely. Or else you’ll be the one lying in a pool of your own blood,” I spat, letting the words hang heavy in the air. I took a step back, feeling temporarily sated by the urgency of the fight—but my thoughts ripped through the aftermath. Harris, was in confinement; as a guard of Alpha, they were hated in here and would be fighting for their life every second by every criminals in here.

“You know the drill Hightower!” The guards came rushing to stop the deaths I could have caused but chose to let them live for information.

I had to find him and answer the mysteries that had brought me to this turmoil.

Wasting no time, I turned placed my hands above my head and they strode me toward the door that lead deep down into the prison to the confinement cells.

“Back in here, Hightower!” one of the guards on confinement duty barked, a grizzled man with a scar tracing the side of his face, his voice gravelly. “You know better than to engage with new inmates like that.”

“Let me guess,” I challenged, unable to hide the righteous edge in my tone. “You prefer to let them run rampant as they establish themselves around here instead?”

He scoffed, the corners of his mouth curling downward. “That was unnecessary. You’re going back to confinement for this.”

I spread my arms wide, realizing I didn’t really care. “Fine! I was actually thinking of doing that anyway, but not for my own reasons. God forbids a girl likes the quiet.” I joked as he searched me for weapons before taking me towards my familiar cell.

“Confinement isn’t a privilege; it’s punishment,” he retorted, shaking his head.

“Do what you must,” I replied coolly, allowing him to usher me through the familiar corridors. I had learned long ago that if you wanted something in Malevolent Penitentiary, you needed to make calculated risks—what was one more fight while I fought for my freedom?

As the metal door clanged shut behind me, I had to suppress my smirk at the thought of how I had bested those new inmates. The thrill of the fight still coursed through my veins, but my mind sharpened with purpose.

My knuckles bloodied with new open wounds from the fight. In confinement, I settled onto the thin, hard mattress—the only semblance of comfort in this dim room. I hadn’t been in here for long when a figure appeared in the cell next to mine sat up groaning. My heart sped up at the male I was wanting to talk to.

“Harrison,” I breathed, sitting bolt upright.

His expression was ridged as he turned towards my direction, but I could see the flicker of recognition pass across his features, mixed with something else—curiosity, perhaps. “I hear you had a little bit of fun out there all week,” he remarked wryly, his voice smooth yet tinged with weariness.

“Fun is one way to put it,” I replied with a grin. “But mostly, I’m here for you.”

The corner of his lips turned upward, and for a moment, the weight of the world outside seemed to lift. But then the grim reality of our surroundings settled over us. “What do you need, Avery? Just don’t kill me, I’ll talk willingly.” Fears laced his voice.

I really didn’t expect it to be that easy.

“I need to know everything about who can pull strings to bring visitors in here. After the one year window of course,” I stated plainly. “I need to understand who appointed had that sort of power. I hear you were close to Alphas until two years ago.”

His expression shifted, taking on a more serious tone. “You’ve tangled yourself in the wrong webs already. They’re dangerous, and any hint of probing can lead to dire consequences for both of us.”

“But you know something,” I pressed, leaning closer to the cells edge, my voice a fierce whisper. “If you tell me, I will inform those who torment you everyday step back.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, skepticism flickering across his features. “And what makes you think I can help you?”

“Because I’m the only one that can have you protected in here and you need it.” I urged. “In this world, it’s either play or perish.”

“What you’re talking about is treachery,” he warned, his voice smooth, yet low. “They don’t take kindly to betrayal, and if you aren’t careful…”

“I’ve been careful long enough,” I interrupted with a fierce glint in my eyes. “And besides I’m not scared.”

A long, tense silence filled the air as Harrison weighed my determination against the consequences. He finally sighed, the resolve shifting in his expression. “I can’t promise you a solution. But I can give you insights from two years ago before here.”

“Who?,” I said, the one question I was sure would give me a name.

“Alpha Harlen Essex, the son of the Alpha that put you in here.” Harrison spoke and my hand gripped the cell iron.

Out of all the males in the world, I was mated to him. To the blood of an Alpha that pointed at me as the murderer of that night.