Chapter 5: The Glass Cage
1181 Words
The helicopter touched down on the roof of the Obsidian Tower.
The rotor blades slowed to a rhythmic thump-thump-thump, slicing through the night air.
I looked out the window. Clouds. We were above the clouds. The city below was nothing but a grid of glittering lights. From up here, the pack lands... felt like a nightmare happening on another planet.
“We're here.”
Valerius unbuckled his seatbelt. The click was loud in the silence. He didn't wait for me. He stood up, towering in the cabin, and buttoned his suit jacket.
“Come. And leave that...” He gestured vaguely at my ruined dress. “...filth behind.”
I looked down at myself.
The grey Omega dress. Torn at the hem. Caked with drying mud and Marcus's rejection blood. I smelled like rain, wet dog, and cheap tragedy. I was a stain in his pristine world.
I followed him out. The wind on the roof was brutal. It whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.
Valerius walked straight to a private elevator. He scanned his palm.
Beep.
The doors slid open.
The penthouse wasn't a home. It was a fortress of glass and steel.
Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the entire length of the room. Black marble floors reflected the city lights like a dark mirror. The furniture was sparse, modern, and looked uncomfortable.
It was cold. Sterile. And it reeked of him.
Ozone. Expensive scotch. And apex predator.
“Guest room is down the hall. Second door on the left,” Valerius said, walking toward a crystal decanter on the bar cart.
He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid splashing against the ice. He didn't look at me.
“There is a bathroom attached. Burn those rags. If I smell that pack on you when you come out, I will throw you off the balcony.”
He wasn't joking. I didn't argue. I ran.
The bathroom was larger than my entire dorm room at the Omega quarters. White stone. Gold fixtures. A shower big enough for five people.
I stripped. The grey dress fell to the floor with a wet plat. I kicked it away. I stepped under the spray and turned it to the hottest setting.
Hiss.
The water scalded my skin, turning it pink. I scrubbed. I used a loofah until my skin felt raw. I wanted to wash away Marcus's touch. I wanted to scrub off the memory of the crowd laughing as Tanya poured wine on me.
I washed my hair three times, using a bottle of shampoo that smelled like sandalwood and cedar.
His shampoo.
I stepped out, wrapping myself in a plush white towel that felt like a cloud. I wiped the steam from the mirror.
And then I froze.
I dropped the towel. I leaned closer to the glass, my hands gripping the cold porcelain sink until my knuckles turned white.
“No...” I whispered.
My eyes.
My dull, mud-brown Omega eyes... were gone.
The irises were still dark, but they were rimmed with a glowing, electric Silver.
And my pupils... they weren't round. They were slits. Like a wolf in mid-shift.
The Awakening.
It wasn't a myth. The rejection hadn't killed my wolf. It had broken the seal on something else. Something older.
A wave of nausea hit me. Hard. The room spun. My knees gave out. I grabbed the counter, retching dryly into the sink.
The hunger came next. It wasn't a stomach hunger. It was a void in my core, screaming to be filled.
My baby. It was awake. And it was starving.
“Elena?”
The door didn't just open. It swung inward with force.
Valerius stood there. He had discarded his jacket. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the hollow of his throat. He took in the scene instantly. Me, clutching the sink. The towel on the floor. My naked, trembling back.
“I'm fine,” I choked out, scrambling to cover myself with a silk robe hanging on the door hook. It was huge on me. It smelled like him. “I just... got dizzy.”
Valerius didn't leave. He stepped into the humid bathroom. The air pressure dropped.
He walked right up to me. He didn't look at my body. He looked at my face. He grabbed my chin, tilting my head up to the harsh light.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. I tried to look away. “Open them.”
I obeyed. I looked at him.
He saw the Silver.
His expression shifted. For a second, the mask of the bored King slipped. I saw shock. And... calculation.
“Heterochromia,” he murmured. “No. Not just pigment. It's energy.”
His thumb brushed my cheekbone. His skin was unnaturally hot. Like a fever.
“You aren't just an Omega, are you, Elena?”
He let go of my chin. His gaze dropped to my arm. I tried to pull away, but he was faster. He grabbed my wrist.
There, stark against my pale skin, was a purple bruise in the shape of a handprint. Where Tanya's guard had grabbed me.
Valerius traced the bruise. His touch was feather-light, a stark contrast to the violence radiating off him.
“Who?”
One word. Loaded with death.
“A guard,” I whispered. “At the border.”
“He touched you?” Valerius's eyes flashed violet. The mirror behind me rattled.
“He will lose that hand by morning.”
It wasn't a threat. It was a weather report. A fact.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin. He unscrewed it, revealing a green salve. He applied it to my wrist. The pain vanished instantly, replaced by a cool numbness.
“Why?” I asked, watching him. “Why are you helping me, Valerius? You hate Alphas. You hate packs.”
He finished applying the salve and wiped his hands on a towel. He backed me up until my hips hit the cold marble counter. He placed his hands on either side of me, trapping me in a cage of expensive fabric and dangerous muscle.
“Marcus Thorne owes me a debt,” he said, his voice low, vibrating in my chest. “A blood debt from ten years ago.”
“So I'm leverage?” I asked. “I'm just a pawn to get back at him?”
Valerius leaned down. His lips brushed the shell of my ear. I shivered.
“You were a pawn, Elena. When you were just a rejected mate.”
He pulled back, his violet eyes locking onto my silver-rimmed ones. His hand moved down, hovering inches over my flat stomach. I felt the heat of his palm through the silk robe.
“But now... you are carrying the only thing that matters.”
He smirked. A cruel, beautiful curve of his lips.
“You broke a blood bond. You have silver in your eyes. And inside you...” He tapped my belly. “...is the heir to Black Ridge. And I just stole it.”
- Writer
