Prologue
Her bed was moving again. Bright florescent lights flashed by her as she was wheeled down the white sterile hallway. There were no windows here; she would give anything just to see a tree again. Maybe then she would be able to imagine what life was like outside the hellish existence she knew now. As the white double doors came into view again, she began to cry; she knew what was beyond those doors. The gurney crossed the threshold of the door and the operating room came into view. Most would think it was a typical operating room if they didn't know what actually went on here. Instruments were lined up ready for use.
It hurt. Her whole body screamed out in pain. Oh, God what did they do to her. How much more would she be forced to endure? The blood flowing through her felt like tiny razors slicing through the thin tissue of her veins. She tried to scream again hoping that the release of energy in her voice would give her some control back; but her outlet was muted. Her throat was raw; she could now feel the copious liquid oozing down the back of her throat. Blood, she knew. She had screamed to the point that she'd ruptured the lining of her esophagus again.
She blamed everyone for what was happening to her: werewolves, humans, witches, fae, everyone. She knew werewolves were in the facility now. No one ever spoke of them, they'd never shifted in her presence; but she knew they were here. Before the experiments she didn't know exactly what they were, but she knew there were people in the world that were different. She had never understood the strange feelings of dread and apprehension back then, back when her life was normal. There was just something about certain people that cause her to avoid them. Then the whole world got a shock. Werewolves had been brought out to the public. It didn't take her long to figure out that the people who had that aura around them were different, they were the werewolves. But there was more than that. She'd met witches in her day as well. The fae had revealed themselves years ago. What else was out there, she didn't know. Quite honestly, she didn't want to know.
But here she was. Shackled to the table; she was always naked and shackled to the sterile surface. Bright lights always blinding her, terrifying instruments within her range of view. If she were lucky she would wake after they were finished with their task, or right as they were finishing. Sometimes she was forced to endure the procedure from start to finish; an anesthetic might interfere with the experiment she'd once heard them say when someone complained of the screams.
The lights dimmed and she was moving again, she exited the doors and was headed back down the hall to her 'room'. Men in white lab coats disappeared, the so called doctors. Doctors were supposed to help people; she'd gone to a clinic when they asked the public for random sampling. Fae were one thing, but wolves were different. You could become infected by a werewolf. So everyone in their terror answered the call for blood samples when these independent researchers proclaimed they wanted to find the "cure" or a vaccine. She had intrigued them, there was something about her, and they wanted more samples. They asked her to return. When she complied she was never allowed to go home again.
Her "doctors" now were human of that she was sure. The wolves could never be in the room while the procedure was taking place. She supposed they would go insane by the smell of blood. No one wanted a hungry wolf in the room while they were trying to do whatever it was they were doing to her. She had once believed that humans and werewolves would govern themselves separately. Although the humans here far outnumbered the werewolves they seemed to work together seamlessly. So well in fact the werewolves would do what the doctors ordered them to; that was how she knew the next part of her nightmare was about to begin.
They wheeled her to what was referred to as the specimen room. She preferred to think of her portion of it as her room, it wasn't as horrifying. She was wheeled in and parked in her spot. The wheels were set to the lock position, and the guard pulled the curtain shut around her. She knew there were others in similar beds behind the other curtains, she knew from prior experience that some were already dead, and most of the others would not live through the week. To a certain extent she was relieved, this was her last operation, or some would say experiment; the day before she'd heard the doctors discussing it. They seemed to be quite pleased with what they had done to her. At the same time, however they feared that the stress inflicted on her body would result in her death. Thus far she was their only success; if they killed her before they could duplicate the process then all was lost. So they decided on a new course of action. Once she healed from this final procedure, they would breed an army off her. They'd already found what they considered to be a perfect sire. The male werewolf would breed her and their offspring would have the traits of both their parents. A finer batch of specimens they couldn't conceive of.
She also feared where they would take her next. As she recalled the cells that she had been kept in upon her arrival she shuttered in disgust. Leaving the specimen room and turning away from the operating room if you followed the white corridor you would come to a stairway. She didn't know where the stairs went to, she'd never been able to gain access, but bedside the stairwell was an elevator that only seemed to have one stop several floors below the surface. Once there you came to another specimen room. Cells lined the walls, with men and women caged like animals. Her short time in this room terrified her.
Why, why her. What made her so special, why did they do this to her. Was she even human anymore? Somehow she already knew the answer to that.
~8~ ~8~ ~8~
Everything around her was spinning. Her perception was skewed, and her thoughts jumbled. She knew her ability to function was seriously impaired. She could hear what sounded like a war going on around her. Her room was practically empty, but in her drugged state it was hard for her to contemplate the fact that the rest of the compound was coming down around her. Howls and screams filled the night air.
For several minutes she struggled to figure out where she was. Then it came to her, this was the room she now shared with that man, if you could call him a man. She easily recognized the grey paint, and sparse furniture that decorated the area: a full sized bed, night stand, and a dresser full of his clothes, although one drawer was hers. An attached bathroom was also an accommodation she would never have believed they would give her. Because she was no longer shackled to her bed her room was now was behind a heavy steel door that locked on both sides.
She knew none of this was for her; it was for him and his comfort. She needed to be available for him perform whenever he was ready. The bathroom was obviously for both of them, even a werewolf wouldn't want to have sex with a filthy, foul-smelling human. She had refused to bathe for days hoping he wouldn't touch her if she disgusted him. After a week he forced her to the tub and washed her himself. He then threatened to bathe her daily if she didn't take care of it herself. She promptly started bathing every morning when he left the room.
He was in the room with her now. He called himself her mate, she called him her rapist. He had taken her many times against her will. Then one night months ago he'd come to her promising that by allowing him to perform the mating ritual he would be able to help her escape. She refused, and with that refusal she found some power. Without her participation in the ritual it could not be performed. She was determined to refuse until they finally killed her. The doctors soon became cruel, and this man became kind. The doctors came into the room one day; he was forced to the far wall while one of the doctors ordered three werewolves to hold her to the bed. She struggled and screamed; but it was only seconds later she was forced down. The doctor pulled out a syringe and her struggles started anew. They injected her with something, she had no idea what. After this encounter he tried to comfort her, but she didn't let him; then it began to happen every week. She was to be sent back to the operating room soon she was sure, and in a moment of weakness she allowed his comfort, then grew to depend on it. When he asked to mate her she consented, he could save her, and she would be his mate. Of course it was a ruse. Thus far the doctor's scheme to breed an army off her was unsuccessful. She had not conceived. They hoped that a mating bond would make her receptive to his seed. They were still wrong.
And now it seemed the world was down upon them. The man who called himself her mate was trying to force her from the building. In her haze she barely understood what was happening. People were dying around them. She knew that whoever was closing in on them her mate considered his enemy. He pulled her to what looked like a lobby. Where was she, she never saw a room like this. She tried to take in what she was seeing as he struggled to make her keep pace with him. It was a well lit room filled with natural light. Windows filled the walls and on interior walls elegant painting gave a professional decor its finish. It was hard to believe this was the same building she had been kept in. He continued to yank her arm harshly as they escaped the main compound. He knew how valuable she was. She stumbled over the uneven ground. How long had it been since she was outside. Weeks? Months? Years? She didn't know anymore.
He continued to drag her behind him. "Come on, do you want to die!" He screamed at her. "They will kill you, eat you alive!" Even in her stupor she didn't know if she believed him. "I will not die here for you," he screamed at her. Eventually he gave up and left her there to the mercy of whatever had taken over the compound. Soon his form disappeared in the distance.
This was her only chance; she knew that she had to escape now.
She could hear voices in the distance, but they were coming closer. She had to move, but her legs were shaky at best.
From deep within her body she called upon something, something that hadn't been there in her old life, something that frightened her. But voices were getting closer. She called on it again, it was almost instinctual. She could feel it coming then. Her body was healing. She could move easier again. She called it again and her mind cleared. As her body warmed she ran…
Her body told her things as she ran, which way to go, how to avoid anyone, when to slow, or duck behind a tree. She didn't know where she was going so she just kept running. As she flung herself through the trees and into the forest she found herself thinking again..
'What did they do to me? Am I even human?'
~8~ ~8~ ~8~
Organized chaos. That was the only phrase that came to mind when Bran thought about what was going on around him. When he was involved with a mission they were to be executed quickly and concisely. Enemies and perpetrators of evil were to be round up, restrained and dealt with just a succinctly. Victims were to be found, treated, and evaluated. Though they were victims he had to determine what they knew about his world, and if they could be trusted to rejoin the human world. Yes his kind were out to the public, but he still had to protect his werewolves and secretes they still carried. It was his job as the Marrock to make the hard decisions.
But this, this was not the well-executed mission he had envisioned. The facility's doctors were being retained. They would be dealt with; whatever it was they were doing to their human guinea pigs would be revealed. It wasn't just the human experiments that enraged him. Werewolves were here too. They were being tortured by doctors. The so called doctors were desperate to find out how werewolves transformed, where their tremendous strength came from. How pack bonds worked. They were taking his wolves and killing them, in his backyard no less. This was his territory, and they weren't just encroaching they were invading and attacking. Many were going to die here, many more would be leaving here scarred for life.
As they continued to advance it became evident that wolves were not just victims of this facility. They were also perpetrators. They had captured several werewolves that had served as orderlies to the doctor, and jailors of the specimens, human or otherwise. The smell of blood and death cloaked the whole compound.
Finally things were coming under control. Fifteen werewolves were getting medical treatment; they would be debriefed and returned to their old lives. Seven humans found in medical containment were being quartered under the pretense of government evaluation to determine what had been done to them. In actuality Bran would later determine their level of knowledge, and hoped that they could be convinced to keep their mouths shut. He didn't want to victimize them more, but the safety of the wolves in this country was worth more than the lives of seven humans. The lives of thousands were at stake, if these humans could not cooperate their life would be forfeit.
But there was something else out there. Bran could feel it. It wasn't werewolf or human. It wasn't a witch, and for that he was grateful neither he nor his son wanted to deal with that one again. This other was not any kind of demon he knew of. It was different, something he was sure he'd never encountered before. He sent several of his wolves out to capture this creature, but it seemed to elude them quite easily. Was this creature a victim like so many others? Or did it actively participate in the atrocities that were performed here?
It could not be allowed to leave this place freely. This is his territory, his home to protect. He went out himself with the help of this son Charles to coral this creature. Now both were baffled, this creature was nowhere to be found… It was simply gone…
~8~ ~8~ ~8~
When Avery woke she was lying on her back and a strange face was directly over her. Startled she screamed and used her hands try to crawl away. Her hand found mud and water as she perplexed herself backwards.
"Please calm down miss, and ambulance is on the way!" The man urged her.
"Stay away!" She screamed at him.
"Your hurt, please calm down. An ambulance will be here soon, and they'll take you to a doctor."
"No, no doctors I don't want a doctor." She was getting weak again, tired.
"You'll be ok, they'll help you."
"Please, I don't.." Her voice trailed off as she fainted again.
Avery woke again with wires and tubes all over her. She was lying on white sterile sheets, had beeping machines all around her. Immediately she panicked. An older woman in scrubs came rushing to her.
"You're alright. It's safe here."
"Where am I?" Avery asked still in the grip of fear.
"You're at St. Peters Hospital, in Libby," the nurse answered.
"Libby?"
"Yes, Libby Montana."
"How did I get here?" Avery asked.
"You were hurt on the lake, an ambulance brought you in."
"No, how did I get to Montana? Why am I here?"
"I don't know hun. What's your name? Where are you from?"
Avery looked at the older woman. She considered answering that question, but quickly changed her mind. The old woman seemed nice, and this was clearly a hospital, but something made her uneasy. She didn't know how she had come several hundred miles across the country. This was not her home, not even her state. Why was she here, how did she get here? What happened that made her need to come to a hospital? Nothing made sense. All she did know was that her body ached, and her head hurt. To Avery a sore head indicated a head injury, and she could work with that. She was missing part of her past, but she didn't know how much. How long had she been in this bed anyway? Until she could figure out what was going on she would have to exaggerate her injury.
But there was more. She felt different. She felt like she knew things she couldn't really know.
Bunching up her nose and letting tears fall she replied, "I don't know."
"It's okay. We'll help you figure this out," the nurse replied comforting the young woman.