Chapter 16: Breaking Point

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Chapter 16

Breaking Point

 

~Ranger

 

“Identification tag.” The man handed the band back to me.

“And?” I spun it around in my finger.

The man sighed and looked at his computer screen. “There’s a trigger in it. I go any deeper, and it’ll activate.”

“So?” I put the band on the desk and pushed it to him. “Tell me what it says.”

“Information is encrypted.”

“Un-encrypted,” I snapped.

Man looked up at me. “You need the alpha’s permission, before I go any further.”

“Useless, you’re all useless,” I muttered, snatching the bracelet and marching out the door. I slammed the door, causing the surrounding furniture to shake. Even if Trevor said no, I’d go outside the pack to find out what was embedded in that chip.

 

***

 

~Shiloh

 

The door clicked, and I looked around the darkened room. The lights flipped on, and Becca hurried over.

“How are you today?”

“Good,” I rolled onto my side, my tail flicking back and forth.

She smiled and reached through the bars to scratch my head. “I found a way to get you out.”

“Really?” I jumped up and nearly shifted.

Becca gave me knowing glance. “We talked about that.”

“Sorry.” I laid down and poked my nose through the bars. “How?”

“You see our little friend over there.” She pointed at an owl. “He’s being released tonight, but a paperwork mistake going to make them take you.” Becca grabbed my chin. “ Do not let them know what you are, even if it doesn't work. We’ll find another way, so play along. If you do get out, I’ll be waiting in my car nearby the release point. Think you’ll be able to find me?”

I shrugged. “I’m an omega. I’m not as good at tracking as the others.”

She shook her head. “I’ll bring a treat with me. You’re favorite, think you’ll be able to smell that.”

Fresh meat, my tail went crazy. “Yes,” I yipped.

“Alright, be good until then.” She stood. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I nodded and watched her leave the room. Curling into a ball, I hoped this worked. I was ready to be free from these bars.

 

***

~West

 

My chin resting on the table, I stared across at the sub, who was picking at his food.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

My head fell to the side. “You’re usually excited on chicken day, for some odd reason.” I poked at the remaining food on my plate. “I’m a red meat guy myself.”

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