Chapter 134: Jailbirds And Party Animals

Lorali Pov

The glass divider between us was smudged with old fingerprints, cold and unyielding against the fluorescent buzz of the visitors’ room.

I sat back in the metal chair, resting my chin in my hand, waiting patiently. This wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. My original timeline called for letting Oracle rot in this fortress of concrete and iron for at least another week.

But over the last seven days, the physical reality of a rejected bond had laid its brutal ground rules.

The burning agony over my collarbone was no longer just a sudden, passing spasm, it was becoming a dull, continuous fire that radiated straight into my shoulder blade, stealing my focus on the ice.

And even though it’s still not at the height of its pain I remember the height of its pain I still refuse to take this.

During yesterday’s figure-skating practice, a sudden tremor of phantom heat had caught me mid-spin, sending me skidding sideways into the padded rink wall. If it was this bad now, a week from today I wouldn’t even be able to lift my arms, let alone execute a double axle. My body was violently demanding proximity to the Alpha who rejected it, and I refused to let his pathetic existence ruin my athletic career.

A heavy iron lock clicked open on the opposite side of the room. The reinforced door swung inward, and Oracle stepped into the frame.

The moment his dark eyes landed on me, he stopped dead in his tracks. A wash of raw, agonizing emotion flooded his features, a sickening mixture of grief, utter heartbreak, and a depth of guilt so profound it looked almost physical. His chest heaved. He made a sharp, instinctual move to turn around and bolt right back down the hallway, unable to face me.

"Step inside and take a seat, inmate," the guard standing behind him barked.

The guard, a Masintosh pack snitch they quietly bribed through a third-party channel, blocked the doorway with a sneer, slapping a heavy hand against Oracle’s shoulder and shoving him forward into the room. The iron door slammed shut behind him, locking with a definitive, echoing thud.

Oracle stood frozen for a long second, his head bowed, before slowly turning around. His steps were hesitant, dragging against the concrete floor as he walked toward the chair opposite mine. He slid into the seat, keeping his eyes glued to the metal table between us, unable to meet my gaze.

I leaned back, resting my arms over my chest, and took him in.

"You look like absolute hell," I remarked smoothly, my voice as cold as ice.

He was a mess. Split lip, a purple, swollen bruise purpling his left cheekbone, and a slight hunch in his posture that meant at least two of his ribs were cracked. Fresh cuts lined his knuckles, and his uniform was torn at the collar. I wasn’t shocked in the slightest. What Oracle didn’t know—and what I planned on taking with me straight to hell—was that I had personally arranged for several high-profile felons he had thrown behind bars during his time as the Spade Enforcer to be transferred into his exact cell block.

They were giving him the royal ’jailhouse special’ beating on a daily basis.

Before I could even lay out my terms, Oracle’s shoulders began to tremble. A single tear escaped his eye, cutting a clean path through the dirt and dried blood on his cheek.

"Lorali..." he choked out, his voice raspy, completely broken. He finally forced himself to look up, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I am... I am so sorry. I know those words are meaningless. I know they don’t erase a single second of the agony I put you through. When I got those medical books... when I read about the venom, the black veins, the sheer, unimaginable horror of what my rejection did to your body... I wanted to rip my own heart out of my chest."

He pressed his hands together against the glass, his knuckles trembling.

"There is no excuse," he continued, his voice dropping into a desperate, heart-wrenching tremor that could have brought a lesser omega to her knees. "I was blind. I was arrogant. I let my duty to the pack obscure the most precious, sacred thing the moon goddess ever handed me. I destroyed you, Lorali. I tore your life apart, and every night I lie on the floor of this cell, I pray to the moon goddess that she inflicts every ounce of that physical and mental torment back onto me tenfold. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. I am a monster, and I will regret what I did to you until my very last breath."

It was a staggering, deeply emotional speech. It was the kind of raw, tear-soaked confession that belonged in a romantic tragedy, full of poetic regret and absolute devastation.

Inside my head, I almost burst out laughing.

Oh my, I thought, staring at his pathetic, tear-stained face. How hard did those guys hit him in the head yesterday? He must be absolutely delusional if he thinks I’m buying this circus act.

Did he genuinely feel guilty? Sure. The medical books had clearly shattered his fragile little ego. But did I care? Not even a fraction of a percent. His remorse didn’t undo my scars, and it certainly wasn’t going to buy him absolution. "Take your bullshit apology," I said, leaning forward until my face was inches from the smudged glass, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper, "and stick it straight up your ass."

Oracle flinched as if I’d struck him across the face.

"You make me sick," I continued softly, watching him shrink under my glare. "Your tears are embarrassing, and your very existence on this earth is a daily annoyance to me. Do not ever speak to me about sacred bonds or regret again."

"Lorali, please," he rasped, fresh tears spilling over his lashes. "Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything. Anything to prove how desperately sorry I am. Just name it."

"Good," I said, tilting my head. "Because from this moment on, you are my dog on a short, tight leash. You will be near me at all times. From those heavy medical books you’ve been weeping over, I’m sure you’re well aware that my body requires your physical proximity to neutralize the bond pain. So you will stay close to ensure I am never in agony again."

"I will," Oracle said instantly, nodding frantically. "I’ll do it. I’ll stay as close as you need me to."

"Let’s get one thing straight," I added, tapping my manicured nail against the glass divider. "You do not belong to yourself anymore. You belong to me. You are my accessory. If there is ever a dispute between me and anyone in the Spade pack, or anyone else on this entire planet, you defend me. You do not question me. You listen to me. Your entire world now revolves around my comfort and my desires."

Oracle swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, but he didn’t hesitate. "Yes. Whatever you command, Lorali. I am yours."

"And remember this," I warned, leaning back with a dark, lethal smile. "If you ever betray me, or if you ever step out of line, best believe I will put you in a matching wheelchair right beside Yurena. Do you understand me?"

"I understand," he whispered, his head bowed in absolute submission. "Good. You’re getting out of jail tomorrow morning. I’m taking you out."

Oracle blinked, looking up in mild confusion. "Wait... the bail documents... is there anything I need to sign? I refused the attorney earlier—"

"I don’t need your signature," I cut him off, standing up smoothly and smoothing down the front of my jacket. "I already have your signature on the High Court release forms. It’s handled." Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel and walked out of the visitation room, my high heels clattering loudly against the concrete floor.

Yes, high heels. A single week of spending time with Astrid had completely corrupted my wardrobe, transforming me into a mini-Astrid, so she got tired of sharing her clothes so she just bought me a whole new wardrobe . I was wearing flared trousers, a sharply tailored blazer, and three-inch leather boots. It took some time getting used to these types of shoes that are painful.

As I pushed through the heavy metal exit doors into the crisp air, my phone vibrated violently in my coat pocket. I pulled it out and checked the screen.

Astrid:

RALI! Emergency! Massive underground warehouse party tonight in the industrial district! Shirtless DJs, flashing lasers, and free champagne! You are coming or I am burning down the penthouse!

I smiled, my thumb flying across the screen. Everyday was a different location, which I agreed to because I did not want to spend time in the penthouse while Walters was in heat.

Me:

Relax, I’ll be there. Pick me up at eight.

Astrid:

YESSS! Prepare to lose your mind! 🎉🔥

I slipped the phone back into my pocket, feeling a light, genuine flutter of amusement. I had somehow morphed into full-blown partying partners in crime over the last few days, and honestly, it was the best distraction I’d had in months.

I walked down the broad concrete steps toward the parking lot, where one of Torin’s luxury black SUVs was parked under the shade of a maple tree. Since the prison was entirely too far from the nearest city bus line, I’d simply commandeered one of the Spade pack’s fleet vehicles for my personal use.

Technically, my driver’s license was issued from the Thali Country territories, and I had absolutely no idea if it was legally valid in this city, but I frankly couldn’t care less. Nobody was stopping me, anyway.

I unlocked the SUV with a sharp beep and climbed into the plush leather driver’s seat. Glancing at my reflection in the rearview mirror, I ran a hand through my long hair. It was looking a bit dull after weeks of intense skate training and stress.

"This is giving me flashbacks to when I was on that descenting shampoo, I need to get my hair done." I murmured to myself, turning the ignition key and listening to the powerful V8 engine roar to life.

As I backed the massive vehicle out of the prison parking space and smoothed onto the highway heading back toward the city, the phantom ache in my shoulder blade felt remarkably light. Soon, Oracle would be out of his cell and firmly under my thumb, serving as my personal human shield and leash-bound dog.

Tonight, however, belonged entirely to me, Astrid, and a terrible decision at a warehouse party.