Chapter 259: Freedom

"Ah, you little wretched beast! Giving her your food again!"

I watched in horror as a heavy, enraged man in a white lab coat burst into our small, stifling cell. Grabbing the young boy by his slender arm, he began striking him with brutal, backhanded slaps.

The boy fought back with a low, guttural growl, kicking with all his might against his tormentor’s shins. But against a full-grown man, the child was far too weak. With a contemptuous sneer, the doctor threw him hard against the wall.

"And as for you!"

With a furious roar, the man turned toward me. Cowering in terror, I looked up at him—he loomed over me like a towering monster, though perhaps I was simply so very small. In the next breath, he stepped over and seized my head in a harsh, bruising grip.

"Take his food one more time... even a single crumb... and I’ll put you down like a stray."

Trembling violently under the weight of his cruel threat, I squeezed my eyes shut. But a split second later, a shrill, agonized scream pierced the air, causing me to flinch. Opening my eyes, I gasped. The boy had sunk his sharp young teeth deep into the man’s arm, biting straight through skin to draw fresh blood. The doctor shrieked, letting go of me, as several guards and attendants rushed into the cell, desperately trying to pry the boy off his arm.

"He shouldn’t have his fangs yet! According to his test results, it’s far too early!" a woman’s grating, panicked voice shrieked, ringing in my ears like an alarm.

"Damian, if you don’t let him go... I’ll take her away from you!"

Only at that threat did the boy’s fiercely defensive growls begin to subside. Yet in my own chest, terror swelled so violently that my heart felt as though it had stopped beating altogether, cutting off the air to my lungs.

I was completely disoriented, unable to comprehend where I was or what was happening. Who were these cruel people? Why were they screaming? And why were they punishing us just for trying to protect each other?

"Amelie..."

A soft, familiar voice called out from above me. Looking around in confusion, I realized the terrifying room and doctors were gone. There was not a single scratch or bruise left on the boy standing beside me. Around us lay a lush green meadow, enclosed by a massive, impenetrable fence that seemed to stretch all the way up into the sky.

"Here. Take it."

A tiny white wildflower appeared before my eyes, held out in a sun-darkened, slender hand. His wrist was so thin that his delicate bones protruded beneath the skin. I wanted to ask him what was happening, but my body refused to obey my mind. Moved by an innate, comforting pull, my small hands reached out and took the blossom.

"It’s beautiful..." I whispered softly, lifting my head.

"Yeah, but you’re prettier."

"Prettier than a flower?" my child’s voice sounded delicate in the quiet air.

"No... like a bird," the boy murmured bashfully, ducking his head.

"Why a bird?" I asked, tilting my head slightly as I peered into his large, dark brown eyes fringed with thick lashes. In that moment, he seemed impossibly sweet to me.

"Because birds are free," he replied, his gaze suddenly filled with a seriousness that belied his age. Gently taking my hand into his own, he added, "And one day, I’m going to give you that freedom... not just a flower for your birthday."

"I love the flower, too," I whispered, squeezing his hand. "Because it came from you."

My heart raced once more, though this time not from paralyzing fear, but from a deeper, primal pull I couldn’t yet name. Glancing down, I saw that my hands were just as frail and thin as they had been in the vision.

The boy offered an encouraging smile and sat beside me on the grass. He unmistakably reminded me of someone, yet no matter how hard I strained my mind, I couldn’t place who. Nor could I fathom who either of us truly was.

He said something else, but all sounds began to drown in a thick, rolling fog.

What was happening to us?

"Amelie, wake up, little bird."

Little bird?

Forcing my heavy eyelids open with agonizing effort, I felt as wretched as a living creature possibly could. It felt as though a heavy stone roller had crushed every single bone in my body. Short of that, I couldn’t imagine what else could cause such searing, all-consuming pain.

Sweeping a hazy, unfocused gaze across the dim shadows of the hospital room, I tried to steady my racing pulse. Raising my weakened arms with immense strain, I made a pathetic attempt to lift myself slightly against the mattress.

"Put your hands around my neck."

At the husky, commanding timbre directly above me, I shuddered and froze. The next second, I saw Damian looming over me. He was frighteningly close, so that even through my blurred vision, I could distinguish every fleck of molten gold within his deep brown eyes, alongside the bruised, dark circles beneath them. His skin had turned an unhealthy, ash-gray shade, and his facial features were sharply drawn from exhaustion.

"S-step away," I rasped weakly, my throat burning raw. "I h-hate you."

"If you want to sit up, put your hands on my neck," the guy murmured with unnerving calmness, his heavy, possessive gaze locked onto my face.

"I’ll ch-choke you. Aren’t you scared?" I barely had any strength left for anger, yet a desperate fury still burned inside me.

Deep within, at the mere sight of his face, my soul tore into jagged fragments. The final, agonizing moments before I slipped into absolute darkness flared violently in my memory—those terrifying words.

"Mom, Dad..." sobbing convulsively, I felt hot tears spill over my eyelids.

"They went to get some rest. They’ll be back in a couple of hours," the young alpha replied in the same flat, steady tone.