Land of Wolves

Chapter 63

My lips crack and bleed as I open my mouth and stretch my jaw. The muscles on either side hurt from clenching, and I wince as I let out a quiet yawn.

Adam yanks my hair, his movements rough as he struggles to learn how to braid. He's not doing a very good job at it, and his finger gets caught in a knot a second later. My head jostles as he wiggles his hand trying to pry his finger loose, the motion painful.

It's been two days since Dan came here with his teary goodbye, and I'm getting impatient. If HPAW's going to kill me, I'd like them to get it over with already.

This wait is killing me.

"Your hair is knotty, and the grease makes it clumpy," Adam admits.

I shrug, not having the energy to be offended or embarrassed.

We haven't been given food or water since Dan's visit, and Adam's been taken from the room twice for more testing. His removals are the only way I've been able to keep track of the time, and he told me the clock in the room they take him to confirms he's being brought in once a day.

His hands shake now, a tremor he developed after he returned yesterday.

Adam's always shaky for a few hours after they take him, his muscles weak as his body heals, but the effects have never lasted this long before. His body's struggling to recover, and the shaking was so bad he couldn't even communicate with Caleb last night.

I still have no idea what they're saying to one another, but the conversations have been painfully short.

They spoke for what felt like hours that first night, but now Caleb's pulling away after only five minutes.

Has he told Caleb that HPAW's planning to kill me?

A part of me hopes he has, but another part of me doesn't. I know Caleb loves me, but I don't want him to do anything rash.

Adam continues attempting to braid my hair, and once he reaches the end, he makes a makeshift knot and moves away. I'm pretty sure he's ripped at least six strands out of my head, but I don't mind. It's a small price to pay to have my hair out of my face.

"Thank you," I say.

I fight the urge to reach up and prod at the chip in my skin. I still can't believe it's there, and thinking about it fills me with dread.

I've betrayed the wolves, and I'm the reason Adam's in this mess in the first place. It was stupid not to consider the possibility that HPAW had chipped me, and it was a colossal misjudgment on my end not to have remembered they were working on creating one.

Does Adam blame me? If I were him, I most definitely would.

None of this would've happened if it weren't for my thoughtlessness.

My fingers twitch, and I scootch back on the bed and lean against the wall. Adam follows, copying me and looking up at the ceiling. I'm too weak to do much anymore, and most of my time is spent staring at nothing.

Occasionally I'll switch positions when my butt goes numb, but that's about it.

My fingers bleed where I pick at them, but I ignore the pain and continue scratching my hangnails. Adam would stop me the first few days we were in here, but now he doesn't so much as bat an eye when my nails burrow into my skin.

He taps his toes against the ground, maybe counting to keep track of time, but I don't ask.

It doesn't matter.

A quiet buzzing fills the room, and I am hardly surprised when Adam's back is in front of me a second later.

He's an excellent guard dog, and I peer around him as four guards filter into the room. They point their weapons at Adam and me, the red dots covering our heads and chests.