The Unmates

The Eleventh

A spoonful of something clashed against my teeth on the way to my mouth. Its content sprawled all over my cleanest shirt forcing goosebumps on my skin as the coldness reached past the thin fabric.

A crackling laugh made me look up. Trevor held the shaking spoon, throwing the remains that were not on me, everywhere else. "I'm sorry, Miss," he said when his obnoxious laugh allowed him to speak again.

"It's all good, Trevor. It's just a shirt," I said with a smile. His cackle started again. Yeah, it was just a shirt... my cleanest shirt —my only shirt.

The next spoonful found itself clashing against my cheek, and the next one against my nose. It was a daily occurrence in which the clumsy spoon had a hard time finding my mouth. Out of the shallow plate, I often managed to get a couple of them. If I was lucky.

After the plate was empty and my shirt fully covered in what looked like vomit, Trevor left. His laugh still strong enough to be heard after the door was closed. My cellmates sighed. Yes, finally, I agreed with them.

They all hated it. But they tried to ignore it, feeling grateful that they were allowed to feed themselves. All of their plates were now empty. I didn't need to look to know this. Trevor not only fed me little food, but his damn laugh made the process painfully slow. The other prisoners were famished by the time any food was given to them so it would only last them a few seconds, not that they would wait for me if that was not the case.

A loud thump interrupted my thoughts. My cellmates all looked to each other to confirm the sound had been real. I guess I was doing the same. I shifted my gaze toward the door. I could hear the rest of the men shifting towards the back of the cell. The small curvaceous space in the left side of the cell hid me from the light and from any newcomer. That was my space in this place and everyone knew this. It had a perfect view towards the door but the shadow made by the rocks above me make it impossible to be seen from the outside.

The door suddenly burst open and not even the fact that I was expecting it made me immune to flinching. A tall man strode inside and I did not know him.

"Haze?" He said.

The power in his voice rumbled deep inside me. Speaking to my wolf side. His voice held the command of an Alpha, so why didn't I know him?

"Oden?" Answered a man inside the cell. Only when he spoke was I able to feel his power as well, as if he had been holding to it tight, hiding it until his friend had spoken.

My eyes followed the sound of the voice towards a man sitting close to my right just outside my sad cave. He had arrived only yesterday so he must be someone important to have been found so fast. With the amount of power I now felt, it wasn't surprising. He had spoken so softly I was sure no one else heard him, but the man outside moved instantly. He had heard him. Soft muttering overcame the cell as my cellmates noticed the jingling keys in the man's hand. The keychain was big, and the amount of keys it had was bound to keep the man at his job for a while.

When the third key failed to open the door the prisoners were becoming too restless to be cautious. Murmurs turned into full out anxious exchanges and nervous fidgets became unstoppable pinballs crashing against the cell walls and against each other.

I struggled to make a decision. I longed to help but the risk was grand. By the time the four key failed I knew what I had to do.

Silently, I moved my body so my head was next to Haze's. He did not seem to notice me, his focus solely on the man outside, Odin.

"The eleventh," I whispered softly in his ear making him jump. The man with the keys looked up to what had happened but I was already back in my hiding spot, unseen.