Page 47 of Rogue & Her Hunters
Does the warden want to shock Bird?
Kill him?
“She is protective of him already,” an eager, female voice says. “Fascinating. I didn’t expect that of a cold Alpha like her.”
Dr. Gill steps closer to the bars.
She is the Chief Beta scientist in the Facility, known as The Operator, even amongst the staff.
She performs the procedures on the Rogues like they are any experimental material, rather than living creatures.
All that matters to her is data collection.
Greco sneered at me in the first week that he hoped Ienjoyed my time with Op. You won’t last long with her. She doesn’t stop because she logs failed experiments; she doesn’t mourn them. Mr. Baskerville is on a mission. Op is simply following the science.
I find that more frightening.
I was raised amongst bad people.
Monsters.
And The Operator is a fucking monster.
Dr. Gill looks deceptively young and innocent, in her early thirties. Her ginger hair is pulled back with unicorn clips. Her nose is dusted with freckles.
She is dressed in a crisp, white coat, clutching a metal clipboard.
“Is this the subject you want to test this week, Op?” Dr. Baskerville points at me.
Bile rushes up my throat.
Dr. Gill nods, enthusiastically. “If her pheromones are strong enough to keep Seventy-one alive all this time, then she is the perfect specimen to help complete our experiments. Statistically, he should have died. I will need to study how he survived.”
I don’t move.
My pulse is roaring in my ears, but I blank my expression.
I use every trick I have not to show how much her saying that she intends to study how Bird survived terrifies me.
She says it like she’ll cut him open.
What are her mysterious experiments? Why are they so important to Mr. Baskerville? I do know that they can’t be good.
“I ordered you to roll him off the mattress,” Mr. Baskerville repeats, as if he’s not ordering me to make it easier for my Omega to be tortured. “Do I need to make it clearer to you that if you disobey us while you are out of your cell, then your Omega will be electrocuted?”
I shake my head.
I understand.
Bird is my weakness.
He is the shock collar around my neck that they intend to use to force me to behave.
I grit my teeth, before I bend down and lightly place my hands on Bird’s shoulders, which are covered by the blanket.
I can feel the tremors that are running through him.
“Sorry,” I whisper, gently rolling him onto the cold floor. “I’ll be back soon, my Bird.”
