Free Broken Blood by Heather Hildenbrand

It was the fight to keep her out of his head. Within minutes of the blood transfusion, I’d felt the darkness that signaled Steppe’s arrival into my awareness. The black cloud that made up Steppe’s mental capacity was so much worse than Nick or Janie or any of my pack before this. It was smarter for one, cunning even, and it had purpose: me.
    It wanted the alpha spot and I’d be damned if I gave it up. From the second the blood bond had taken effect, we’d been battling—and I wasn’t about to concede.
    Astor came to check on me once and managed to slip me some more drugs. The pills kept me sedated enough that my thoughts were inaccessible through the night. But now, I was awake, and Gordon Steppe was pressing into my awareness like water through a thin sheet.
    He wanted to merge. My head hurt and my chest pounded with the effort of keeping him at bay. I lay down, pulling my knees to my chest, and curled into a tight ball. It probably wasn’t an effective way conserve my strength to huddle this way, but I pretended it did some good.
    Across the room, the lock turned over with a click and the door opened. I rolled over, expecting Astor again, but it was Mr. Lexington instead. He was shaved and dressed in a gray suit and, for once, his strange scent didn’t knock me over upon arrival. Something was different. I sniffed. He smelled like fresh air that could only have come from his being outside this place.
    I sat up when he came close. He offered me the mug in his hand. “Drink this,” he said.
    “What is it?” I asked as I reached for it, but he didn’t bother to answer.
    I stared into the murky white liquid inside the little cup. It looked like watered-down milk, but I knew better. Nothing they’d done to me or asked of me was as pleasant as that. I’d been poked and prodded, smacked and shoved. But the worst was the bond trying to shove its way from my veins to my brain. I’d choose physical assault over this type of warfare any day.
    Mr. Lexington sneered while I hesitated and I didn’t need a bond to tell me that he was clearly hoping I’d refuse the drink so he could do whatever necessary to forcibly convince me. No way could I stand up to that and block out the bond trying to shove its way in. And he knew it.
    I hesitated a little longer but, in the end, I took the shot.
    The liquid was cold and sickly sweet in my mouth. It felt fuzzy—almost like champagne bubbles in my stomach. Warmth spread from my belly to my chest and then it dissipated and I felt like me again.
    Mr. Lexington took the empty cup and gestured for me to follow. “Come on. Mr. Steppe wants a word,” he said.
    “I’m not dressed,” I said, gesturing to the sweatpants and long-sleeved tee I was still wearing from last night.
    “Luckily it’s not a formal event,” he said. “Come on.”
    I followed him out the door and fell into step behind him with two armed guards behind me. Not that I planned to try anything. My entire focus was on keeping Gordon out and myself conscious. There wasn’t anything left for an escape attempt. I barely noticed the state of my surroundings as we made our way back to the clinic.
    Astor greeted us just inside the door. He wrung his hands when he spotted me. “Goodness gracious. You’re here.”
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “Nothing. You’re here,” he repeated. His left brow twitched twice as often as he blinked.
    “Yes,” I said slowly. “And so is Steppe and ... Olivia,” I said by way of greeting as I spotted the group assembled.
    Steppe and a healthy-looking Olivia stood at the center of the room, halfway between the empty rows of cots and the metal cages. Behind them, along the wall, stood a row of guards. All armed. All with matching expressions of blind obedience. And Steppe thought my pack was a bunch of lap dogs.
    “Tara, how are you feeling?” Gordon asked. Something stabbed at the edges of my thoughts, a silent inquiry to go along with the question, and I