Chapter 2 Ejection Day

Nova's Point of View

The cell was a cacophony of noise as I struggled to wake up. The relentless banging of the iron gate blended with savage growls, a sound that took me back to the night our pack was raided. "What's going on?" Emma muttered groggily as she rubbed her eyes. "It's Ejection Day, Alpha," Sandra, the girl in the cell next to ours, responded. She belonged to Emma's pack but held the rank of omega.

"What's Ejection Day?" I asked, curiosity creeping in despite the fear gripping me. "It's what they do after raiding a pack. They kill off the older prisoners to make space for new ones," Sandra's sick brother explained. A wave of dread washed over me at the thought of being discarded like trash. Emma quickly advised me to move to the back of the cell, to stay out of sight and avoid attracting attention. I obeyed, sticking close to her, the pain in my body ignored as I did.

Emma and I clung to each other in the cell, fear etched into our faces. The air felt thick with tension, our panicked whispers bouncing off the cold walls. I could feel Emma trembling as she held onto me, and I squeezed her hand in return, both of us finding solace in our shared terror.

"How do they decide who to kill?" I managed to ask, though my throat was tight with anxiety. "It's random. They look for the injured, the sick, or anyone who's caused trouble," Sandra answered quietly. My heart thudded painfully as I glanced at her, watching her hold her brother close. Even in this hellish place, my heart ached for her.

"Nova," Emma's voice was soft but firm, "keep your head down, and we'll be fine." I nodded, my fists clenching and unclenching as I tried to shake the overwhelming fear. But the look in Emma's eyes told me she was just as scared as I was.

"They should be almost finished," Sandra whispered, glancing down the hall. The sound of heavy boots echoed ominously, accompanied by the clink of metal restraints. Guards were leading wolves out of the cells, their faces grim and defeated. Some had the look of defiance, others of resignation. The muffled protests and pleas for mercy lingered in the air like ghosts.

It seemed they had taken half of the prisoners already. Some fought back, some begged, while others accepted their fate in silence. I tried to calm my erratic breathing, imagining myself on a battlefield, wondering if I could face a ruthless Alpha and survive. "We'll all be fine," Emma repeated, but her words offered little comfort.

That same sense of doom that hit me when our pack was attacked settled deep in my gut. "How many more do we need?" I heard a soldier ask. "Just a few more," another voice responded. They were getting closer to our cell, their boots hitting the stone floor with a sharp echo. "Soso already rounded up the sick and injured ones, and the troublemakers are gone," the second soldier added.

I watched as Sandra clutched her brother tighter, her tear-streaked face reflecting the panic we all felt. "The troublemakers wouldn't have fought for us anyway," one of the soldiers said dismissively as they came to our cell and opened the door.

I kept my head down as instructed, hoping they wouldn't notice me. The guards yanked a woman, likely in her mid-fifties, from the cell. She fought them fiercely, but it didn't matter-they overpowered her with ease. Then, one of the soldiers moved to Sandra's cell and reached for her brother.

Sandra and her brother clung to each other desperately, but it was a losing battle. His sickness had weakened him too much to resist. As they dragged him away, Sandra's cries tore through the air, reverberating off the cold stone walls. Her hands reached out in vain, grasping at nothing but air as her brother was ripped from her arms.

I remembered Sandra's stories about their childhood, the love their parents shared, and the bond of their pack. She spoke of the lake they used to visit as children, where they'd spend hours chasing fireflies and building forts. That place had been her sanctuary, a world away from this nightmare.

Now, her screams of anguish echoed through the halls as they took her brother away. She collapsed, her voice breaking into sobs before fading into unconsciousness, overwhelmed by the pain of her loss. The silence that followed was deafening.

As the guards stopped in front of the cell, I noticed one of them eyeing a tall, imposing figure standing at the back. The man's presence alone was enough to silence the murmurs of the prisoners. He was a werewolf, tall and broad-shouldered, his eyes glowing with defiance even in the dim light of the cell. His name was David.

"You, come out of there," the guard barked, pointing at him.

David didn't move, his eyes narrowing at the guard. "What if I don't want to?" he said, his voice low and filled with challenge.

The guard smirked, clearly amused but not intimidated. "Oh, you don't want to know what will happen if you don't."

David stepped forward, muscles tense as if ready to explode. "Let's fight and see who wins," he said, his confidence unwavering.

The guards exchanged glances as the head guard strode over, his heavy boots echoing off the walls. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice gruff.

The guards quickly explained the standoff, and after a brief pause, the head guard grinned darkly. "Release him," he commanded, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Let's see how good he really is."

The cell door swung open, and David stepped out, towering over the guards. I could see the tension in his body, the readiness to fight in every movement. The guard squared up to him, his stance aggressive, but David remained calm, his fists clenched at his sides.

Without warning, the fight began. David lunged forward, his fist colliding with the guard's jaw with a sickening crack. The guard stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face before he retaliated with a punch of his own. David dodged it easily, his movements quick and calculated. He struck again, this time landing a punch to the guard's ribs, and I could hear the impact from where I stood.

David was winning. Every punch he threw was precise, powerful. The guard was struggling to keep up, his attacks growing desperate. A surge of hope rose in my chest as I watched David fight with the strength of someone who had nothing left to lose.

But then, it all changed.

The guard, clearly realizing he was losing, reached into his belt and pulled out a silver blade. My heart froze as I saw the glint of the blade in the dim light. David didn't notice it in time. As he landed another punch, the guard plunged the silver blade into David's chest, right at his heart.

The world seemed to stop.

David's eyes widened in shock, his body freezing in mid-motion. The guard twisted the blade cruelly, and a pained howl erupted from David's throat, echoing off the walls. He collapsed to his knees, clutching at his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The cry of David's death rang in my ears, chilling me to my core. The sight before me was unbearable. His once-strong figure crumpled on the floor, blood pooling beneath him as his life slipped away. The silver blade had done its work, and there was no saving him.

I couldn't look away. The guards stood over him, their expressions indifferent, as if his death meant nothing. The brutality of it all twisted my stomach, and I could feel my own fear rising, knowing that there was no mercy here.

"Drag him out." The head guard said as his subordinate obeyed immediately. David's body was dragged out like an animal. As the guards was about to leave, "You at the back." Another guard said directing his call to our cell.

"The one in black hair." The guard said, pointing towards Emma. Emma was afraid as she squeezed my hands very tight.

Just then, I did something I never thought I would do, something I never imagined I could have courage to do.

I glanced up at the guards, my heart racing. The second soldier turned toward us, and suddenly, I couldn't stop myself.

Before the first guard realized what was happening, I lunged. My fist connected hard with his face, sending him staggering back. Fueled by desperation, I followed with more strikes, but my strength was no match for him. With one swift motion, he grabbed me and slammed me into the concrete. Pain shot through my body as darkness closed in.

The last thing I saw was the look of horror on Emma's face, her screams piercing the air as the soldiers dragged me out of the cell. As the darkness consumed me, I found myself wishing I would never wake up.