3 | Humpty Dumpty

*** Nailo’s POV

"Still alive... fuck." The thought flitted through my mind the moment I realized I was conscious. I didn’t dare move. My senses stretched to their limits, I tried to keep my heartbeat steady, listening intently, trying to detect any signs of life around me. Was I alone? Or were they still here, waiting?

Slowly, I became aware of my surroundings. I wasn’t cold or wet, and, to my surprise, I wasn’t naked. The tips of my fingers brushed against something soft beneath me, smooth but with a slight graininess. Cotton linen? The realization jarred me; this wasn’t the damp, filthy floor of my cell.

The room was dark. The blackness behind my eyelids told me as much. But the air... it smelled different. Gone was the stench of infection and rot that had been my constant companion. Instead, I detected something medicinal—eucalyptus? But there was something else, something bitter and ominous... Wolfsbane. The faint smell of burnt flesh and the metallic tang of blood hung in the air.

Oh God. I was in the infirmary.

Panic surged, memories flooding back in an unstoppable wave. The last time I was here, they had forcefully aborted my pup. Then the triplets had taken turns using the same tools savagely inside me. Their Alpha mother had come in several times, reviving me with her blood, never forgiving me for trying to reject her sons. I had seen them force themselves on the orphaned girls after they took over my pack. When they recognized me as their mate, I tried to reject them, knowing it would likely kill me. I’d hoped it would weaken them too, enough that someone could kill them.

I pushed the horrific memories down, forcing them deep into the recesses of my mind. Since the triplets forced their mate mark on me, they could sense my thoughts. I couldn’t give them the satisfaction of my fear, or the knowledge that I was awake. I had to stay calm, keep my mind as blank as possible.

I could sense no one was near. Slowly, I opened my eyes just a little, inspecting the area around me. I was definitely in the palace infirmary. I scanned the room, noticing the other patients in their beds, their breathing steady, eerily quiet. The few times I’d been to the infirmary, it had reeked of fear and blood. Never death, though—the royal family didn’t believe in death. Prisoners came to the infirmary to be healed, just so they could be tortured and brought to the brink of death all over again.

The smell hit me again, that of burnt flesh—no, it was food, lined up buffet-style on a table at the back of the room. I couldn’t even remember the last time I smelled cooked food. It was bizarre. This entire scene was wrong.

My eyesight hasn't been this good since... since my wolf left me, or died. None of my senses had been reliable since the triplets began ‘courting’ me. And yet, I could see it clearly despite the darkness in the room.

I didn’t fully understand the scene around me but there were no guards. This could be my chance.

Slowly, I lifted my hand, testing the strength of my shackles... but there were no shackles. No collar either. I carefully turned my neck, stretched my ankles, realizing with growing dread that for the first time in forever, I felt no pain.

The realization was terrifying. I knew instantly they were toying with me. I had been ready to die, had welcomed it, but death hadn’t come. I was still here, and so were they, with a new method of torture. When would the games end?

No more games. I was going to die here anyway—let it be on my terms. My eyes locked onto the supply cubby across the room. My first time in the infirmary, the ‘healer’ had pulled a vial from that cubby, a vial of liquid wolfsbane.

This was before the triplets marked me—they had given the healers permission to use me as they saw fit. The pack healer had been quite the chatterbox, he explained everything he did in very specific detail. One of his favorite experiments was to test the absorption and affliction rates of wolfsbane on different parts of the body.

He even wanted to see how it would absorb in my cunt, with and without cum. He’d been more than happy to supply the cum himself.

I shivered at the thought, a visceral reaction shaking me to my core. The memories of those two months as his personal cum receptacle brought a wave of nausea. My body reacted violently, and I lurched over the side of the bed, vomiting as the memories threatened to bring the pain back to life.

The noise I made—shit—I was sure someone would have heard it. I had to move, had to get to that cubby before they came.

Slipping on my own vomit, I fell and then I scrambled back up to get to the cubby, the sounds of a stirring patient somewhere in the room urging me on. Reaching the cubby, I was surprised at my own strength as I ripped the lock off, it shouldn’t have broken that easily. But then I heard something in the hall.

I frantically rummaged through the cabinet, my hands shaking. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Instinct took over. I flung the hand off, throwing myself back at whoever was behind me, knocking them off balance. It worked, and at last, I saw it—the vial. A deep inky purple liquid with an iridescence reminiscent of the moon’s glint off a still lake at night.

Grabbing the vial, I slipped away from the person I’d knocked over, darting to a dark corner of the room, desperately trying to unscrew the cap. My fingers fumbled, almost dropping it. The liquid spilled onto my lap and skin. Desperately, I tried to scoop what I could into my hands to salvage what I could.

Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, my arms restrained in a strong but not cruel hold.

“You don’t have to,” a voice said soothingly, but I didn’t trust it. It was all part of their games. I planted my feet and pushed back with all my strength, knocking them off balance. The door was open—I bolted, deftly jumping over the first person who’d approached me at the cubby. They were covered in bandages—were they a patient?

God, I felt good. Nothing hurt. I couldn’t ever remember feeling like this—almost refreshed. But then the drowsiness started. The wolfsbane had absorbed through my skin.

I had maybe ten minutes before it overtook me, but I had to try. I had to live—or die—on my terms.

I followed the scent of flora and cool air. After what felt like an eternity, I was hit by a wave of winter air.

Instinctually, I turned toward it, finding myself pushing through a broken old door and into an open courtyard. It was unkempt, abandoned.

Behind me, I could hear people approaching.

Looking ahead, I saw the stone wall and, beyond it, trees in the distance. I ran toward it, determined. This was my chance, even if it was my last.

I heard footsteps closing in. I picked up my pace, giving it everything I had left. With one last prayer, I jumped, up and over the wall. Looking down, I was surprised—happily—that the fall wasn’t all that high. Maybe, just maybe, I’d make it.