Okay, he thinks, and no other emotion rises up within him. No fear, no anger. Nothing.

He watches the blood spread along the ground. Someone will have to clean that up. It won’t be him. What a relief. To have this whole nightmare of an existence just be over.

And he doesn’t hurt all that much. There are definitely worse ways to go. Like Everest. Or drowning. Being held captive and getting tortured. At least he’s in his apartment.

At least it’s finally fucking over.

His brother Logan had managed to come out null—a unique designation that somehow meant he didn’t need to submit or dominate. Daniel came out not only submissive but so damn low on the submissive scale he’s heard a few people call him “prey.” They mutter it or speak in whispers. The doctors and his father don’t speak about it but it’s a disaster. If he were anyone else, he might have gone straight into a deep freeze or given to some Dominants as a chew toy at some far-flung base.

But he’s the son of an important man and so he has options other soldiers don’t. He can be experimented upon and improved while others can’t.

The last few years of his life have been one awful experiment after another. Can’t experiment on a dead submissive.

The pool of blood reaches his travel bag, soaking into the bottom. He’s been so sick he hasn’t even unpacked.

He closes his eyes and waits for the end.

2

Liam is awake when the call comes in to report to medical. It’s just after three a.m.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” he asks, voice rough from lack of sleep. He’s much too good at tossing and turning.

“Yes. But don’t use a neutralizing bodywash. It’s a submissive in crisis.”

“Got it, I’m on my way,” he says, and gets out of bed, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and then puts on the most comfortable sweats and softest t-shirt he owns. A submissive in crisis will be very sensitive to everything—including touch—and something like wool or denim would be too rough. The same with zippers or buttons.

Liam’s in medical ten minutes later. They’ve been waiting for him, a nurse hovering around the intake desk, and an extra guard in the corner of the room. He doesn’t know the night nurse on duty, but she must know him because she buzzes him back and tells him to go to room three.

The medical ward is fairly quiet. Most of the patients are seen during the day, and anyone seriously hurt will be transferred off base to a better equipped medical facility. A light flickers overhead as he walks down the hall and passes an empty nurses’ station with the computers all turned off.