Nothing. It doesn’t move.
My hands move to the sides, mindlessly pushing, moving between the lid and the walls.
No, no, no.
The trembling moan bounces back at me from the walls as they close in.
“Help.”
My voice is a rasp, panic clawing at my throat as it closes up.
“Help me!”
I curl my hands around my knees and bury my face in them, trying desperately to suck in a breath.
Memories assault me, one after the other, until I can’t tell truth from reality.
Get in the hole, bitch.
Stay there until you’ve learned your place.
A good omega does as she’s told.
A good omega follows the Omega Creed.
The terror overtakes me until all I can do is let out tiny, panicked whimpers.
I try in vain to push one more time at the lid, but it remains stubbornly closed.
My nails scratch fruitlessly at the walls, scrambling until they tear.
But nothing happens. Nobody comes.
And the panic becomes all consuming.
ChapterThirteen
Hudson
“Hudson!”
I nearly drop the soap I’m using to scrub my hands.
“Yeah?” I ask, bracing as I turn to my sous chef. Veronica might be a beta, but she’s got more alpha energy than most. She plants a hand on her hips, the blonde hair piled untidily on her head bouncing as she gestures dramatically.
“He is in there in his robe again!” she hisses, her face scrunched up with irritation.
“Get him out. The staff can’t concentrate!”
Sighing, I dry my hands and brush past her, offering a consolatory pat to her shoulder.
“I’ll sort it,” I say reassuringly, and she huffs.
Entering the wide kitchen area, my eyes cut straight through the hustle of staff to where Nate is lounging in a seat, coffee mug outstretched with a charming smile on offer for Ella, who’s pouring the cup with a delighted smile on her face.
“Nate,” I growl. Ella jumps, spinning to face me.
“Hudson!” Her eyes dart from me to Veronica, pure guilt in them. “I was just helping Mr. Reyne with some coffee.”
