Yet it was Lucia who kept it civil.
“Ladies, this is our Commodorina, Brenya Havel. And we are here to serve her. Aren’t we, ladies? All queens need their court.” Spoken as the taller, far more social female pulled Brenya under her wing. “So we will start anew. After all, if we fight,theywin. We cannot let them win,” said with a smirk, a knowing one.
And Brenya did not understand, nor did she grasp just why looking at the blonde who’d flirted with Jacques before they were even mated made her want to rip the woman’s hair out. “Them?”
“Jacques. Commodore Havel.” Explained without her regular disdain, blunt and a little threatening as Lucia narrowed her eyes. “Females organize and run society, Commodorina. Males see to the administration of it. Central grew so broken because Beta females cannot rule Alpha males. I’m not saying it’s not unfair; I’m merely stating facts. You cannot let the man walk all over you. We stand together, and they learn their place. Then… families thrive.Babies live. Everyone enjoys great sex. We are going to teach you this. No, don’t look at his creepy guards. They can tattle all they want. It won’t make a difference. And you will make Commodore Havel listen to you today. Yes?”
The black-clad guards who had been glued to her since she’d been dragged from the Red Room all stared forward as if deaf. But they were there. They were armed. And they were definitely listening.
And Brenya might have been inexperienced in a world of Lucias, but she was not stupid enough to fall for this. “No, Lucia.”
Jules would not take orders from her, and if Lucia thought he would, she was wrong.
A perfect black eyebrow arched, playful and inviting, challenge flashing as Lucia dipped her lashes. “Do you not enjoy sex, Brenya? I can teach you that too. I might as well, since I’m teaching Jacques.” A flirtatious shrug. “Why do you think I wasthe one chosen to partner your Alpha? Commodorina, I excel at sex. You do not.”
It hit a nerve, Jacques’s disappointed voice in her head. Face hot, Brenya shook her head, a silent refusal of the lesson. And then came a wave of such sadness Brenya thought she might cry.
Pretty Lucia would know how to do those things…. She would like what Jacques did…. She would earn his praise when she performed up to expectation.
“Brenya, there is power in embracing what you are,” said much more softly, as if Lucia had not meant the blow to land so hard.
Brenya slumped into the nearest chair, head in her hands, as her foot jittered against the floor. “No. I’m not like you.”
“No, you’re not like me. I had Ancil eating out of the palm of my hand after one night.”
“That is inaccurate. He kept you locked away and resentful. You exaggerate your influence, and that’s why you brought me here.” It wasn’t said with malice, Brenya didn’t work that way. But she absolutely struck a nerve, Lucia scowling as Brenya muttered, “You might be superior at sexual congress, and you might be experienced with politics, but I am the you keep pressuring for favors. And I am the one who will refuse.”
There was a moment of silence, and then there was hysteria—the Omegas collected façade unsustainable when confronted with Brenya’s deficiencies and perceived coldness.
“This ridiculous woman is who you think can help us?” It was the blonde who’d hung all over Jacques again, who’d given her all and still failed to win his favor. “Lucia, we’re doomed! How isthatgoing to be able to do anything? My younger sister was eleventh on the list of potentials for Bernard Dome, Lucia! She’s out there right now suffering Gods only knows what?—”
“So are at least two of mine!” Lucia snapped back. “So we keep our heads, and we… explain things to our Commodorina.It’s not her fault her brain is…. This is new to her, so we practice patience, hmm? We are the only other Omegas she’s ever met, and we were not exactly chosen for our gentleness, were we, girls? We were chosen for our ambition.So be nice.”
This was not the same Lucia from breakfast. This was not the woman from the elevator who had slapped her. There were no performative speeches or sneering threats. Not in that moment. She was floundering, but continued, “And Brenya here has been suffering separation sickness for weeks. Our Commodorina needs a proper meal; she needs sisterhood. Soweserve her, or we get nothing.”
A snap of her fingers and Lucia began issuing orders, urgent and just as rude to them as she had always been to Brenya.
It all happened so fast: Brenya forced to sit upright, pushed into the plush back of her chair, a tray set on her lap that had to be balanced or spoil Annette’s fine rug. A spoon to her lips, so many hands patting and feeding and smoothing her hair.
The females worked like one many-armed machine.
A pack.
Even humming Omega song as they shoved some kind of green fruit down her throat and pressed a cup of spiced tea to her lips.
All while Lucia orchestrated the attack. “No, not that one, Gertrude. Look at her face. She doesn’t like the taste. Try the other one, the melon. Hurry up, we don’t have all day.”
In especially poor French, a petite brunette asked, “Can we cut hair?”
“Gods, yes. It’s too heavy at the ends.” Lucia crooked her finger at another one of the women, calling her over to wield the scissors. “You should never grow it out, Commodorina. That neck needs to always be on display. Trust me on this. The more Commodore Havel sees the bite, the more he will obey.”
A snip and a hank of brown hair fell on Brenya’s lap, then another, the shock of what they were doing leaving Brenya wide-eyed and furious.
“No, Carmen. Do not remove her hideous outfit. That’s the Commodore’s blood. It stays on her. Her nails. They are sharp and bloody, clean them. No, no, do not let her feed herself. More tea. We keep this up until she needs to urinate. Let’s get all those hormones out of her system. I cannot imagine the headache you have right now, Commodorina. I told Jules he took it too far. You should have been taken to Jacques weeks ago. You’re his mate; demand he take better care of you!”
“Ouch! She bit me!” the blonde again… Gertrude… whined, sucking her finger to ease the sting.
In the midst of a nightmare of physical touch and overstimulation, the growl that came from Brenya’s chest, whatever that sound was, it made them stop.
