I grab a plate and pile food onto it. I might as well eat if I have to sit here all day. The early morning activities with Jessica left me starving. I smile, remembering the feel of her body against mine, the way she took control and rode me. My cock jerks atthe sweet memory, but I need to tone it down and focus on this ridiculous game.
I find an empty table and pull out my phone to ward off unwelcomed disruption. The Knight twins filled me on Jessica’s plan before I arrived. She’s using the show to reel in the Resistance. She wants to reveal herself, make herself look vulnerable, and expose some of her secrets as bait. I want to strangle her for putting her life at risk.
I stab at my plate. I’m not letting her do this alone. I am as much invested in taking down the Resistance as she is. I have been working on it for the better part of six years. She just doesn’t know it. I need this time to develop a plan to navigate this game, feel out the contestants, maybe look into the staff, and keep tabs on Marcus Greystone. I have some allies here, but a lot of them no longer trust me. I burned those bridges years ago.
“Mind if I join you?” Owen Kaminari stands on the opposite side of the table.
I nod. He sets his plate and cup of coffee on the table and takes a seat. Owen peers at me over his mug. I put my phone away as an open invitation.
“Do I address you as sir or Alpha Larson? Hell, what name do you use?”
I give him a crooked smile before I sip my coffee. Is he testing me? He eats his food, avoiding me directly. Head slightly bowed, but he’s not cowering. It’s out of respect, not challenge. Interesting.
I first met Owen Kaminari when he was sixteen. Despite his title and the fact that territory four is one of the richest territories in the LS, he was always respectful, humble even. When he applied to the guard recruit program, no sponsors vouched for him, which was unusual for most applicants, especially a Young Alpha. For most applicants, the Alphas sponsor their own children or someone else’s son within thepack. Sometimes it’s someone within the pack who is an active or inactive duty guard that becomes a sponsor. In his case, he had neither. Sponsors donate to pay for the recruit’s cost of living and vouch for the applicant’s integrity. Scholarships are available to a select few without a sponsor, but they benefit by being a guard to pursue future careers in the military, law enforcement, or similar careers. In Owen’s case, he wanted to be in the guard to work with his own peers, defend his pack, and make alliances. He saved his own money to pay for his own living expenses and whatever else he needed.
He impressed me. Most in his position are forced into the guard, and when they show up for their interview, I often want to strangle them, but not Owen. He ended his interview by telling all of us that should he be accepted into the recruit program, he didn’t want anyone to know that he was a Young Alpha.
Anders asked him why, and his reply was simple. “I haven’t earned the title. I was born with it. I want to earn the respect of my peers on my own accord.”
That answer alone was enough for me, and I wanted to see him through the program. I sponsored him in the end, but I didn’t tell him. I’m not sure he knows now. I think back on his time in the recruit program and how much shit I gave him. He deserves an olive branch for putting up with me then.
“Tyler. Call me Tyler.”
Shock crosses his face, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a mask of indifference.
We sit together in silence, enjoying our meals without fake pretenses. At the entrance where Spike and Alexis stand guard, Carmen joins them. She scans the room and stops when she sees us. The room grows quiet as she approaches our table. Nosy bastards.
“I need a word with you, Alpha Larson.” Without waiting for my response, she spins around and heads back the way she came. That woman has balls, talking down to an Alpha like that.
A quick glance around. I see the eyes of the other Alphas in the room on me. I won’t give her the upper hand. Out of spite, I finish my coffee and place my linen napkin on the table. Slowly, I stand and straighten my jacket.
“Good luck,” Owen mutters. I probably shouldn’t have pissed her off last night, but I wasn’t leaving Jessica in her state. Despite this show and the reasons we’re all here, I am first and foremost Jessica’s protector. I will always protect her.
“Thanks,” I say under my breath as I walk past him. I reach the main entrance, and Alexis and Spike salute me. Maybe it’s out of habit, fear, or respect. I’m not sure.
I stop to briefly address them. “Gentlemen, I’m no longer your commanding officer. Relax.” They glance at each other.
“Doesn’t matter,” Alexis replies. “You still deserve our respect.” Spike nods in agreement.
“Thank you, but there is no need for formalities in the future.” They both nod and relax their stances. Carmen waits for me in the hall. Turning slightly to check that I follow her, she leads me into a room down the corridor, and I face a myriad of monitors.
A frozen image of me holding Jessica in my arms before she collapsed to the ground displays on all of the screens. Carmen crosses her arms, tapping her index finger over one bicep. She possesses annoyance, but the energy surrounding her is anything but. She wants information. Amused, I play along and let her take the lead.
“You’re a lawyer, Alpha Larson. I shouldn’t need to remind you that you are under contract and assured me neither of you are in a relationship with someone else, including each other.”
“That is correct. I am a widower, and Jessica and I do not have the sort of relationship that falls under the contract rules.”
“This says otherwise.” The contract, when signed, testifies to us being unmated, widowed, or divorced. More specifically, we attest that we do not have a relationship of any kind with another male or female. In previous games and under the original contract, it held a clause that refuted knowing the contestants prior to meeting them on the show. That part was amended.
Although Jessica and I had sex this morning, we can have sex with someone and not be in a relationship. I didn’t break any rules and didn’t lie about it. We do not share an intimate relationship, in which we talk to each other daily, share meals, or live in or occupy each other’s spaces. We can be in love with someone and not have a relationship with them. I’m living proof of that shit.
She taps on the monitor to emphasize her point. My face shows everything I feel for my Princess. I didn’t realize how transparent I had become. Shrugging my shoulders, I admit, “I’m in love with her. I have been for years.”
She stops tapping her finger and huffs. “Then why mate her best friend and keep it a secret from her?”
How is that information relevant to our contract agreement with this game? “We didn’t mate. We were married. Emily and I had a betrothal contract long before either one of us was born,” I explain. “Emily wanted to keep it a secret from Jessica because, even though nothing happened between us, she knew Jessica still had feelings for me. She was afraid to lose her friendship with Jessica over something we had no control over.” It’s not the complete truth, but that’s all I’m giving her. She doesn’t need to know how everything got so fucked up that it nearly destroyed me. She stares at the monitor, and the tension in her face softens.
“Like I said, it’s complicated.” So fucking complicated, it hurts.
