The Alpha didn’t comment. Didn’t push. He just went back to the stove, giving me space while still close enough that I didn’t feel abandoned.
The kitchen was warm and the air smelled like food.
No one was yelling. No one was watching me like I was going to fail at any given moment.
And somehow, that made it even harder to not fall apart. Harder to not disappear back into myself.
My eyes moved on their own, quick, quiet sweeps in the room.
Corners first. Always the corners.
The one by the pantry was shadowed enough to kneel without being in the way. The space beside the fridge was tighter, but workable if the Alpha wanted me to be close. The floor near the table was open, too exposed, but familiar in a way that made my stomach twist.
I hated that my mind went there.
The Alpha stood at the stove, back turned, and I took the chance to look for places I could be positioned if he wanted me somewhere. The wall by the doorway. The empty stretch of tile near the counter.
I forced my gaze upward, away from the floor, away from the places I’d already mapped out. The kitchen was normal. Soft light, clean corners.
I shifted, crossing my ankles, then uncrossing them. I didn’t know where he wanted me after this. Was it all a test?
The Alpha glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening even more. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t order me anywhere but where I sat.
He just kept cooking, like I wasn’t a problem to manage. I wasn’t something he had to fix.
It tightened my throat in a way I didn’t understand.
I kept my eyes on the table, breathing slowly, trying to stay in the present. Trying to not slip back into the places my mind kept dragging me.
I jerked, eyes wide, as a plate and a small bowl were placed in front of me on the table.
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” The Alpha’s voice sounded kind, and it was hard to ignore my instinct to look up at him. But I did. I glanced up briefly to see his eyes before quickly dropping my gaze again.
“Eat.”
With a shaking hand, I picked up half of the sandwich, slowly bringing it to my lips. The first bite, that first burst of flavor, nearly caused me to groan out loud.
It’d been so long since I got something so delicious. Something so…warm and gooey and…and…good.
The food at Lockswell was often tasteless, just enough to give Omegas enough to keep living, to keep their energy up. But this…this food was like heaven, if it had a taste.
By the time I took the fourth bite, I felt more than saw the Alpha sit across from me. The chair barely made a sound, but his presence settled into the space like a weight. Thankfully, he didn’t try to talk.
My stomach protested sooner than I wanted it to, tightening in that familiar way that warned me I’d reached my limit. Not even half of the sandwich was gone. I stared at the remaining piece for a moment, wishing I could finish it, wishing my body would let me.
But it wouldn’t.
I set the uneaten half back on the plate and folded my hands in my lap again, slipping into the posture I knew best—quiet, still, waiting.
“Some rules, I think, should be set up, don’t you think?” I took a deep breath, giving a tiny nod.
The rules were good. Then, I’d know where I was to stand while I was with this Alpha. Afterall, this was his home. His life. I’d be whatever he wanted. I’d do whatever he wanted.
I lived to serve.
Even if my stomach twisted against the way society was. Even if my skin crawled with filth.
I would be whatever version of myself he wanted.
