But then a moment later, my eyes flashed open. No one touched me with care. No one ever treated me like I could break, because I was already broken.
The room was brighter now, as though I had dozed for a few more hours, but my body felt otherwise. It was hollow and achy in a way that told me the pill hadn’t fully left my system. My head throbbed with that familiar lingering fog.
As my eyes adjusted, the second thing I noticed made my breath catch.
There was a man kneeling in front of me.
An Alpha. Kneeling.
No. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t allowed. I’m the one who kneels. Not him. Never him.
The thought hit so hard that my stomach twisted. Panic surged up my throat, sharp and dizzying. My body tried to move, tried to drop lower to correct the mistake, to do what I’vebeen trained to do, but nothing obeyed. My limbs felt sluggish, uncoordinated like they belonged to someone else.
Before I could process the wrongness of it all, before I could force myself into the posture I was meant to hold, the Alpha spoke, his voice low and steady.
“Kasey, don’t move. You’re alright right where you are.”
The words didn’t make sense. Alphas didn’t kneel. The Alphas didn’t speak softly. The Alphas didn’t tell Omegasnotto kneel.
The room tilted, my vision blurred. I tried to push myself upright, tried to fix whatever mistake I’d made, but my arms trembled uselessly.
The Alpha lifted his hands slightly, palms open, as if showing me he meant no harm.
“You’re safe,” the words were spoken softer this time, “You don’t have to kneel. Not here. Remember, that’s a new rule. No kneeling for me.”
The words only made me panic more. Safe didn’t exist. Safe wasn’t real. Safe was something people said right before everything got worse.
My breath came too fast and my heart hammered painfully against my ribs. I couldn’t make sense of the room, the light, and the Alpha kneeling in front of me. Nothing fit. Nothing matched the rules that were carved into me.
And the more I tried to understand, the more everything inside me unraveled.
The room kept tilting, even though I wasn’t moving. Every time I blinked, the light shifted. It was too bright at the edges, too soft in the center. My heart wouldn’t slow down. It hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The aftereffects of the pill crawled under my skin.
I tried to breathe, but each inhale came out sharp and thin. My hands shook so badly I curled them into fists, clutching the animal against my chest.
I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. I didn’t know who was coming next. I didn’t know.
The panic rose fast, choking, a wave I couldn’t outrun. My throat burned as each breath forced its way out of my lungs.
I folded in on myself, trying to make my body smaller and quieter. Invisible.
A sound cut through the panic. “Kasey?”
The voice was gentle. Too gentle. That made the panic worse. I needed orders. I needed to kneel.
“It’s just me.” The voice said. The voice was too close and too far away at the same time.
I shook my head, unable to form words. My breath came faster and faster. Tears spilled without warning, hot and silent, blurring everything into streaks of light.
The Alpha crouched a few feet away, close enough to see but far enough not to crowd. His hands were open, empty, and steady.
“You’re having a panic spike,” he whispered just loud enough to reach me. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”
Wrong.
The words made my stomach twist. I curled tighter, shaking.
The Alpha didn’t touch me. He didn’t move closer. He reached instead for something on the nightstand. The sound of pills rattling in the bottle sent a chill of fear down my spine.
