“No…I…good, Sir. Good. No.” I shook, my voice broken as I scooted backwards.
I didn’t want another pill. I didn’t want to burn from within with a need that wouldn’t be given.
I didn’t-
“Kasey.” Although my name was spoken like I was hurting him, I froze, my body shaking almost uncontrollably. “Doctor Moore left a mild antianxiety option for moments like this. It’s safe. It’ll help you breathe again.”
Lies.
I squeezed my eyes shut. My chest hurt. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t get enough air. The room felt too big and too small at the same time.
The Alpha’s voice stayed steady. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but it’ll help.”
I forced my eyes to open. He wasn’t looming. He wasn’t demanding. He just knelt there, holding up an orange pill bottle in his hand.
My breath stuttered.
I’d rather die than take another pill. I couldn’t.
But I knew I did have to take it. If an Alpha or handler said I didn’thave to, I still did. I didn’t get choices, even though I would rather do anything than take another pill.
So, instead of sayingnoover and over again, I nodded once, my chin wobbling at how easy I caved.
Easy to just give in and let whoever wanted to do whatever they wanted to me. My body was no longer my own, and being in a different bed didn’t mean a single thing changed.
I was still an Omega. I was still to serve to the best of my abilities. And I was never to refuse whatever an Alpha wanted to do to me, even if that included making me bleed.
The Alpha’s shoulders eased, just barely at my acceptance. He took a single pill into his palm and held it out with a glass of water that had a straw sticking out of the top.
“Slow sips, alright.”
I didn’t bother to reach out to take the cup. I already knew if I tried, the water would end up all over the bed. Maybe thisman knew that, too, as he lifted the straw to my lips after he slip a pill between them.
The Alpha didn’t comment; he just stayed there after I took a few sips and sat the cup aside. He let me breathe through the panic.
The trembling didn’t stop right away. The tears didn’t either. But the room slowly stopped spinning, and the air didn’t feel quite as thin.
The Alpha’s voice softened even more. “You’re doing really well. Just keep breathing. I’m right here.”
And for the first time since waking, the panic lessoned its grip. It was just enough for me to feel the weight of the mattress beneath me, the softness of the blanket, and the quiet presence of someone who wasn’t going to hurt me.
The panic didn’t vanish all at once. It lingered in the corners of my chest, tight and aching, like a bruise that hadn’t faded. My hands still trembled and my breath still hitched. But the sharp edges of fear began to dull, just slightly, like someone had turned the volume down on everything inside me.
The pill was working. I could feel it. It was better than the ones that the handlers always gave out. Instead of inducing a thrumming need, this one calmed me down.
I curled tighter into the blanket; the stuffed animal pressed against my chest like a lifeline. Its fur was worn, its seams uneven, but it was soft. Real.
The Alpha hadn’t moved. He stayed nearby, watching. Not speaking. His posture was steady, breathing slowly. I could feel it more than see it, like gravity, like something anchoring me to the room.
I blinked slowly, vision clearing enough to see the light filtering through the curtains. It was morning. Or close to it.
My body still felt wrong. It ached in places that I didn’t want to think about. It itched deep inside, like nothing was ever going to be alright again.
And how could it be okay? How could my service be good enough for this Alpha,anyAlpha, when I was broken past repair inside?
“Can you hear me?”
I nodded, barely. My throat felt raw, like I spent days screaming at the top of my lungs.
