So, every time this Alpha didn’t speak, I felt myself shrinking a little more into myself. At least the panic was hidden away, along with a smidgen of fear that always followed me everywhere I went.
Maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe I should’ve pretended to be that boy in the pictures. Maybe then he wouldn’t look so…. distant and lost in thought.
Even as those thoughts curled tight in my chest, another part of me, the small quiet part I barely recognized, kept noticing things that didn’t fit the story I’d been taught to believe.
Evander still checked on me. Still asked if I needed water. Still made sure I ate. Still kept his voice soft, even when he didn’t say much.
Wasn’t it my job, myduty,to serve him, to care for him? Not the other way around?
This Alpha wasn’t ignoring me or punishing me. He wasn’t waiting for me to break.
He was giving me space. Giving me something I didn’t know I could have in a way that he made it seem like second nature.
I wasn’t used to that; being given space to figure out my thoughts. Because my thoughts weren’t ever to be anything but what the Alpha or handler before me wanted.
The Alpha was meant to be my entire focus. His needs. His wants. His desires.
It was weird. And maybe I could get used to it. Maybe, if this Alpha really wanted to keep me.
But as the quiet stretched, and the last dose of meds started to wear off, my thoughts became louder. More insistent. The sounds were louder, too.
The clink of a mug. The soft hum of the air conditioner. The faint creak of the floorboards where Evander shifted his weight as he did whatever he was doing.
I stayed on the couch, back tucked into a corner, and the same blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there, but my legs were restless with a need to get up; to make myself useful.
Omegas were never to be lazy.
I was to either make myself useful or kneel and wait for commands. But this Alpha didn’t like me kneeling, so instead I found a spot on the couch where I could watch Evander.
I curled my fingers together in my lap, squished between my torso and knees; I just watched. Observed the Alpha. I tried to learn about his habits. Tried to see what he’d want of me.
The actions spoke louder than the words ever did, and I didn’t want to be a disappointment to him. Because then, he may send me back.
If I just behaved and served him to the best of my abilities, then maybe he’d be willing to keep me longer.
As Evander walked past me on his way back to the kitchen, again for the fifth time in as many minutes, he paused. Just for a second. His hand brushed my shoulder. “You doing alright?”
The question was simple. Soft and genuine.
I nodded automatically, even though I wasn’t sure whatalrightmeant.
Truthfully, I wasn’t okay at all.
My body felt worn out in a way that didn’t make sense. Too much sleep, not enough movement, and whatever lingering effects the pill Evander had given me hours ago still drifting through my system. My thoughts moved slowly, like they were trying to swim through thick syrup, but they still bounced around inside my skull in slow, clumsy circles.
My back ached, a deep familiar throb that flared every time I shifted. The shirt brushed over the welts and scabs, tugging at the skin, reminding me of every place I hadn’t healed yet.
And maybe I was hungry. Maybe. It was hard to tell with everything else crowding my senses.
But I didn’t dare mention any of it. My comfort didn’t matter. My needs didn’t matter. My wants definitely didn’t matter.
At least…that was the rule I’d lived by for so long that my body still believed it, even if Evander hadn’t given me a single reason to fear him.
I stayed quiet. Still. Small. Because that was the only way I knew how to be. Well, technically, if I were at Lockswell, being on my knees, naked or as close to it as possible, would be the position I’d be waiting in. Or more likely, I’d be in a client’s room, serving another Alpha.
I was too slow to hide my grimace of pain as I shifted.
“What’s wrong?” Evander asked, an edge of worry lacing his voice as he rounded the edge of the couch.
