Right now, Charles was the most important thing.
Chapter 11
Charlie
Awareness came slowly. Not in a rush like a waterfall’s water falling over the edge of a cliff, though maybe it should have. Instead, it crept in piece by piece, and I wasn’t sure what to do with any of it.
I kept my eyes closed, letting the soft touches along my scalp anchor me. Each caress was gentle, almost tender enough to pull me back toward the place I’d just drifted from.
My knees ached beneath me, but that was easy to ignore. Pain like that had long since become background noise. I’d been trained to overlook it. To stay still. To serve without flinching.
This moment was no different. Except maybe it was. Because the hands in my hair didn’t demand. They lingered. And that, somehow, was harder to process than the ache.
I gradually opened my eyes, like my body wasn’t quite ready to let go of sleep.
The living room was dim, the curtains not yet opened all the way. My cheek rested against Alpha Harris’s thigh, the fabric soft beneath my skin.
I didn’t move right away, even though I probably should have. Clients didn’t like cuddling, or clingy boys.
I blinked slowly, letting the room come into focus piece by piece, the quiet hum of the house, the steadyrhythm of the Alpha’s breathing, the weight of a hand still resting gently in my hair.
It hadn’t left. That surprised me. Most hands didn’t stay. Nice touches didn’t last.
I shifted slightly to look up. Alpha Harris was watching me, calm, unreadable, present. No command. No question. Just quiet acknowledgment. And for a moment, I didn’t feel like he had to brace. I just existed in a quiet space that I never wanted to pop.
“Hello.” His eyes were alight with something akin to proudness.
What had I done to make him proud of me?
“Hi, Sir?” I somehow got the words to come forth, although my mouth was dry and my mind was still hazy.
“You follow orders very well.”
Well, yeah, What else was expected of me other than that?
“Do you know what subspace is?”
I gave a slow shake of my head, the motion barely more than a breath.
My feet had started to tingle, pins and needles creeping in from how long I’d stayed still. But I didn’t move. Didn’t want to.
His hand brushed gently along my hairline, fingertips sweeping a strand off my forehead with quiet care. My eyes threatened to close again, drawn to the softness of the touch.
It was grounding. And in that moment, I didn’t need to understand the word. I was already floating somewhere close to it
“You’re close to it,” he said quietly. “Subspace.”
I didn’t respond, my mind so close back to that floaty place I had been moments before.
“It’s not just about what’s done to you,” he continued. “It’s about what falls away. Thought. Time. Fear.” He paused, letting the silence stretch. “It’s a place where everything slows down. Where your body remembers safety, even if your mind doesn’t trust it yet.”
His thumb brushed gently across my temple. “I’ve seen people chase it like a high. But for me… it’s never been about escape.”
He looked down at me, still nestled against him, my eyes half-lidded but aware. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to.
“It’s about presence. About being so still, so open, that you stop bracing for the worst.” The Alpha’s voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper. “And when someone lets me see them like that—when they let go without breaking—I don’t take it lightly.”
He didn’t say more. Didn’t need to. Because I was already there, hovering at the edge of something fragile and real.
