I didn’t respond. Not yet. He continued, undeterred.
“It’s not personal, of course. Just business. We have protocols in place for reassignment. You’ve had him for several days—surely that’s sufficient for your purposes.”
I glanced down. Charls hadn’t moved, but his body was tight.
I turned away from him, voice low and deliberate. “I didn’t take him for a transaction, Alpha Vale.”
Another pause. Then Merrick’s tone sharpened, just slightly. “You signed a temporary care contract. That makes him property of Lockswell House until the term expires. We’re simply offering a more profitable arrangement.” Profitable for only him.
I let the silence stretch. Then: “He’s not going anywhere.”
Merrick exhaled through his nose. “You’re making this unnecessarily complicated.”
“I’m making it clear.” I ended the call. No pleasantries. No room for negotiation. When I turned back, Charlie was watching with wide, guarded eyes. But beneath the tension, something else flickered. Not fear. Not confusion. Something closer to belief.
I had to take a deep breath, centering myself, before I focused on Charles. He sat there, stiffly, eyes downcast and legs over the edge of the couch. Formal, almost, like a single moment was enough to put him back into the mindset of a slave. A mindset that would, and is, the most challenging to reset.
“That was Master Merrick Vale,” I started off slowly, watching for any reaction the Omega beside me would give.
“He…I’ve met him.” No other explanation, but wasn’t surprised.
“Apparently, there’s a client that is demanding your time and Alpha Vale wants you to be returned.”
Charlie’s breath hitched. I didn’t soften the words. I didn’t hide them. Because he deserved the truth.
“I’m not returning you early, sweetheart.” The nickname came out without me thinking it over. “You’re mine until the time I agreed on arrives.”
Charles open and closed his mouth, like he wanted to say something but was at a loss for words. Finally, he dropped his eyes, defeat falling heavy on his shoulders. “Did he say which client?”
“No.” Nor did it matter. Charles was mine for the week, and I wasn’t going to give him up. I was enjoying his company, surprisingly. “You aren’t a transaction to me.” I lowered my voice, hoping he understood how true the words were. I never saw anyone as property to be traded back and forth. “it’s not your fault for being born as an Omega, let alone to an Alpha that didn’t want to raise you himself.”
“My mother was the Alpha,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on the floor. The words came out flat, but his face had gone pale, like saying it aloud cost him something.
“Rare,” I said. “But not impossible.” Rare that an Alpha female willing gave up her child. They tended to be nurturing and wanted to keep their kids, no matter what their blood test results.
Still, I knew what he meant. In a world built on hierarchy, an Omega born to an Alpha wasn’t just unusual, it was inconvenient. And unfair.
The way Omegas were treated had never sat right with me. But laws didn’t bend just because they were cruel.
“I’ll have to go back when the contract ends,” he added, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.” I said it because it was true. Pretending otherwise would only make it harder. But the thought of handing him back already hurt more than I expected. “We have time,” I said. “Let’s use it well.”
Even as I spoke, I couldn’t shake the unease. Alpha Vale had power. Influence. If he wanted Charlie back early, I wasn’t sure I’d have a choice. But I wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “For now, let’s eat. The stew smells incredible.”
The scent had filled the house all afternoon, rich and warm, like something that belonged to a life I wasn’t sure I deserved. But I wanted it. Even if it was temporary.
“Go wash up and use the bathroom.” Almost instantly, he was up and off the couch. He made no sounds as he went up the stairs bare foot, as though making a sound, any little slip of sound at all, would cause me to punish him.
The stew had simmered all afternoon, filling the house with warmth I hadn’t expected to crave. I ladled it into two bowls, careful not to spill. By the time I set one bowl on the table, Charles was sliding into the seat, hands in his lap. I had placed it close enough to take, far enough to leave untouched.
Then I placed the spoon next to it and turned to my seat across from him. I didn’t say anything. Just started eating. No commands. No expectations.
I let him choose.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his fingers hover near the bowl. He touched the ceramic like it might bite. Then slowly, he picked up the spoon and took a bite.
