“…Swelling has gone down. Infection seems to be under control. If he can’t eat, then the feeding tube will need to be put in today.” The words weren’t for me, but certainly about me.
Had the Alpha from Lockswell taken me to his house? That was a likely possibility. For all I knew, Adrian went with his Alpha everywhere.
I could pretend to eat…maybe. The idea of putting food into my stomach was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.
“…remove the IV port when I feel comfortable with his eating habits….. Underweight already as it is…..whatever that Alpha did to him…. likely to scar……”
Peeling my eyes open to slits, the blue object in front of me moved closer. It wasn’t as blurry as before.
“Give me till tomorrow.” The owner of the voice wasn’t thrilled, but the anger wasn’t directed at me.
“You’re pushing it, Vincent.”
My heart, despite everything, picked up speed at that name.
Was it possible? Was it possible I could hope? Hope for true safety here?
“Hi.”
I blinked, trying to get my eyes to work. They wouldn’t stay open, and the little bit of vision I could get through the slits wasn’t much.
It took too much effort to reply, so I simply squeezed the fingers that were wrapped around my own.
I breathed out a breath as a finger ran across my forehead. It was gentle, barely there.
“It’s okay. It’s safe.”
I nodded, just the tiniest of movement. But it was enough for now.
“Do you hurt right now?” Adrian asked next, his voice quiet, like our moment would be ignored by theAlphas in the room. It didn’t feel like they were paying us any attention.
Did I? Yes, but no. I was sure if I moved, all the pain would crash over me like a bolder falling from a mountain top. It wouldn’t just roll over me; it’d fall right smack on top of me.
I blinked instead, the best that I could. My lashes stuck together, wet and clumped in spots.
“Moore wants to stop giving you the good stuff.” He went on, scooting a bit closer like we were in a bubble, just the two of us. “I agree. It makes you…not here.”
There wasn’t much I could do about that. I didn’t want to behere, or anywhere. The darkness was better. It kept me hidden.
“If you can….” Adrian trailed off, causing me to open my eyes that I hadn’t realized closed again. “Take some Advil or something, that’d be really good.” I could try, at least. I guess.
“That would help the nausea,” Moore’s voice broke through. He seemed closer than before. “High dose pain meds definitely mess up a person’s stomach.”
On instinct, my body froze, muscles tightening. Then, a second later, a tear leaked out as I squeezed my eyes shut through the spike of pain.
“Sorry, hon. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Something told me that it wasn’t the first time I jerked from his presence or touch.
“It’s probably bathroom time,” Moore said, like he already knew, like my body’s schedule wassomething he’d memorized before I had a chance to notice it myself.
And maybe he had.
Whispers of commands and touches flickered through my mind, reminders of how often I’d been told when to go. Of course he’d know. They all had.
My body flinched at the thought, but my mind didn’t bother to care. Shame was supposed to be there, I think. But it wasn’t. Not when being watched—corrected—while I pissed or shit had become routine.
So why did it feel different now? Why did Moore’s voice, calm and clinical, make something twist inside me?
