“Not much I can do, unfortunately at this point in time. All I can do is make an example of this Vale guy and hope more Alphas will treat the Omegas better.”
Well, it was at least a start, and that’s all I could ask for.
After that news, Silas wanted to know how Charles was doing, and I obliged in telling him.
Chapter 24
Charlie
I woke up alone.
The room was silent, empty. After however many days it had been, that felt wrong. I couldn’t remember a single moment without someone hovering nearby.
Now, I didn’t know what to do. Or what to think.
No eyes on me meant freedom. Or danger. Or nothing at all.
If I had the strength to move, maybe I’d find out. But for now, I just lay there, breathing through the weight pressing down on my chest.
Then I noticed it—my vision. Still foggy, but clearer than before. My eyes opened wider. And for the first time, I saw more than just the blur of colors.
This wasn’t the room I had been in before. This room had darker gray walls, nearly blackish blue in a way. Light artwork of sunsets on a beach and sunflowers decorated the wall in front of me, right above a six drawer dresser.
Turning slowly, mindful of the damage on my back, I took in the other walls. The sun shone through an open window, just dull enough to not blind me. Once again, there were no dust motes floating around.
An open door led to a bathroom; I could see the huge tub, and I almost wondered what it’d be like to take a bath in.
I never had a bath. Showers, quick, lukewarm wash downs, sure. But never a full bath where I could just sit there and relax, letting my muscles relax like I’ve seen on TV before.
I didn’t want to assume I’d get it here, either.
Nothing else in the room stood out. Like the rest of the house, it was empty of personal belongings. No loving touches; just decorated for show.
Sooner rather than I liked, my bladder demanded I get up, or I’d likely leave a mess in the bed. It was bad enough already that I probably wasn’t helping with the dirty bedding issue as it was.
On weak legs that threatened to fall, I slowly made my way towards the bathroom. I had to keep my balance by holding onto the edge of the bed, then the walls.
By the time I got to the toilet, I was out of breath, my lungs aching as I panted. My back throbbed, too.
I held my breath as I sat, since there was no way I’d be able to keep standing. As my bladder released into the water below, I glanced around the bathroom. It felt awkward, looking at something that I didn’t belong in.
Other than the tub, there was a full walk in shower, a double sink, and a huge wall filled mirrors. Everything wasn’t as white as the rest of the house, but it was too bright; too bland.
The only sign that someone lived here was the toothbrush that was placed in a cup. Otherwise, there were no signs of life here.
I didn’t bother washing my hands. It took too much effort. There were too many steps between standing and collapsing again.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, a shadow filled the doorway to the bedroom.
Tall. Still. Watching.
I froze mid-step, heart kicking hard against my ribs.
I should’ve checked. Should’ve paid attention. But I’d let my guard down. And now I was going to pay for it.
Again.
Because apparently, I hadn’t learned.
