Edging her way down the stairs, she jumped at every imagined noise. Startled at the deep shadows lurking around every corner. Full night had descended, and no one had bothered to turn on the many lights, casting everything into dim shadows and sulking darkness.
Elena went through the dining room on tiptoe, trying not to make a sound as she hoped the kitchen lay just beyond. She had no idea how long her heat had lasted with an Alpha to see to her, but she was starved.
Slipping through the doorway, Elena fought a smile as she viewed her target. It was too soon for a victory yet. She stillneeded to find something to eat and get out of this space without being caught.
Why it should matter wasn’t clear, but Elena felt like a thief all the same.
Opening the refrigerator door with care, she peeked inside and almost let out a whoop. Cold cuts, crisp lettuce, and every condiment she could dream of sat in perfect order just inside. She gathered her bounty, taking it to the wide island as she poked around the counters for bread.
“Perfect,” she whispered to herself as she found a fresh loaf still soft and squishy.
Elena was well into making her huge sandwich, mustard and mayonnaise smeared all over her fingers when the overhead light flicked on, and a subterranean growl filled the space. It startled her into dropping the knife she’d been using, the piercing ring of it hitting the floor followed by a wet slap as it stuck to the cool tiles.
“What are you doing,” Leon demanded from the doorway.
“I was hungry,” Elena mumbled, stooping to pick up the knife only to have her wrist snatched. Leon pulled her up by that grip alone, stretching her body taut until it was a quivering line.
“Then you call Mrs. Jacobs,” he bit out, grinding the small bones of her wrist together as his hold tightened.
“It’s night,” Elena stammered out. “I’m capable of making a sandwich on my own.”
“Hardly,” Leon scoffed. Turning his head, he bellowed, “Mrs. Jacobs!”
Within moments the woman scurried in, head bowing as she took in the scene. “Yes, sir?”
“Did you fail to inform my mate that you are available at all hours?”
“I… I’m certain that I did, sir.”
“Well,” Leon asked, turning the full force of his anger upon Elena.
“I’m sorry,” Elena mumbled as she dropped her chin, bowing her head even lower than poor Mrs. Jacobs. If the housekeeper had told her as much, she didn’t remember, but there was likely more than Elena would care to admit that she’d let slip through her fingers those first few days as her world was sent off kilter.
“I’ll have this cleaned up in no time, and bring a fresh one out to the miss in the dining room, shall I, sir?” Mrs. Jacobs seemed to be holding her breath the same as Elena.
“Go sit down,” Leon ordered on a deep rumble, sending Elena stumbling towards the door with a light shove that had her flailing for balance.
So much for pretending to be a doting Alpha.
Elena slunk her way to her chair, sitting there in the dark. Knowing she was being foolish, but too afraid to go against his demands. She rubbed at her chest as something tugged and pulled. It felt as if it wormed its way in, latching on with vicious teeth to draw itself deeper.
“Never you mind, miss,” Mrs. Jacobs murmured after she turned on the light and settled a fresh plate in front of Elena. The sandwich was cut just so, with pickles and a fresh salad on the side. “I’m sure it will all blow over.”
Elena hummed a noncommittal response as she scratched at that peculiar feeling. Drawing it out with her fingers, spreading it deeper with every breath. It was alien and second nature all at once, a new limb in place of an old one. Disturbed by her thoughts, Elena began to eat.
Ravenous, she barely took note of Mrs. Jacobs setting another plate in front of her, and then another. It wasn’t until her fork scraped over the last smears of pie and whip cream, the warm blueberry filling bold and brash against the white porcelain, that she realized she’d eaten quite a bit more.
And that Leon Marchetti was watching her again.
He sat at the other end of the table, chin propped on his knuckles as he watched her with blatant interest. His eyes narrowed as she stared back at him, a single brow arching high as if he dared her to continue.
Elena slid the fork between her lips, challenging him. Meeting his gaze as boldly as he met hers. A silver tongued voice whispered in her ear to submit, to be docile and sweet to him, but she offered up a saccharine smile to match the sharp edged grin he aimed at her.
He wouldn’t beat her. Leon wouldn’t risk his possible heir and first child over such a thing. Omegas might be made to take an Alpha’s violence, but they could still break.
Elena didn’t know why it grated on her, the way he watched and stared. So silent, so unfeeling, as if he inspected a bug. She remembered what he’d been like during her heat, though only in vague snatches and gritty fragments. It was nothing at all like this. He’d lavished her with his attentions, murmured sweetly in her ear. Given her his pleasured sounds as he wrecked her mind and body both with indescribable bliss.
“Go to bed,” Leon said, not moving from his indolent posture to even wave her on.
