Chapter 15
Fenrir woke lying on his stomach. His arms were chained to the headboard of an unfamiliar bed, his ankles spread and attached to the bottom legs of the king-sized piece of furniture.
He lifted his upper body as much as he was able, moaning when that drew his attention to the thick object stuffed into his back entrance, keeping his hole stretched and wide. The object rubbed against his insides when he shifted, and he bit down on his bottom lip, instantly drawing blood.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Oberon’s clear order came from the opposite side of the room, and Fenrir had to rest most of his weight on his left shoulder to be able to catch sight of him.
The alpha looked exhausted, perched on a windowsill, bright sunlight streaming in behind him, casting his features in shadow.
His arms were crossed, and he’d changed his clothes, though the suit pants were still a shade of cream.
The white button-up shirt he wore had half the buttons left undone, exposing tanned skin that instantly had Fenrir’s blood pumping.
“Take this out.” His horny reaction had to be due to the object inside of him. He refused to believe it was because he actually wanted to fuck the alpha at a time like this. “What did you do to me?”
How’d he even end up here? Wherever here was. He ached all over, like he’d run miles, and memories were a hard thing to grasp onto.
“What do you think I did?” Oberon asked cryptically, and Fen scowled.
“I don’t know.” They’d had sex in the car…
and then again, later, after the alpha had drugged him.
Fenrir couldn’t really blame him for that part, since they did have a binding contract, and it could be argued that Fen was trying to get out of it with his shortened heat.
But…What happened next? “I didn’t feel good after we’d shared my heat. ”
“It lasted a while. Longer than most.”
“How long?”
“Five days.”
Fenrir scowled. “You gave me a strong dose on purpose. Was it meant as a punishment?”
The alpha’s jaw ticked. “Is that how the Wardrobe usually dealt with you? Sexual punishment when you didn’t stay in line?”
“Not exactly.” Their species and sex went hand in hand. Pheromone regulation required it of them, so it shouldn’t be surprising that Michelle chose to use inhibitors and inducers as weapons against product.
If an alpha or omega skipped too many ruts/heats in a row, they’d suffer from pheromone repletion. If they were forced to have too many, they risked depletion.
Fenrir had never had a heat last more than three days, but he wasn’t typically given inducers, since that state of being made him dangerous and harder to control.
But this time, he’d had a proper partner with him, an alpha who had knotted him.
The vague recollection of waking and feeling like shit didn’t add up.
Being knotted should have left him feeling great—at least, in the sense that his pheromones would have been regulated, and his heat would have been satisfied. The muscle aches and discomfort in his rear had been expected, but the rest…
“I’ve felt like that before,” he realized with a sickening feeling. His stomach dropped, and the temperature of the room followed suit, though not to dangerous levels.
Not this time, anyway.
But he’d done it before. He could recall that now as well.
Remembered shattering the doorknob and trying to escape.
The alpha capturing him.
Learning about what he truly was.
He’d…called his Butcher, hadn’t he?
Good Light.
He had.
The alpha had called the Butcher of the White Frost. Why? Fenrir racked his brain, but the terror that rose like bile up the back of his throat made it difficult to think clearly.
“Relax, omega,” Oberon warned, keeping his place in front of the window, forcing Fenrir to remain in that uncomfortable position in the process in order to see him. “You’re safe.”
“Like hell!” he snarled and tugged on his bindings, an agitated sound slipping out of him. “Untie me! Let me go!”
“Your reaction seems over the top,” the alpha said. “I thought you were feeling better, but maybe that’s not the case.”
“You drugged me!” His reaction was pretty on point, actually. “Why did you tie me up? Who are you waiting for?”
“Who?” Oberon seemed to grow irritated. “Are you asking if I’ve contacted Michelle? I have not. And I won’t. You won’t be going back to her, Fenrir.”
Oh gods.
Visions of sterile white rooms and the smell of cleaning fluid assaulted him, momentarily blinding him to Oberon.
It’d been a long time since he was pulled from the medical ward, removed from the testing sights and allowed to reside in the estate.
Even when she was terribly cross with him, Michelle knew better than to threaten him with that place.
But that was because she’d planned on buying Fenrir’s loyalty and using him as her own personal tool. The alpha before him had no need for such weapons. The White Frost was filled with talents of their own, people who could get the job done.
Fen had been stupid and rash, and had revealed his greatest secret to Oberon King, and now the alpha was planning on turning him over to the Butcher.
“Don’t,” he hardly heard himself through the buzzing in his ears, but Fenrir couldn’t control himself. “Don’t let her touch me.”
Confusion flashed across the alpha’s face. “No one is going to touch you, omega. No one but me.”
Did that mean he was going to torture Fenrir himself?
Why did that hurt?
What was this unexplainable sharpness at the center of his chest?
“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “What did you do to me?” He shifted and was reminded of the toy. “Take this thing out.”
“It’s keeping you grounded.”
“Keeping me primed for your cock more like,” he growled, only for the alpha to remain stoic.
“I’m not letting my cock anywhere near there.”
Fenrir winced before he could help it. Another strange and out-of-character reaction to add to the growing list. No matter what Oberon claimed, clearly something had been done to him.
“That wasn’t what it sounded like,” the alpha rushed to correct himself, as though he cared about Fen’s feelings.
“It’s not like I want to sleep with you again either, King.”
“I’m going to have to insist you reevaluate that want then,” Oberon surprised him by saying. “Otherwise, I’m afraid we’re both in for a miserable lifetime.”
“What?” Was he playing with him? “You literally just said—”
“Just because I want to wait until I’m sure you won’t freeze my dick clean off,” he stated, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you again eventually, precious. Of course I do. You’re mine.”
“Wait.” There was so much to unpack there, and Fenrir was admittedly still not all together there. If he had to guess, he’d just come out of a feverish state. He’d suffered from influx, which meant his memories would either all return eventually or be lost forever.
There was a full year missing from when he’d been locked in an isolation room at the medical ward after the success of Rebirth.
His entire time being twenty-one, gone as if it’d never existed.
In his mind, he skipped from twenty to twenty-two, then had only made it halfway through that age before encountering another episode that had left him catatonic until the very last month of his twenty-third year.
“How long have I been like this?” Fenrir feared the answer.
“Only a couple of days,” the alpha reassured, having no clue how big a relief that was.
“A trigger,” Fenrir said. “There had to be a trigger.” He shook, rocking the bed in his frustration, and then let out a roar. “Get this thing out of my ass!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, damn it!”
Oberon stared at him silently for a moment and then straightened and walked closer. “If you try anything with your power, I’ll be forced to put you back on the chair.”
“The…” An image of being stuck to a metal seat, the dildo currently lodged in him vibrating nonstop as he was forced to endure orgasm after orgasm flashed in his mind and he shuddered. “Don’t.”
“Don’t make me.” The alpha gave him a dark, warning look as he planted a knee to the mattress between Fenrir’s spread legs. His hand disappeared, and a second later, Fen felt the toy twist slowly within him.
He moaned as the dildo was pulled free, an erotic squelching sound accompanying it as it popped out of his loose hole. A flood of slick pooled down his taint, coating his balls, forming a mess in the sheets he was lying on.
“King.” He didn’t know what he was asking for.
“We’ll give it a few minutes,” Oberon told him, seemingly understanding his emotions better than Fen did. “If you don’t have another spike, we can take that as a sign you’ve returned to normal.”
“Spike?”
“Your energy and pheromones were confused,” he explained, moving to set the dildo on the end table. “They needed time to adjust to your new base settings.”
Fenrir’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the toy. “You had that inside of me this whole time?!”
“What about it?” Oberon tipped his head as though he really didn’t know what the problem was. “It’s modeled after your favorite cock.” His hand cupped himself through his silk pants. “Unfortunately, there’s no knotting feature, otherwise we probably could have cut your recovery time in half.”
“Please stop talking.” He buried his face in the pillow and then quickly lifted it once more.
“No, wait. Continue.” Fenrir had to change his mind about the Butcher.
Even if Oberon said he wasn’t going to let her touch him, if they brought him to her lab…
“What do you want from me? My abilities? I can tell you how they work. There’s no need to—”
“Is that why she kept you around?” he cut him off. “Did Michelle use you to do her dirty work?”
He held the alpha’s gaze, refusing to be ashamed of wanting to survive. “So what if she did?”
“You’ve killed a lot of people.”
It wasn’t a question.
“You didn’t know before I broke the door,” Fen said. “You couldn’t have.”