Chapter 19
Kasey
I tried to sit still on the floor, but stillness had never been neutral for me. Stillness meant waiting. Waiting meant evaluation. Which in turn meant consequences if I didn’t stay still.
My body remembered that even if Evander didn’t know. My body will always remember.
I tried to follow Evander’s words. Just exist. But my body didn’t know how to obey something that was vague. Obedience I understood. Silence, I understood. Stillness…that was harder.
I kept my hands folded in my lap, fingers digging into the fabric of the shirt. My toes tapped against the carpet in an uneven rhythm I couldn’t quite stop. Breathing quietly was easy; I’d been trained to make myself soundless. But staying still felt like trying to hold back a tide.
I tested the space, flattening them against the carpet. Nothing happened. No corrections. No sharp voice. No hand closed around my throat.
I rocked my feet on their heels. Back and forth. Back and forth. I waited for the moment I’d gone too far. I waited for the reprimand that never came.
Evander’s words kept circling in my head, soft but impossible to hold onto.
You don’t have to serve me. You don’t have to do anything.
They didn’t fit anywhere inside me. They didn’t match the rules I’ve lived by for years. They didn’t match the version of what I’ve been shaped into.
I didn’t know who I was without them, without structure. Without consequences. I didn’t know who I was without the constant pressure to perform correctly.
A quiet, frightened thought rose in my chest before I could stop it.
Who am I without rules and punishment?
The question sat heavy, unfamiliar, and far too big. I stared down at my hands, trying to steady the tremor in my fingers, trying to breathe through confusion, tightening my ribs.
Evander was only a few feet away, calm and steady, but I felt like I was standing on the edge of something I didn’t understand. Something that asked me to be a person instead of a role. And I didn’t know how to be a person.
How could I when all my personality has been stripped of me, piece by piece? And in turn, those pieces were replaced by robotic obedience.
I tried to hold myself together, but the effort felt like balancing on a thin wire stretched over a drop I couldn’t see.
If I’m not following rules…then what am I supposed to do?
My breath stuttered in my chest as the walls around me felt like they were about to cave in.
If I didn’t follow rules, then I wasn’t perfect; I wasn’t obedient. And Omegas were always obedient while in the presence of an Alpha.
I curled my toes into the carpet, grounded myself the only way I knew how, and whispered inside my own mind.
Don’t fall apart. Not here. Not now. Just…. Hold on.
I held myself together the only way I knew how. I pretended I wasn’t falling apart. I pretended that I was anywhere but with an Alpha who had the power to make me hurt.
I kept my posture tight, my hands folded neatly in my lap, and toes pressed into the carpet. My breathing stayed controlled, because panicking now meant punishment, at least at Lockswell it did.
Evander hasn’t gone over punishments yet, and I kind of wished he did. But surely whatever he thought best would be what I’d get. Nothing worse than what the handlers did could scare me.
But hiding the panic wasn’t going to make it stop.
It crawled up my spine in small, sharp waves, tightening my chest and making my fingers tremble.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I had to be fine.
Maybe if I told myself enough times, I’d finally believe it.
Sometimes, it worked. But most of the time, it only made me fall harder.
At Lockswell, I got decent enough at hiding the panic that clawed its way through my entire body.
I was good at pretending; good at ignoring it until I could have a moment in a bathroom or hide away in my small room.
It’d be just enough to let it simmer over the edge like a pot of milk before I got a lid on it again.
But I knew panic. I knew it was going to blow like a volcano if I didn’t get the lid tight enough. And that had to happen. Right now.
I brought the shirt up to my nose, hoping an Alpha’s scent would steady me. It wasn’t a dramatic movement, just a small tilt of my head and a soft inhale of the fabric. It was a trick I learned without drawing attention to myself.
It helped me. A tiny bit.
It smelt like Evander’s laundry soap. Clean, warm and something almost like a cedar. It wasn’t sterile or chemical, like the odor of everything I was used to.
This…this smelt safe.
I breathed it in again, slower this time, trying to let the scent anchor me. I tried to convince my body that I wasn’t in danger. No one was watching me for mistakes. That no punishment was coming since I didn’t break a rule yet.
But the panic didn’t care about the logic.
My chest still felt tight, and my arms begam to tremble from the force of staying still.
I could hide it. I had to hide it.
“Kasey?”
I lifted my eyes just enough to see the shape of Evander leaning forward. Then, just as quickly, I dropped my gaze again, like looking any higher might burn me.
Evander’s voice came low, careful. “What’s wrong?”
The question hit with a jolt.
What was wrong?
Everything felt too big, too loose, too unstructured. But if I opened my mouth, panic would spill out and panic was something I had to hide. Panic was something an Omega buried so deep; no one could see it.
I shook my head fast, hair brushing my cheeks, hoping the movement looked casual instead of desperate.
I tried to breathe the way I’d been taught. But the air felt thick. My mind was tired, worn thin from trying to understand a world without rules.
My body ached in familiar ways; the kind of ache I learned to ignore because acknowledging it never helped.
The changes were too much. The freedom was too much. The lack of direction was too much.
I didn’t know how to exist without boundaries. I didn’t know how to be a person without someone telling me what a person should look like.
And beneath all of it, something softer tugged at me. Something I didn’t dare say aloud.
I wanted Mama.
I wanted to be eight again, running barefoot through the yard with Evy chasing me.
I wanted the creek and the fish that tickled my toes.
I wanted a world where safety wasn’t something I had to earn.
I wanted….
The thought broke apart before I could finish it. My chest tightened. Tears welled before I could blink them away, blurring the edges of the room.
I gulped in a breath, forcing air into lungs that didn’t want to cooperate, trying to hold myself together before the cracks showed too clearly.
I tried. I really tried. But my body wasn’t listening.
I sniffed once, trying to pull myself together. The shirt’s scent helped a heartbeat, then didn’t. Everything felt too close, too loud, too much.
I wanted to take off the shirt. I wanted to hide in the shower, letting the cold-water rain down on me and wash away the feeling.
Evander leaned forward, right on the edge of the couch. I could see the shift in my peripheral.
Please, I begged, closing my eyes so the Alpha couldn’t see.
I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted it all to just...stop. I wanted the panic to go away. I wanted orders. I wanted pain.
I wanted to freaking breathe.
“Kasey, breathe, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t.
I pressed my fingers into my sides, nails digging just enough to give my mind something sharp to hold onto. The sting cut through the rising panic for a heartbeat, just long enough for a sob to tear loose from somewhere deep within.
But it didn’t help me breathe.
My lungs stayed tight, refusing to pull in the air. My vision blurred. My body shook. I tried to swallow it down, tried to force myself quietly, and tried to hide the panic. But I was slipping.
Everything felt too big. Too much. Too fast.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t make myself stay still.
Then, Evander’s voice came. It was closer now, low and rough around the edges like the sound hurt him too. “Kasey.”
I didn’t have the strength to flitch when warm palms cupped my damp cheeks. I didn’t fight the gentle tug lifting my face. I didn’t resist when Evander leaned in until our foreheads touched, grounding me with his warmth.
“You’ve got the breathe, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice catching. “I’m telling you to breathe.”
Oh.
A command. Something my body understood.
I dragged in a shaky, uneven breath. It came out as a chocked sob-cough, but it was air. I tried again. And again. Each inhale jagged, each exhale trembling.
Evander stayed right there, hands steady on my face, forehead pressed to mine, voice soft and sure.
“In and out. That’s it. Good boy, Kase. So good for me.”
I clung to the rhythm, to the warmth, to the sound of Evander’s voice guiding me through the panic that I could no longer hide.
Evander’s words made something inside me twist painfully. I didn’t know how to accept them, because I wasn’t good. Not when I panicked; not when I hadn’t served him. But I still hung onto them. I wanted to be good. To be good for him.
My breath hitched again, but this time I didn’t stop it. It kept going, because Evander told me to breathe. He told me to be good; that I was good.
I didn’t notice when my knees shifted. I didn’t notice when my weight tipped forward. Didn’t notice when my fingers let go of the shirt and reached for something solid.
I only realized I was moving when my body was already halfway there. By the time awareness caught up, I was climbing into Evander’s lap like a child seeking warmth in the dark.
My breath hitched in my throat, panic flaring at the realization.
I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t be touched. I shouldn’t be taking up space. I shouldn’t be wanting comfort.
But my body kept going anyways, guided by something deeper than rules and training.
The Alpha didn’t stop me.
Evander only shifted enough to support the weight, hands sliding from my cheeks to my shoulders, steading me without holding me down.
I froze then, half on half off the Alpha’s lap, fingers curling into his shirt instead of the one I wore.
I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even fully understand what I was trying to do.
I just…needed.
And for the first time in years, my body reacted to what it needed before my mind could stop it.
Evander’s voice came low, barely above a whisper that I felt more than I heard.
“Easy, sweet boy. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
My breath broke again, but this time, it didn’t panic. It was a relief so sharp it hurt.
I pressed closer, my forehead tucked under Evander’s jaw, my body curling instinctively into the space offered to me. My knees drew up, shoulders trembling, and breath catching in little stutters I couldn’t hide.
I felt the steady rise and fall of the Alpha’s chest beneath my cheek, and the rhythm anchored me more than the shirt ever could.
I didn’t know why I was allowed to do this. I didn’t know why Evander wasn’t pushing me away. I didn’t know why the world wasn’t collapsing around me.
But Evander’s arms shifted, wrapping around me. Not tight, not restraining. Just enough to hold me in place, to let me know he wasn’t falling.
My grip tightened again, a small desperate sound escaping me before I could swallow it down. I buried my face deeper into his shirt, trying to hide the tears, the shaking, the way my body was betraying every rule I’d ever learned.
Evander didn’t flinch. He didn’t correct me. He didn’t tell me to stop.
He just held me, steady and warm, breathing slow enough that I could match him if I tried.
And for the first time in years, clinging to another didn’t feel like a mistake.
It felt like survival.