Chapter 16 #2
"None of those sound like fun," I muttered, my arms crossing over my chest.
"They're not meant to be," Mason acknowledged, leaning forward slightly, his gaze intense.
"They're meant to show you that fighting is pointless.
We're not going to hurt you, Ava. We're not going to beat you into submission or starve you until you comply.
But we're also not going to let you destroy yourself out of spite. "
"What if I don't want to eat?" I challenged, lifting my chin defiantly. "What if I don't want to be fed? What if I just want to be left alone?"
"Then you'll learn," Caleb said from the doorway, his deep voice rumbling through the kitchen like distant thunder, making me flinch.
He hadn't spoken in so long I'd almost forgotten he was there.
His ice-blue eyes bore into mine, patient and implacable.
"That being alone isn't an option anymore.
That fighting us only hurts you. That eventually, it's easier to give in than to keep struggling. "
"That sounds like a threat," I said, my voice wavering slightly despite my best efforts.
"It's not," Caleb replied, his massive frame still as stone, his voice calm and certain. "It's a promise. You loved us once, Ava. Before you learned to be afraid. We're going to remind you what that felt like."
There it was again. That phrase. You loved us once. He'd said it last night, through the bathroom door. Said it like it was an undeniable fact instead of a distant memory I'd spent years trying to forget. The problem was, he wasn't wrong.
I had loved them once. When I was young and naive and didn't understand what they were. When Mason's smile made my heart race and Caleb's silent protection made me feel safe. When Leo's jokes made me laugh until my stomach hurt and Ethan's attention made me feel special.
I'd loved them with the pure, uncomplicated devotion of a child who didn't know any better.
Then I'd grown up. Presented as an Omega.
Seen the hunger in their eyes and understood exactly what they wanted from me.
My mother had warned me. Had spent years telling me that Alphas couldn't be trusted, that they only wanted one thing, that I had to stay suppressed and independent and alone. I'd thought she was paranoid.
Now I knew she was right.
"I'm not eating this," I said, standing abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "I'm going back to the bedroom."
None of them moved to stop me. Through the bond, I felt their patience—vast and infuriating and completely unshakeable.
They weren't worried. They should have been.
I didn't go to the bedroom. I went to the bathroom instead, the only room with a lock, even if that lock was electronic and could be overridden at any moment.
I turned the knob, heard the click of the mechanism engaging, and leaned against the door.
My heart was pounding. My head was starting to ache. The bond-separation symptoms were already kicking in, just from being in a different room. I didn't care. I needed space. Needed to breathe without their presence suffocating me.
I slid down the door until I was sitting on the cold tile floor, my knees drawn up to my chest. The bandage on my neck itched. Four bite marks, hidden beneath gauze. Four permanent reminders of what they'd taken from me.
Through the bond, I felt them. Mason's calm concern.
Ethan's analytical interest. Leo's restless energy.
Caleb felt like patience itself, like a mountain waiting for erosion to reshape it.
They weren't worried because they knew this was temporary.
They knew I'd have to come out eventually.
They knew the bonds would punish me for hiding, would drive me back to them whether I wanted it or not.
They'd designed this cage so perfectly that I couldn't even rebel without hurting myself.
I sat there for two hours. By the end, my head was splitting.
Nausea rolled through me in waves. My hands were shaking, and my skin felt too tight, like something was trying to claw its way out from the inside.
Underneath all of it: the pull. The desperate, animal need to go to them. To let them hold me. To stop fighting and just give in.
I heard footsteps in the hallway. Heavy. Measured. Caleb. The lock clicked open, overridden from the outside, and the door swung inward. He stood in the doorway, massive and implacable, his broad shoulders blocking the light, his ice-blue eyes looking down at me with calm certainty.
"It's time for lunch," Caleb said, his deep voice rumbling through the small space, filling every corner.
"I'm not hungry," I replied, the words coming out weak and pathetic, my voice hoarse.
"I know," he acknowledged, his expression unchanging, his tone matter-of-fact. "But you're eating anyway."
"You can't make me," I insisted, but even I could hear how feeble the protest sounded. Something flickered across his harsh features—not anger, not frustration. Almost amusement. His lips twitched slightly.
"Yes," Caleb said simply, his voice low and absolute. "I can." He bent down and scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other around my back. I struggled—kicked and thrashed and screamed, but it was useless. He was too strong, his arms like iron bands around my body.
"Put me down!" I shrieked, my fists pounding uselessly against his chest, my legs kicking at empty air. "Put me the fuck down!"
"No," Caleb replied flatly, utterly unbothered by my struggles, carrying me as easily as if I were a child. He carried me down the hallway like I was throwing a tantrum, because that's exactly what I was, wasn't it? A child throwing a tantrum against forces she couldn't control.
The kitchen came into view. The table was set for lunch—sandwiches, soup, glasses of water.
Mason sat at one end, watching our approach with calm patience, his honey-brown eyes soft but resolved.
Ethan was back at his tablet, barely glancing up, his green eyes flicking briefly to assess the situation.
Leo was grinning, the bastard, his gray eyes dancing with amusement, clearly enjoying the show.
Caleb sat down in one of the chairs and settled me in his lap, his massive arms wrapping around me like a cage. I immediately tried to get up. His arms tightened, pinning me in place, his chest solid and warm against my back.
"Let me go," I hissed, struggling against his iron grip, my body twisting uselessly.
"No," Caleb repeated, the word rumbling through his chest and into my back, his voice calm and implacable. "You refused to eat breakfast. You locked yourself in the bathroom to avoid lunch. Now you're going to sit here and eat like a good Omega, or Mason's going to feed you by hand."
"I'd rather starve," I spat, my voice venomous.
"That's not an option," Mason said, his voice drawing my attention. He'd moved closer, a sandwich in his hand, his honey-brown eyes patient but firm. "We told you the rules, Ava. We told you the consequences. You chose to test us."
"Fuck you," I snarled, glaring at him with all the hatred I could muster.
"Open your mouth," Mason said calmly, ignoring my venom, holding the sandwich up to my lips. "Eat." I clamped my jaw shut, my teeth grinding together, my green eyes blazing with defiance.
"Ava," Mason said, his voice gentle but implacable, his honey-brown eyes holding mine. "You can eat this sandwich yourself, like an adult, or I can feed it to you like a child. Either way, you're eating. The only question is how much of your dignity you want to keep."
Dignity. Like I had any left. I was sitting in Caleb's lap, pinned by his massive arms, while Mason tried to hand-feed me like an infant. Leo was watching with undisguised amusement, his smirk wide and delighted. Ethan was taking notes on his fucking tablet, his green eyes clinical and detached.
This was rock bottom. This was absolute humiliation.
And it was only the first day.
"Please," I whispered, and I hated how small my voice sounded, how the word came out broken and desperate. "Please just let me go."
"We can't do that," Mason replied softly, something almost like regret in his voice—though through the bond, I felt no actual remorse, only love. "We love you too much to let you destroy yourself. But I promise, if you just cooperate, this doesn't have to be hard."
"You're asking me to give up," I said, my voice cracking.
"I'm asking you to stop fighting a battle you've already lost," Mason replied, lowering the sandwich, meeting my eyes with quiet intensity. "You're claimed. Bonded. Ours. That's not going to change. The only thing you control now is how difficult you make this for yourself."
Tears burned in my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Through the bond, I felt their love. Their certainty. Their absolute conviction that this was right, that I would come around, that one day I would thank them for this.
I felt Caleb's patience, solid as bedrock beneath me. I felt the pull of the bonds, demanding that I submit, that I let them take care of me, that I stop fighting and just let go. I felt something else, too. Something buried so deep I barely recognized it.
The memory of loving them.
"Fine," I said, the word tearing out of me like a surrender, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Give me the fucking sandwich." Mason's face softened with approval, warmth flooding through the bond from his direction.
He handed me the sandwich, and I took it with shaking hands.
Caleb's arms loosened slightly, giving me room to eat.
I took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. It tasted like ash, but I kept eating. When I finished the sandwich, Mason handed me a bowl of soup. I ate that too, spoonful by mechanical spoonful.
Caleb's arms stayed around me the whole time, warm and solid and inescapable. Through the bond, I felt his satisfaction, not triumph, but genuine pleasure at seeing me fed. Like I was a pet that had finally learned a trick.
"Good girl," Mason murmured when I finished, his voice soft with praise, and I flinched at the words, at the way they made something warm bloom in my chest despite my hatred.
"Can I go now?" I asked, my voice flat, my eyes fixed on the empty bowl.
"You can go to your nest," Mason allowed, nodding once. "Dinner is at six. I expect you at the table." I looked at him, really looked at him. Golden hair. Warm brown eyes. That patient, gentle smile that hid the predator underneath.
"I hate you," I said quietly, the words landing between us like stones.
"I know," Mason replied, completely unbothered, his smile never wavering. "You'll get over it."
Caleb's arms released me, and I stood on shaky legs, my body feeling weak and hollow. The bond-separation symptoms were gone, contact with him had erased them completely, leaving me feeling almost normal. Almost human.
I walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
At dinner, I sat at the table without being asked. I ate everything on my plate without protest.
Caleb's voice echoed in my head: Eventually, it's easier to give in than to keep struggling.
I was starting to understand what he meant. And I hated myself for it.