Chapter 4
Charlie
The door shut behind me with a sound too soft to be safe. It was so different than the slam of the car door moments before where I jerked before remembering my place.
The Alpha didn’t speak, simply walked ahead, expecting me to follow.
I did.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
No creaking floors. No humming appliances. Just silence, like the walls were listening.
Everything smelled like him—leather, smoke, something warm I couldn’t name.
I kept my eyes low, but I saw enough. Clean lines. Dark wood. No clutter. No comfort.
It wasn’t a home. Just a building that housed a man who now owned me for the time being.
I stepped onto the white tile. The same kind of cold as the hospital floor.
That thought came uninvited.
I blinked hard, but the memory bled through anyway, the fluorescent lights that shone too bright from a time I didn’t want to recall. His voice cut through it. “Shoes off.”
I obeyed.
The silence returned. But now it wasn’t just quiet. It was loaded. Like the house knew what I’d remembered. Like Alpha Harris did too.
I followed him down the hall. The walls were bare. No photos. No art. Just shadow.
Until on a table near the stairs, tucked between two heavy books was a stuffed rabbit. It was faded gray with one ear bent.
I stopped, not able to help myself. The Alpha didn’t. He kept walking like it wasn’t there. Like it didn’t mean anything. But it did. Because nothing in this house was accidental.
“Charles.” My name was spoken in warning, and I hurried to catch up, shoving my hands into a tight fist against one another.
I had to remember that these things, even if they looked like they belonged somewhere else, weren’t mine to touch. Wasn’t mine to look at. They were pieces of items that belonged to the Alpha.
My feet followed Alpha Harris through the house like they belonged to someone else.
I barely registered the rooms as we passed—living room, kitchen, office. All clean. The walls held a few scattered frames, but nothing personal. No faces. No warmth.
Upstairs, there were three bedrooms. Two were identical containing a full bed, plain dresser, single window. No dust. No clutter. No signs of life.
The third room was his at the end of the hall, and he saved it for last.
It made me wonder if he actually lived here, or if he was just renting the space.
He stopped in the doorway of one of the empty rooms. “This is yours,” he said. “For now.”
I slowly stepped inside. My fingers brushed the edge of the dresser’s smooth top.
The window faced a row of fields for as far as my eyes could see. Green so bright that it glittered in the sunlight.
I turned back toward Alpha Harris. He hadn’t moved. Just stood in the doorway, watching. What did he see in me? What did he truly want with me?
“This is yours,” he repeated. “For now.” His voice didn’t echo. It landed flat, like the room had swallowed it whole.
I nodded, a bit confused about why he possibly wanted me to be in a different room from him. But I wouldn’t question it. I wasn’t allowed to.
“The sheets are clean,” he went on, leaning against the door jam. “I’ll have clothes delivered for you in an hour or so.”
Again, I nodded. My fate was already accepted here. My mind and body knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded me.
“I have a few things I have to take care of. You are welcome to rest, or explore the house. Don’t leave the house, or try to open any locked doors.”
I nodded, letting my gaze travel to the window again. It was safer. The outside gave me something to look at, something to focus on instead of my own muted thoughts and fogged vision.
“The bathroom is through the door over there. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
I stood in the center of the bedroom, unmoving. The door clicked shut behind the Alpha, but I didn’t turn to check if it had locked. I didn’t need to.
I was thankful for the moment to gather myself, to center my bearings, and prepare for what was to come.
The room was twice the size of what I had. There was space to spread out, space to pace. The dark curtains were dust-free, and hung down from the window frame, as though they were always there. A simple thing that I wasn’t allowed to have, and I didn’t dare touch.
My eyes scanned the space like I was cataloging it for evidence. The sheets were tucked too tightly. The pillow had no indent, as if never been slept on before.
I stepped forward and touched the edge of the dresser. Cool. Smooth. No fingerprints. I opened the top drawer slowly, half-expecting something—anything—to be inside. Empty. Each drawer was the same.
I turned toward the bed and sat on its edge. It didn’t give under my weight. My shoulders curled inward, spine rigid, like I was bracing for something. The silence pressed against my ears, louder than any scream.
I stared at the wall across from me. Beige. Blank. No photos, no art, no indication that anyone had ever looked at it before.
I tried to count the seconds. Then the breaths. Then the exits.
One door. One window. No vents big enough to crawl through.
My hands gripped the edge of the mattress. I didn’t cry. I didn’t speak. But something inside me began to fold, quietly, like paper.
I was left here, alone, just like I always was. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my misery.
Breathing through my nose, I forced the thoughts to swim away. They weren’t welcome here, as they didn’t belong to me. My body didn’t belong to me.
I was owned and had to perform to whatever the Alpha wanted of me.
I had been trained all my life for a moment like this. I was trained to behave like this were all second nature and to not question a single thing that was said or done to my body.
I knew the best option was for me to turn off my thoughts, like I so often did when I had clients. But I knew this was different and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
Taking the Alpha’s words, even if they weren’t a direct order, I’d rest. And wait until I was called upon to serve him.
Sliding farther onto the bed, the mattress cradled me in its quiet give. I didn’t have the strength to reach for the comforter, let alone pull it over myself. So I stayed there, resting atop the softness like it might swallow me whole.
As the seconds ticked by, my eyes refused to stay open. With each blink, it was harder and harder to keep them open.
Soon, they didn’t reopen as sleep claimed me, my body relaxing into the soft cloud beneath me.
***
My eyes flashed open, and everything instantly came crashing down around me like a tidal wave.
I wasn’t in my bed at the boarding house.
The borrowed room was brightened by the sunlight that cast in through the window, which was normal no matter what bedroom I woke up in.
Not quite ready to move and face the rest of the day, I burrowed more under a blanket that I didn’t remember putting over myself.
The bed felt as though it was holding me hostage, its soft confines wrapped around my body, protecting me in a way a mattress never had before.
At the boarding house, the beds were stiff by design. Functional. Unforgiving. They weren’t meant to cradle anyone, least of all an Omega.
Comfort had never been part of the equation. But some small, stupid part of me still wished someone had cared enough to consider it.
Unsure of what was required of me, I took one slow, deep breath before moving to slip from the bed.
I was in uncharted territory here. This wasn’t the Lockswells’ Boarding house where every second of my waking hours was accounted for. This wasn’t in a themed room where I already knew my place.
This was a stranger’s house that had rules that I had yet to figure out.
As my feet touched the soft carpeted floor, a voice grew stronger as it neared. It wasn’t the Alpha. It was lighter, and one that I vaguely recalled.
The only thing I could do was freeze, my eyes pinned to the floor where my feet rested.
In any other sort of normalcy, if I weren’t a stupid Omega, I’d have hidden back into the covers. I’d have pretended that the outside world didn’t exist.
Squaring my shoulders, I kept my gaze glued to the floor as whoever had raised their voice moments before entered the room. I heard the gasp, as though he wasn’t expecting me to be here.
Did this Alpha already had an Omega in his possession? Was I here for their entertainment?
I’ve heard of that before.
Alphas enjoyed the thrill of making their own Omega jealous. They enjoyed toying with the hearts and desires. It was, after all, their nature. Or so I had been told.
“I have clothes for you.” There was a rustle of material as cloth bags were set on the end of the bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the light cream cloth.
The Omega gently set a small pile of clothes closer to me before digging back into one of the bags that I couldn’t see.
Knowing an order was given, even if it was indirectly, I slipped my shirt over my head. Modesty wasn’t something I had. It’d been beaten out of me years ago, as were a lot of things. It was like second nature to slip off my pants, bending over and pulling them off my feet.
I halfway decided on what to do about the underwear. Ones that I had put on just that morning knowing what type of client I was supposed to have.
Would Alpha Harris like them? Would he rather I go without? Or did he want me to wear something he personally picked out?
“Keep those on.” The Omega spoke, answering my unasked questions like he knew.
So, I did what he said.
I didn’t take the time to see what the Alpha had required me to wear. It didn’t matter in the end. It was all for show.
“Charlie.”
It’d been so long since I’d heard that voice utter that name. I still didn’t look towards it. I didn’t react other than to wipe my sweaty palms down the sides of my black covered pants.
I wasn’t that person. I never was, and never would be.
I was just an Omega boy who would follow the lead of whatever Alpha I was in the care of. They’d call me whatever they wished to; they’d do what they’d want. And I’d have no say in any of it.