Chapter 1 #2
My father’s harsh grip tightens, putting an end to my stuttered excuse.
“Enough!”
He shakes me, his voice holding a hint of Alpha Command. He doesn’t need it. I’m too scared to speak. Too afraid to argue.
Too weak, too terrified, too cowardly.
No.
My jaw clenches.
I’m not a coward. Not today, at least. Today I was brave. Today I almost escaped. It’s not my fault that, for the first time in years, Father chose to come home early. I didn’t simply cower in my room, waiting for fate to deal me yet another awful hand. I did something.
I tried.
And look where that got me.
I’m objectively worse off now than I was this morning.
My father glances at the male, and his anger disappears, replaced by an easy mask of professional courtesy.
“My apologies, Alexander. Idril was setting a few things outside for donation.”
He releases my arm, settling his large palm around the back of my neck. His fingers clamp down with deliberate strength that brings tears of pain to my eyes. It’s not only a mockery of what should be a loving gesture.
It’s a message.
He can end my life right now if he wants to. As though I could forget.
Alexander hums, his eerie gaze still boring into mine.
“Donations. How charitable.”
Those dead eyes travel down my body with deliberate slowness. I squirm, desperate to look away from him, but his features are so off-putting that it’s hard to shift my gaze. His expensive, stylish clothes should give him an air of professionalism.
They don’t.
It’s like looking at a half-decayed skeleton in a suit.
His lips are unnaturally thin. So is his hair, but he clearly tries to hide it with a comb-over.
There’s a slight tremble to his limbs, which becomes even more obvious when he extends a hand with thin, dry, spindly fingers toward my face.
The whine I’m holding in finally escapes, ringing through space between us.
My father’s grip on my neck tightens until I’m struggling to breathe.
It’s meant to be a warning, so I bite my cheek until I taste blood, cutting off the sound of distress.
My father hates that I’m an Omega. Any reminder of my designation can send him into a violent fit of anger. Despite how much it hurts to temper my Omega, I’ve become an expert at it over the years.
Silencing my instincts doesn’t hurt nearly as badly as his fists.
Alexander smiles at my obvious show of discomfort, letting his skeletal hand fall back to his side. Clasping both hands behind his back, he turns to my father.
“I take it this is the one?”
“Yes,” Father replies, sounding bored. “This is my daughter.”
Oh gods, oh gods. I was right. He’s selling me. He’s selling me to this monster, and I’m going to die.
Alexander takes another step closer, and I flinch back, clamping my lips together to prevent another Omega whine.
My father’s chest vibrates against my back with a growl, but Alexander simply laughs. It’s a disgusting, wet sound that grates on my nerves.
“Skittish little thing. Well, that’s to be expected, I suppose. You did say she’s rather sheltered.”
My father’s chest puffs out as he stands taller.
“With good reason. She’s an Omega. She hasn’t left the property since thirteen. She’s also been on suppressants. I couldn’t chance her going into heat and attracting the attention of my security. I allow her around no one but me, select staff members, and her physician.”
“And her DNA?”
I frown, confusion washing over me. Despite the awkward angle, I glance at my father, studying his features.
What does my DNA matter? Is Father selling me to this—this—monster? Or is Alexander just some kind of facilitator for other buyers?
To my dismay, Father’s answers don’t offer any explanation. He waves a hand through the air like he’s swatting a fly.
“According to her blood work. Regardless, I won’t decide until I’m finished with her. If I require your assistance, we’ll discuss further.”
My vision tunnels. Tears threaten to fall, but I furiously blink them away, knowing if I cry now, my punishment will be worse.
The heavy weight on my neck finally disappears. Father pins me with a glare so menacing it makes my stomach roll.
My punishment, when it comes, is going to be terrible.
“Upstairs. Now.”
I don’t know why I do it, but I hesitate. Something’s happening. Something I don’t understand, but feel like I should.
Alexander inclines his head, and his tongue sweeps out to lick his lips. It’s too long. Too dark.
I shudder in disgust, and his smile widens.
“Miss Varenthrall,” he says, eyes glinting with interest. “It was a pleasure. I look forward to future meetings.”
Dismissing me, he turns to my father.
“I’d like to see the paperwork from the physician. I understand you have news for me regarding your most recent trials. However, we have a few items to discuss before finalizing our deal.”
My father’s jaw ticks. He’s not an Alpha who negotiates. Whatever they’re working on must be important if he’s appeasing this….
Fates, what is he?
Ignoring me, the two men retreat, turning down the hall toward my father’s wing. I’m still frozen in place. A thousand questions run through my mind, each one worse than the last.
When the door to my father’s study clicks shut a moment later, the sound makes me flinch.
My shoulders slump when my gaze lands on the staircase.
I was so close. So close to finally escaping this prison. How did I let this happen? The air is lighter without Father and Alexander, but my body is still strung tight. It’s too quiet now. I have the overwhelming urge to scream as loud as I can.
Screaming won’t change my situation, though.
My eyes land on the front door, and I stare at it until my vision starts to lose focus. Maybe…
Is it possible I could still run?
Sure, there’s probably more guards now that Father is home, but I can be fast when I need to be.
If I’m quiet and stick to the shadows until I reach the backyard, I can escape into the hedge maze. My balcony overlooks the maze, and I memorized the path years ago. I know how to make it through.
With hesitant movements, I turn toward the door, the plan solidifying.
I still have my bag. I still have a few hours of daylight. Father’s in a meeting, which gives me more time.
If I leave now—
The sound of someone clearing their voice behind me makes me jump. I spin, knowing I’m caught.
If it’s my father, he may actually kill me for not obeying his orders to go directly upstairs.
It’s not my father, but it may as well be. Leaning against the wall, one of his guards stares back at me with a knowing gleam.
“I believe Mr. Varenthrall wanted you upstairs.” His flat tone doesn’t hide the excitement in his eyes.
I don’t recognize him, but that’s not shocking. So few stay long term.
They’re contracted, a contingent of Alpha and Beta humans my father hires to run home security and act as protection detail when he attends meetings in the city.
All of his men are dangerous, and even Betas like this guard fill me with dread.
Just because they’re smaller than the Alphas doesn’t mean they’re safe.
After all, they’re all larger than me.
And they’re all loyal to my father.
I don’t consider hoping this guard will look the other way. None of them have ever helped me, not even when I screamed until my voice gave out.
I learned that the hard way when Father forced me to the basement—
No. Do not think about that. Not right now.
Wrapping my fingers tightly around the strap of my backpack, I ignore the guard and make my way up the stairs and into my room. The whole way, I have to force myself to stay calm and think.
Once I’m back in my room I exhale, closing the double doors behind me and wishing for the millionth time that I had a lock.
It won’t keep out my father, but my instincts don’t care. They crave the feeling of safety, and a lock would help soothe them even if I know logically that it wouldn’t keep me safe.
My backpack lands on the floor with a pathetic thud. I ignore it, kicking off my sneakers and padding across the room to my bed.
I fall onto the mattress, curl into a small ball, and let myself break.
I failed.
I failed to escape, and now my father knows I was trying to leave.
The tears come fast and hard, my body shaking with great heaving sobs as I cry silently into my pillow. It’s been so long since I’ve cried, but I don’t hold anything back. I let it pour out of me in an endless wave of fear and sadness that’s so overwhelming I struggle to breathe.
I’ve faced a dozen beatings over the years. Pain has become another part of life. Something to be endured in silence. The thought of more blood and bruises isn’t responsible for the terror thrumming through my veins.
No, pain won’t break me. Not now. Not after being beaten down to nothing by my own blood over the last decade.
The idea of being sold, though…
That’s what has my stomach clenching and bile surging up my throat.
Who does he plan on selling me to? I mean, Alexander seems more like a middleman than a buyer.
Not that I have experience with either.
The way he looked at me, though…. I didn’t get the impression he wanted me for himself.
And my father made it clear he has other options.
What else is he considering?
Fates… do I even want to know?
My anxiety worsens with every new horror I imagine.
I imagine this is what it feels like to be trapped by a snake. One that wraps you up and coils tighter and tighter until you can no longer breathe. I let myself cry, wetting my blankets with a river of tears that refuse to end.
Eventually, I’m startled by a knock at my door, and the Beta guard from downstairs sounds mocking when he calls in to me.
“Your father will be up shortly.”
I hear his weight settle against the door, and realize he’s not leaving any time soon. Apparently, Father has decided to post a guard outside my door. The reality of my fate settles deeper in my bones.
I feel painfully worthless. For the first time since my mother died, I took action to save myself, and I failed.
Spectacularly.
Now I face either a future with a dead-eyed monster named Alexander, or… what?
I don’t know what’s worse. Knowing what might be coming, or being forced to imagine what other horrors are in store for me.
I wrap my arms tighter around my legs, aching for touch and safety.
Tonight, I miss my mother more than ever. I don’t want to spend my life as a plaything for a monster.
I want to be free.
I want to live.
The four walls of this room—nearly empty after being stripped of anything that might be considered indulgent over the years—close in around me.
The need to escape tingles under my skin. I glance at the doors, being watched by a guard to make sure I don’t leave. My balcony is unlocked, but the fall is too far. I’d never make it, even if I try.
By the time the sun starts to sink below the treeline, I’ve nearly given up hope. I’m an emotional mess, waiting anxiously for my father to arrive.
Just as exhaustion settles in, my balcony doors swing open.
Wind rushes in, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring air. It fills the empty room, rustling the pages of the book I left open on my desk.
For a second, I swear I can almost see it.
It swirls around my bed until the sheets flutter and spin, then moves through the white strands of my hair, twisting them playfully.
My nostrils flare, and the barely-there scent of storm-charged air, cedar, and rain-soaked stone hits my senses, making my Omega stir.
Something about the scent sparks a memory, so fleeting that I barely catch it. It’s faint—the impression of a scent. The memory of it.
It works its way through my lungs and into my body, filling me with hope.
I uncurl my limbs and pad across the room, pulling the balcony doors shut. If it’s going to rain, I can’t fall asleep with them open.
I’m already in enough trouble as it is.
Crawling back into bed, I resign myself to yet another night of tossing and turning. I don’t want to simply accept my fate, but I don’t know what else to do.
Yet, even as I try to convince myself to do just that, something inside pushes back, and a comfortable warmth fills my chest. I close my eyes, relaxing into the feeling. It reminds me of a storm about to break, both comforting and familiar at the same time.
I was brave today.
Now, I’m desperate.
As I fall into sleep, the warmth in my chest grows.
I heard once that desperate people do desperate things.
It’s possible that before my time is up, I might have to try something very, very desperate