Chapter 11 Idril #2
The throbbing in my head has taken over my entire body. My limbs lock up, my mouth gapes open, and the dark at the edges of my vision presses in.
I feel my eyes roll back. My head lolls awkwardly to the side, too heavy for my neck to support.
He drops me.
I slide down the wall in a heap, like a marionette whose strings have been cut. Only my lungs move as I fight for breath, unable to take in more than a trick of air at a time.
Everything’s fuzzy, like I’m in a dream. The pain of not yet obeying the Command may as well be a thousand blocks of concrete pressing on my lungs. Breathing is nearly impossible.
My first real lungful of air forces a whine from my chest. It’s raw, pitiful, and full of pain. Shame crawls up my neck and pools in my cheeks.
I hate how he knows just how terrified I am of him.
“Answer me, Omega!” My father’s Command has a noose around my instincts, making my skin tight and my nerves scream. My limbs shake with pain, and the second full breath I manage gives me no choice but to respond.
Alphas can only use their Command sparingly. It’s some kind of built-in fail-safe to keep them from barking Omegas into full submission and taking advantage of the biological power their designation has over ours.
But my father made a mistake.
Commands have limits. They have to be specific. He ordered me to answer him, but he didn’t order me to tell him the truth.
And I can work with that.
“I don’t—” I wheeze, “—know.”
His Command releases me, and the pain vanishes.
I can finally, blessedly, pull in greedy lungfuls of air. I can’t stay upright any longer, though. Giving in to gravity, I collapse into a boneless heap, a pitiful moan ringing in my ears as my limbs shake and my lungs strain.
My eyes are unfocused. I keep them trained on the floor, not daring to look anywhere else. Father closes the distance between us and crouches down, looming over me.
“You don’t know,” he echoes mockingly. “You expect me to believe that?”
I feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of my head, but that’s fine. He can stare. I answered him, and that was the only thing he Commanded.
He can’t force me to do anything else—not with an Alpha Command, at least.
It’s so demeaning to have your free will snatched away by another person, and I hate him for it.
If I had any regrets choosing Caelan over my Father, those would have dissipated like smoke in the wind the moment he ripped away my autonomy.
His palms slam onto the floor, his hands landing dangerously close to my head. The sound makes me flinch, another jolt of pain striking like lightning through my skull.
“Was it Mara? One of my men? Tell me!”
Spittle flies out of his mouth. I watch it land on the floor next to me, but I stay silent, too terrified to speak.
How did I ever think that living like this was okay?
My vision is still blurry, but I follow the length of him, crouched menacingly in front of me, until I can meet his eyes.
For the first time in my life, I don’t look away.
I hold his glare and give him the only answer he’s going to get out of me.
“I don’t know.”
My voice is raw, and my lips are numb, but I still don’t look away.
Let him see my defiance. Let him see the stubbornness he claims to have failed to beat out of me.
Whether it’s my stubbornness or something else, whatever he sees looking back at him is enough to make him recoil. It’s a tiny movement, but I catch it.
He’s afraid.
It takes all my willpower not to smile at the realization.
His anger reappears like it never left, and his scowl intensifies. He leans in until I can feel the wet warmth of his breath on my tear-stained cheek.
“You idiot girl,” he bites out. “You think I’m so stupid that I believe your door just unlocked itself?”
Despite the pain, I manage to roll onto my back. Panting, I raise my fingers to my neck and prod the tender flesh gently. It’s already swelling. Swallowing feels like trying to choke down glass.
Father straightens to his full height above me. He plants his fists on his hips and closes his eyes, taking slow, even breaths to calm down.
When he locked me in the basement, he was entirely civilized until we got down there. Then he ripped off his mask and showed me exactly what kind of monster he is.
Watching him put that same civilized mask back on is even more disturbing than seeing it come off.
My arms shake as I push myself up. “I’ve been asleep. You haven’t fed me in days.”
It’s an excuse as well as an accusation.
I long ago gave up hoping he’ll feel remorse for his abuse, and I’m not surprised by his lack of it this time, either.
He slides his hands into the pockets of his expensive trousers and rocks back on his heels as though considering my words.
He nods to himself like he’s come to some kind of conclusion.
“You’re protecting them.” He’s looking at me oddly. Like for the first time, he’s realizing I’m not just his compliant Omega daughter.
I work hard to keep a mask of confusion on my features. I can’t let anything slip. I have to let this play out—tell the lie until I believe it myself.
“I’m not.” I insist, choosing each word carefully. “Only Mara and your men know I’m here, and Mara has never pushed against your punishments before. She’s not brave enough to disobey you. No one is.”
I emphasize the last part, hoping that if I stroke his ego, he’ll choose to believe me. My father is undeniably arrogant. He always thinks he’s the biggest, strongest, most terrifying man in the room.
To be completely fair, most of the time, he is.
“You’ve grown brave, daughter,” he says, almost conversationally. “You’ve never stood up to me before. Now, you’ve done so twice in one week.”
He strides through my empty room with a casual air, making a point to take everything in like he’s never seen it before.
Who knows, maybe he hasn’t.
He slowly began taking everything away from me over the last few years, and I can’t remember the last time he came up here to do something besides beating me.
“I can respect bravery,” he continues. “But not stupidity. And if you’re hiding something from me, Idril… that is very, very stupid.”
He walks to the door, but pauses at the threshold to glare at me over his shoulder.
“Whoever you’re protecting, I will find out. When I do, I will end them.” His threat is delivered with a calm certainty that’s more terrifying than if he shouted.
He gives me a mocking smile, then delivers the final blow.
“When I’m finished destroying them, dear daughter, it will be your turn. I will bleed you dry. Until nothing of you remains but regret.”
He storms out, leaving my bedroom doors wide open behind him. The very doors he was so furious about finding unlocked.
The irony isn’t lost on me. He’s sending me a message—telling me without words that it doesn’t matter if my doors are locked, unlocked, or standing wide open.
I can leave if I want to, but we both know I have nowhere to run.
He’s wrong, though.
I’ve already made my first move to escape. He just doesn’t know it.
He has no idea about Caelan