Chapter 4
Wren
Iwake up on a bare mattress.
Shivering, I sit up and look around. The room they shoved me in last night is half the size of the one I had back home—which wouldn’t be a problem if it had anything in it besides a twin-sized mattress.. It’s not a proper nest. I was informed that I have to “earn” it.
I have to earn my fucking nest. Not even my parents deprived me of a nest.
My eyes catch on the alarm clock next to the bed. Fuck. It’s six seventeen.
I should have been in Starbrook City by now. With Teddy. Instead, I’m scrambling off the mattress in last night’s dress, wishing I could forget my memories from the last twelve hours.
“As our omega, we expect you to make us breakfast every morning,” Kellan says, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he drives me away from one jail to another.
The car is flooded with a mix of their scents, harsh, oppressive, and suffocating.
A smell like cigarette smoke, a metallic tang, and something else that makes my eyes water.
“We’ll be at work during lunch hours, so you’re on your own for that, but we have a chef come cook us dinner. ”
Swallowing, I nod. “I understand.”
Jasper smirks, his hand tightening on my knee. I have a brief flash in my mind of slapping it away, but just as quickly it dissipates, and I give a weak smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
“That means six-thirty sharp,” he adds. “Victor has insisted we give you the night to yourself, but starting tomorrow, one of us will be sleeping in the bed with you each night.”
At least one of them seems to care how hard this is for me.
But…they’ll be sleeping with me? They have to know that I’m a virgin. In fact, despite the way it makes my stomach turn, I have no choice but to acknowledge that it was probably a huge selling point.
Grateful that I have another twenty-four hours to try to convince them that maybe I just don’t have a vagina, I glance at Victor, who won’t meet my eyes. “Thank you.”
Victor snorts. “Don’t thank me, Freckles.” The nickname isn’t affectionate. Just condescending. “I just don’t want to sleep on a bare mattress tonight.”
My heart sinks even further. “A…a bare mattress?”
“Right,” Kellan sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “we’ve heard you’ve been rather troublesome, and we thought we’d try a new…training technique.”
I’ve apparently become a parrot. “Training?”
Jasper’s grip becomes painful, his fingers digging into the flesh of my skin. I choke down my yelp. “For every task you do correctly, you’ll get to pick one nesting item from what you brought with you. For every screw up, you’ll get one taken away. I think that sounds fair, don’t you?”
No. No it doesn’t sound fair. It sounds mean, and cruel, and against every “how to care for your omega” book alphas can buy, but when I look up and see the hard glint in Kellan’s eyes through the rearview mirror, I bite my tongue.
I can do this. I survived twenty-one years in a home with bullies, I can manage a little longer before I find a way to escape.
“The house needs to be cleaned too,” Victor adds, still staring out the window. “I prefer to have my laundry done daily, and there’s a very specific way my bed needs to be made.”
“I understand,” I say quietly.
“I think we can have a good relationship, Wren.” Kellan’s tone is all business. “As long as you follow the rules, everything will run smoothly.”
I hope I don’t catch hell for being in last night’s dress and not dressed properly. My fingers smooth through my hair in an attempt to look presentable as I run down the stairs.
When I had asked for my suitcase, I was told that I would get it back once they’d gone through it.
Once they’d removed any clothing they deemed offensive.
I spent half the night crying myself to sleep because my pajamas, the only vaguely comfortable clothes my mother would let me buy, were thrown away.
“Our omega sleeps nude,” Jasper had said, a cruel glint in his eye.
I slide into the kitchen, fuzzy socks on my feet, and rush to throw something together. Thank fuck Freida taught me how to make a few basic staples when I was younger. Mother never taught me anything—I’m not sure she even knows how.
The pan sizzles as I crack six eggs, adding cheese to make a scramble. Toast is in the toaster, and bacon is crackling on the stove.
By the time Kellan, Jasper, and Victor come downstairs, I’m pretty proud of my little feast laid out on the table, complete with silverware laid out nice and tidy.
I stand, my hands clasped in front of me while they pull out their chairs and sit down at the table.
“Wren?” Kellan’s tone is indecipherable.
Dammit. Now I know I messed up something.
“Yes?” I try to make my voice light and breezy, but it comes out choked.
“What the fuck is this slop?” Jasper’s fork stabs the pile of egg and cheese experimentally, and Victor eyes the toast with distaste.
His tone makes me shrink in on myself. “Um…slop? It’s um, a scramble, with toast and bacon—”
“I know what it is,” Kellan cuts me off, his eyes hard. “I just don’t know why you thought it was okay to serve it to us.”
“This is inedible,” Jasper declares, standing up and dumping his plate in the trash.
My stomach turns. “Wait—”
“You can’t even make fucking toast right,” Victor sneers, following his lead and dumping his plate in the sink.
“If we leave now, we can grab breakfast on the way to work.” Jasper strides out of the room without a backwards glance.
Victor follows not far behind him, and in the next moment, I’m shrinking in on myself as Kellan backs me against the kitchen counter.
“It is your first day,” Kellan’s voice is deadly quiet, as he leans in close to my ear, “so I will be lenient and not punish you for this fuck up. If you do the rest of your duties perfectly, you’ll have a bedsheet to sleep on tonight. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I can barely whisper.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Alpha.” The words burn coming up. They’re wrong. He’s not my alpha. None of them are. But I have to show them what they want to see.
“Good.” He straightens, taking a step back. “Don’t forget, Wren. We’re always watching.” He points up, drawing my attention to a security camera in the corner. “And yes,” he gives a cruel grin, “they’re everywhere.”
My blood runs cold.
“Everywhere?” I squeak out, my legs starting to shake.
He doesn’t answer, just smirks as he turns his back on me, leaving me to clean up the mess of breakfast that nobody ate.
The house is spotless.
I’ve wiped every counter, cleaned every toilet, done every scrap of laundry I can find, and now, I’m scrubbing at a stubborn stain in the sink for the fiftieth time.
I thought about trying to leave. Just walking out the front door. But they have this electronic lock on it that can’t be disengaged manually—they control it from their phones. Something I’m reminded of every time I hear the tell-tale “beep” and then the turning of the mechanism.
The back door in the kitchen might be a good option, but then…
where would I go? I could try to find a phone to call Teddy, but I can’t be caught wandering around unattended.
The Omega Rights Act only passed four years ago—I’m more likely to be taken into custody by the police and returned to my “rightful owners” if they come across me.
The only thing keeping me sane is the thought of Teddy.
If I had a cell phone, I could have texted him before Pack Caruso took me away.
These men seem like they might have secret phones lying around—something my father did.
But I’m too afraid to search this house for one.
Like Kellan said, they have eyes everywhere, and I don’t want to put Teddy in danger if they look up the number I tried to call.
He has to have found my note, I’m sure of it.
“Caramel Drizzle” was the only thing I could think to write that wouldn’t draw suspicion from anyone that holds any sort of meaning for us.
Since he must’ve found it, he’s probably taken it to his roommate, and somehow, they’ll be able to figure out where I went and what happened to me.
And then some way, somehow, he’ll get me out.
He has to.
There’s no way I can stay here the rest of my life.
And tonight…one of them is sleeping in my bed with me.
It’s unclear to me if they’re the type of alphas who would enjoy a struggle, or if they need their women to fawn over them.
Either way, I need to figure something out. A way to keep them away, even if it means I lose all my nesting items in the process.
I refuse to let them touch me without my permission. I will scratch and claw my way out if I have to. They can make me clean and do their laundry. They can intimidate me into complying with anything—except this.
For too long, I’ve held onto the dream that one day I’ll share my first time with someone I love just to have them rip it away from me.
I can’t panic.
At least at my family’s home, I knew that I had some semblance of protection. Mother and Father could discipline me, but it would only ever go so far. No pack wants an omega with a black eye.
But here?
Based on their reaction this morning alone, I have no idea what will set them off.
And that…that’s the most dangerous thing about them.
“Oh, hello!” A warm voice has me startling, dropping my sponge into the sink.
Heart racing, I turn to the source of the noise, coming face to face with a middle-aged beta woman, her hair in a bun at the top of her head.
“H…hi,” I swallow nervously, my heart beginning to race. Who is this person? Will I be held responsible for someone breaking into the house while the pack was gone?
“I’m Beatrice, the personal chef.” She smiles, shifting the paper bag of groceries in her arm, “Are you…?”
“Wren,” I squeak out, wringing my hands. My heart races. This is a new person, and I don’t do well with new people. “I’m…” being held captive? A product of what happens when late-presenting omegas try to avoid really courting a pack? Scared shitless? “New.”
She eyes the sponge in my hands. “Ah. They finally hired a house cleaner.” Then her discerning gaze catches on the clothes I’m wearing, a scratchy summer dress that I should definitely not be cleaning in.
But, of course, it was one of the few outfits they left for me in my suitcase.
“I…I’m the new omega.” My eyes dart to the camera in the corner of the room, wondering if they’re watching right now.
Her brows furrow, her eyes darting around the room in confusion. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to be cleaning then—”
I shake my head furiously. “I…yes I do. I’m sorry, I’ll get out of the way.”
“If you’re sure…” she trails off as I turn on my heel, ready to exit the room. The sight of the dishes from this morning’s failed breakfast on the drying rack glare at me, and an idea hits me.
Having a repeat of this morning tomorrow is not an option. And I need to test the waters. Is Beatrice someone I can trust?
I turn back around, trying to not wring my hands. “Actually, could you please give me a recipe for something the Pack would like to eat for breakfast? I made a scramble this morning, but I’m afraid it wasn’t very good.”
“Ah yes,” she gives me an understanding smile, pulling a pen and paper out of a nearby drawer. “They can be a little picky. Here’s a recipe for an omelette I know they like.”
“Thank you, Beatrice.” I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding as I take the paper from her. “And…” here’s the test, “you won’t tell them I asked, right? I just…I want to impress them.”
She smiles again. “Of course dear. Why don’t you go get some rest before dinner? You look a little peaked.”
Nodding, I follow her directions, keeping my cool until I get to the stairs, and then running up them as fast as I can. Anxiety swirls in my gut as I race to the bathroom, retching into the toilet. Nothing comes up, but the waves of nausea don’t leave me. My breathing comes in sharp, short gasps.
Panic attack.
What if they find me in here like this?
What if they punish me for it?
The thought only sends me spiraling further, my vision swimming as I try to come out of it.
What if Beatrice tells them after I asked her not to?
What if Teddy doesn’t come?
What if I’m stuck here for the rest of my life?
My heart races so fast I’m lightheaded, my vision goes funny and then, blissful darkness takes over.