Chapter 5
Wren
My head is down, my eyes staring at the plate in front of me as I sit at the dinner table. Pack Caruso fills the remaining seats, deep in talks about some kind of business deal.
They’re just like Father, thinking that I’m too stupid to catch on to the things they speak about right in front of me.
Unfortunately for me, I really am too out of it to pay attention.
My head is throbbing, my body a little shaky after I woke up from passing out on the bathroom floor. I had just enough time to make sure I didn’t look like complete shit before joining the pack for dinner.
It’s not like I care if I look like complete shit, but it’s one of their rules to keep myself presentable, and I don’t want to incur a penalty. I mean…what if they remove the mattress from my room and make me sleep on the floor?
“We need to talk to you, Wren.” Kellan’s voice is serious.
Shit. Beatrice failed my little test. I’m about to get punished for asking her to keep a secret from them.
“Yes?” I choke out, my heart racing. My stomach turns, and even though I’m starving, I can’t bring myself to eat the food.
“It’s about your performance today.” The relief I feel at it not being about Beatrice is brief. My ‘performance’.
“Okay.”
“After the mess of breakfast this morning, we were expecting the worst from you today. But we’re very impressed with the state of the house. So, as a reward, you’ll get to pick one item for your nest tonight.”
My heart drops. “One?” But I worked so hard. I did all the laundry. I cleaned every bathroom. I scrubbed the sink. “But—”
“Don’t be greedy,” Jasper taunts. “In fact, you’re lucky we’re letting you have anything at all, considering you botched this morning on purpose.”
Tears sting my eyes as I look around the table, my heart pounding. Botched? On purpose?
“Don’t try to deny it, Pigeon.” Kellan shakes his head. “It’s the only explanation for why you did so well today when this morning was so bad. You did it on purpose. I could have said you have to sleep on the floor, but I want to reward good behavior.”
So I was right. They aren’t above taking away my bed.
It’s not fair.
It’s not fucking fair.
My throat bobs, and I look down to hide the shame on my face. “I understand.”
“You understand…?” Jasper hedges, a lilt of malice in his tone.
“Alpha,” I rasp. “I understand, Alpha.”
The words are ash on my tongue, but a sense of relief fills me at Kellan’s words. “Looks like you bought yourself one more night alone. We don’t want to sleep in such…” his lip curls up, “pitiful conditions.”
“Don’t worry.” Jasper smirks. “It won’t keep us from fucking you.”
If I had been eating, I would have choked.
My eyes go wide as saucers, and my cheeks flame at the chuckles of Kellan, Victor, and Jasper.
“Look at you, so red,” Jasper laughs. “Omegas always play so coy. Tell me, do you have experience taking three cocks at once yet—”
“I’m a virgin,” I squeak out, my face flaming further.
My words affect the mood in the room like a record scratch, and the laughter halts.
“You’re a fucking what?” Kellan growls, and Victor shakes his head.
“I don’t fuck with virgins, man.” He stands, taking his plate from the table. “Take her back. We paid for an omega slut who knows how to handle cocks. Not…this.”
He eyes me with distaste before disappearing into the kitchen.
Could…could I be getting out of here?
Kellan’s rage is evident on his features as he leans forward. “You lied to us.”
My mouth drops open. “No!” I shake my head fervently. “You never even asked. In fact, I was sure you wanted me because you knew!”
Jasper eyes me. “I hate to say it, but I don’t think she ever said one way or the other what her experience was.” Is…is Jasper…defending me? But then he shrugs. “It’s a shame though. I really don’t have time to teach a little prude how to suck a dick.”
“I wonder what will happen to you once we take you back to your parents,” Kellan muses, leaning back in his chair.
“Will they sell you to someone else? Or maybe they’ll start renting you out by the hour.
I mean, they’ll have to make up the money we’re taking back from them somehow.
After those nesting stores open, you’ll be a hot commodity, open to the highest bidder. ”
My stomach turns at his words, my head shaking. “No. No, that’s not—”
“I don’t know, Pigeon.” Kellan shrugs. “I mean, if they were willing to sell you to us, there’s no telling what will happen if we give you back.”
My blood turns to ice. He’s right.
My parents…they don’t love me. Maybe they never have.
They’ll do whatever they have to in order to make their money back.
“Please…” My voice comes out a choked whisper, and I can’t believe what I’m about to say. “Please don’t send me back.”
“What will you do to make up for it?” Kellan eyes me appraisingly. “How will you atone for the fact that we paid for someone with experience, and got…you instead?”
“I…” my heart pounds wildly, my pulse roaring in my ears, “I…”
The words won’t form. I don’t even know what I would say.
“That’s alright,” Jasper’s smile is all teeth as he stands, grabbing his plate, “we’ll think of something.”
My vision swims as I lean over the kitchen counter, cleaning the grout with a small brush. Breakfast went a little better this morning, as Kellan declared it, “not complete shit”, before leaving for work.
I haven’t eaten in two days.
Not on purpose. There’s a whole fridge of food, but every time I try, my stomach revolts.
“Wren?” The warm voice has me blinking as I look up, and there’s Beatrice, standing in the kitchen again. I frown, looking at the clock on the stove. It’s four. How did I spend the whole day cleaning?
“Beatrice.” I give her a weak smile as I stand on shaky feet. “How are you?”
Concern evident in her features, she looks me up and down. “Sweetie, are you feeling okay?”
I nod, then wince at the dizzy feeling that takes over. “I’m fine, I actually…I wanted to see if you could give me another recipe. The guys really liked the food this morning, so…”
She tilts her head appraisingly. “Sure. Were you thinking sweet? Savory?”
“Um.” I give a nervous laugh. “So I saw it in a magazine earlier, and I’m not sure how to pronounce it.
I think it might have been French?” I reach for the pen and paper pad she used yesterday to give me the recipe for breakfast, and start writing with shaky hands.
“I’m pretty sure it’s spelled like this. ”
My heart races as I tear off the note and hand it to her. Her eyes scan my writing, and for a moment, my heart stops. What if I played this wrong? What if her not ratting me out about the recipe is nowhere near the same level as what I’m asking for now?
But then, she lifts her head, pure dismay etched into her features. It instantly dissipates, though, leaving only determination in its wake. “I believe I can help with this.” She nods, and for the first time in two days, my chest feels lighter.