Chapter 14
Zenevieve
Idon’t care that people in the street can see me crying, sitting in the dirt in the lavish district. No one stops to ask if I’m all right as I wrap my arms around my knees and sob.
I said go home.
The way Stesha roared at me with a ferocious expression was frighteningly final. I offered myself up to him completely, unambiguously, and he made it clear he doesn’t want me and never will. The pain of his rejection hurts so much.
“Did you hear that white-haired Alpha is rutting in the exhibition room?”
“How many lavishes do you think he’ll go through this time?”
I look up at the sound of two women talking outside the ruthouse.
“Twenty. Maybe more,” the first woman says.
“I heard that last time he rutted thirty of them.”
“Thirty? I have to see this.”
The women enter the ruthouse and close the door behind them.
I get slowly to my feet. A white-haired Alpha. They have to be talking about Stesha, but he promised over and over he doesn’t sleep with lavishes during his rut. And what is an exhibition room?
The man I adore isn’t a liar.
Is he?
I wipe the last of the tears from my face.
The women went into that ruthouse, and no one stopped them.
Stesha wants me to go home, but Stesha might be lying to me.
I should know if he’s lying to me and sleeping with not one but thirty lavishes.
I want the truth, even though I think I might throw up.
I get to my feet and enter the ruthouse.
Inside, no one pays much attention to me.
I receive bored glances from half a dozen men and women lounging on sofas in various states of undress.
All of them look like Betas, so as a fellow Beta, I hold no interest to them.
They’re here for the Alphas, and there aren’t that many Alphas to go around.
Betas probably line up and compete to be chosen to spend a rut with an Alpha.
A man standing at the side of the room looks as if he works here, and so I approach him nervously, twisting my fingers together. “Where’s, um, the exhibition room, please?”
He nods at the door he’s standing next to. “You found it. Nine silvers.”
“What happens in there?” I ask in a tremulous voice.
The man gives me a strange look. “What do you think happens in there? This is a ruthouse.”
I dig around in my pocket and count out the coins, and my back breaks out in a cold sweat. I’m disobeying Stesha. I’m paying to see someone I think might be Stesha having sex with other Betas.
The man opens the door for me. “Stay as long as you want, but keep your hands on this side of the wall. Those are eye holes, not arm holes.”
When I enter the exhibition room, a woman’s throaty cries, a man’s irregular moans, and a rhythmic, wet slapping sound reaches my ears. An Alpha’s rich, lust-filled scent fills my nose, and I almost sob with relief. It’s not Stesha’s.
The door closes behind me, and I’m in a darkened room. There’s a wall in front of me with dozens of holes cut into it, and many people stand or sit at the holes, watching what’s going on inside a lamplit room. Whatever is happening in here has nothing to do with me or Stesha, and I turn to leave.
Just before I do, I catch a glimpse through one of the peepholes of the Alpha doing the rutting.
He has long white hair and a massive set of shoulders.
It’s not Stesha, but it looks like him. I feel a rush of heat low in my belly.
I’ve never seen an Alpha rutting anyone before.
Well, I’ve seen dragons rutting, but that doesn’t count. An Alpha who looks like Stesha…
I bite my lip, trying to decide what to do. I paid nine silvers to see what’s happening in this room. Everyone else is looking. What’s the harm in one little peep?
I draw closer to the wall with the cutouts, and then closer still.
Through one of the holes, I see two completely naked figures.
A white-haired Alpha similar in size and physique to Stesha, though not as handsome, is standing over and rigorously pounding a dark-haired woman who is flat on her back on a padded table.
She’s clearly having the time of her life.
My knees feel weak at the sight of his cock.
It’s shocking and beautiful what he’s doing to the Beta, and he’s so large and vigorous that it should hurt, but it’s apparent that the woman is loving every single thrust. I press my hands against the wall, sink down onto a stool, and take advantage of another of the wall’s cutouts.
The Alpha’s knot is bigger than his fist, and it’s slamming against the woman with every stroke of his cock.
Judging by the intense focus on the Alpha’s face, I seem to have come in toward the end of things.
He’s breathing hard, and there’s sweat dripping down his muscular chest and back.
His groans become deeper. He squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back.
A moment later he growls through gritted teeth, and his thrusts are short, sharp, and urgent inside the woman.
His muscles ripple and tauten, and then he relaxes with a groan and slows down.
He pulls out of the Beta, his cock glistening with her wetness and his seed.
He pats her thigh, murmurs a word to her, and then turns away.
I realize I’m clasping the stool I’m sitting on with both hands, my knees are pressed tightly together, and my heart is pounding in my core.
I can’t believe what I just witnessed. All around me, the other onlookers are stepping back from the holes, fanning their faces, whispering to each other, and smiling.
No one is leaving, so neither do I. But what more can possibly happen?
Is he going to do that again?
The Alpha paces languidly up and down the room, still completely naked, and still hard.
There’s a tilt to the corner of his lips as if he’s enjoying himself greatly.
He must know there are about two dozen people watching him, and apparently that’s very pleasing to him.
There’s a barrel full of water in the corner where he cleans the sweat and cum from his body.
Meanwhile, the woman sits up with a smile, fluffs her dark hair, and walks out of the room via a door at the back.
The Alpha drinks a ladleful of water while we all appreciate a view of his muscular ass.
“Will he rest now?” a woman whispers.
The man next to her shakes his head. “She was only the third. He’ll go again right away.”
“Oh, good,” the woman replies, turning her attention back to the Alpha.
The Alpha paces up and down again, unhurried, stretching his upper back muscles.
I can hear him breathing. As he walks, his thickened cock slaps against his thighs.
It’s all too easy to imagine that he’s Stesha, and I squirm in my seat.
His scent is so different from Stesha’s, more spicy than smoky, but not unpleasant.
He moves closer to where I’m sitting until his knot is all that I can see. Every vein. The mouthwatering thickness of his cock. By the gods, he’s huge.
Everyone’s looking in, and I’ve forgotten that the Alpha can also see out.
“Why, hello,” a deep, amused voice says over my head.
I lift my eyes to the Alpha’s light brown ones, and I realize he’s smiling down at me through one of the cutouts. He’s a good-looking Alpha, and his body is divine, though he’s not as glacially handsome as Stesha.
“Hello,” I say hesitantly.
“You smell good, little one. Why are you sitting on that side of the wall when you could be in here with me?” His eyes are sharp and hungry, but his smile is kind.
“I’m…I’m just watching. I shouldn’t even be here.” I laugh nervously.
He laughs softly as well, a deep, rich sound. The people on either side of me nudge each other and whisper behind their hands.
“Are you a dragonrider?” he asks.
“How did you know?”
“I can smell it in your scent. See it in your bright dragon eyes. I love dragonriders. They’re the most beautiful Maledinni in the city, and you’re…” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “So aroused.”
I feel my face turn crimson. I didn’t realize anyone would be able to tell how much being in Stesha’s arms and then watching this Alpha have sex with a dark-haired woman turned me on.
“Oh, how adorable. You’re shy. I haven’t met a shy Beta in so long. My name is Oren.”
“I’m…I’m Zenevieve.”
He crouches down so our faces are on the same level, and my stomach swoops at the intimacy in his gaze.
“I don’t think you’d like to come in here, Zenevieve, but there are plenty of private rooms in this ruthouse. You don’t have to be on display for the others to see. You can just be for me.”
There are a few exclamations of protest from the people around us, and someone calls out that they paid good money to watch Oren.
Oren’s expression darkens, and he raises his voice in warning. “Do you think it is your right to watch me? Your coin is nothing. I do this because it amuses me, but one more word from any of you and you shall never see me in here again.”
That shuts everyone up. No one seems to want to lose the privilege of watching Oren in his rut.
I swallow hard. When he’s stern, I can almost believe he’s Stesha. They have the same complexion and long, wintry hair. His body is as big as Stesha’s. Almost as alluring as Stesha’s.
Oren turns back to me, and his voice and smile are soft. “I would adore taking you in my arms, shy, beautiful Zenevieve. Am I tempting you, little one?”
I feel hot all over. Gods, I can’t possibly do this. My heart belongs to Stesha. “I’m spoken for,” I say hesitantly.
Oren continues speaking in his soft, deep voice. “You don’t sound sure about that. Are you mated?”
“I…”
Sometimes I think Stesha wants me, and he’s close to admitting it to himself, like just before when he pushed me up against the wall and leaned his whole body blissfully into mine.
But most of the time, he treats me like his little sister or his daughter, and I should probably stop hoping I’ll ever be anything else to him.
“I suppose I’m not.” To my dismay, tears suddenly gather on my lashes, and my last words are choked up with emotion.
Oren’s brow creases with concern. “Oh, little one, I can’t bear to see you cry. Would you like some company so you can tell me all about it? Nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my rut with you in my arms.”
The second most beautiful man I’ve ever seen is offering me everything I’ve ever wanted from Stesha, for a few hours at least.
“Well, I…” I start to say through my tears.
Pull yourself together, Zenevieve.
I wipe the wetness from my cheeks, take a calming breath, and meet Oren’s gaze.
He smiles at me. “Listen. I’ll go through that door behind me, and if you want me to kiss away all your sadness, tell the man outside to bring you to me. I’ve got a very big, soft, private bed, and I know I don’t look like it, but I can be very gentle.”
I nibble on my lower lip, gazing into his warm eyes.
I believe him. For all his size and muscle, he’s got a kind, relaxed, unhurried manner about him, and gods, his body is beautiful.
Having him kiss away all my tears, and kiss me in other places as well, sounds like a little piece of heaven after a heart-wrenching day.
“How does that sound?” he asks me.
I open my mouth to answer.
A cold, sharp voice behind me cuts through the words I was about to say.
“Zen, what the fuck are you doing here?”