Food had been brought. Thick sandwiches, neat sticks of carrots, and a bottle of water sat waiting on the slim piece of wood. She understood that the vague sensation of clenching emptiness in her stomach was a warning it had been too long. She was already growing weak, sliding into that precarious gray area where starvation and survival mingled. There was no room for emotion of any kind in the sticky black haze that filled her to the brim. Quinn continued her endless stare, unseeing, uncaring.
“You need to eat.” Stating the obvious, Curtis shifted in well-polished loafers. Bending down, he unscrewed the cap with a crackling twist and set it back with care.
When Quinn only continued to look through him, the Beta expelled a harsh sigh and crouched.
“If you do not eat, I’ll have to fetch him.”
Was it a threat or a warning? Slow blinks had the man’s agitated movements playing out like a jittering movie in her view.
“He’s tying up your personal affairs now. He’ll be irritated if he has to drop everything to come to you.”
How long did it take to end a life? What about one as paltry as hers? An apartment, a job, and–poof!– she had never been. Marina was her only living family that she knew of. There would be no argument from that quarter. There were no males to appease for his actions. Not that she thought Kahler would bend to even that social nicety. He had already paid the fines for taking an Omega in heat before acquiring her agreement. The sum for her life hadn’t even amounted to her rent.
In the end, the monster would come for her no matter what. Did it matter when it happened?
Abandoning the tray, Curtis stood. Standing over her, the swift, small movements he made were an impression of annoyance. He sighed and left the room though he left the overhead light burning.
Seconds, years, entire eras passed before the door opened again. It was flung open hard enough to slam into the wall though even it did not dare to swing back into the Alpha’s path as he stormed in. All rage and fury, his footsteps seemed to jar her where she lay upon the floor. The bared skin of her back prickled as if electricity was crackling through the air.
“Eat.”
The command was like a slap to the face, her whole body jerking from the force. Her arm was out, hand smashing the sandwich into a sticky mess. Fingers clenched through bread and meat as it was brought to her lips. Saliva pooled thin and caustic in her mouth as she opened to take a bite. Stomach twisting, it was already rebelling at the thought of the food coming for it.
She was going to be sick.
The clumpy mass muffled the first choking gag as she continued to shove it at her face. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Throat tightening on a sob, she tried to swallow.
She had to do it. He’d ordered her to.
A bark of dismay came from the doorway as she retched onto the floor in a watery heave. Some small part of her was glad she’d somehow managed to miss the mattress itself. Quinn doubted she would find herself with clean bedding should she ruin it.
Still, the command remained, so she gagged and tried to stuff the remaining sandwich that clung to her fingers into her mouth.
“Enough,” Kahler said on a growl, slapping the ruined thing from her hand.
Tucking her knees to her chest, Quinn turned her face into the bed and waited for the beating that was sure to come. As if it were her fault that he had done this to her, made her his thing, so dependent upon him that her survival was in his hands.
The length of him was at her back so fast she couldn’t figure out what it was at first. Heat engulfed her in a crushing embrace followed by the heaviness of his hand as it landed on her shin. Tucked close against him, Quinn felt the first meager flicker of sensation.
“I’ll get something else, sir,” Curtis muttered as he cleaned away her sick and snatched up the tray. He was gone, leaving her alone with the monster whose hand followed the curve of her leg down to her thigh.
“I thought you were just being difficult, that you were pouting,” Kahler said, whisper quiet, against her shoulder as his hand moved to work over the knotted muscles of her lower back. “That seems not to be the case.”
Each firm drag of skilled fingers left her a little more alive. Moved inch by inch back into awareness, into feeling, tears tumbled down her cheeks. Every moment he lavished her with his touch and attention, she hated him all the more for making her feel. She hated that it was him that made her thoughts tumble from the sludgy fog, flesh warming as she responded. All the hurts and betrayals welled, suffocating, burning her inside out. She was alone, she’d been betrayed, and a monster had made her his.
Deft and sure, he soothed away every sniffle and quiet sob.
Firm massage turned to seeking touches and almost gentle caresses. He explored her body, bringing it alive with every glancing blow of warmth and attention. Heart stumbling into a stuttering rhythm she didn’t want, helpless to stop it, her blood ran molten. Tears had already begun to dry as he worked his way to her shoulders and played with the soft, fine hairs at her nape.
Quinn was sun warmed taffy by the time he rolled her to her back. Head lolling, a stupid half smile on still raw lips, she peered up at him with soft eyes. Drunk on the rich spice of him, she gave a broken hum. The shattered pieces of her soul knit together with his quiet sounds of pleasure as the thread. Bruised fingers reached up to trace along the contours of him, relearning his curves and angles. She didn’t know why her hands were so red and raw, why her nails were so ragged, and couldn’t concentrate on them long enough to care.
The male above her had her full attention.
Misty gray gaze inspected the man who had claimed her as his mate, taking in the heat of his dark green eyes like a flower in the sun. She caressed the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw, fingers testing the rasping stubble there. He wasn’t pretty, but so exquisitely formed that even the bump on the bridge of his nose seemed only to add to the rugged beauty of him.
The hum shivered its way into a lilting purr as her gaze followed the path of her hands down to the broadness of a well-muscled chest. Exploring every hill and valley, she dared to reach up to taste silken skin. The heady musk of him coated her tongue, slipping down her throat like warm syrup to settle low in her belly.
Whining low in her throat, she reached out as he pulled away.
