She regretted the words as soon as they fell from her lips. Her first impulse was to cradle her stomach, to murmur soothing words at the little bundle of cells that had no idea what was going on. That she didn’t mean it, that its father was an asshole that goaded her to those kinds of responses. Somehow, she managed not to give in, instead meeting Kahler’s cool stoicism head on.
“If you even think of hurting my child, I promise that you will regret it, Quinn.”
He was gone in a sudden rush, long before she thought to stumble through some response before it registered.
He’d used her name and a very large part of her never wanted to hear it from him again.
Knowing she’d made things more difficult with that first exchange didn’t help Quinn’s outlook on the situation. Kahler was right that she couldn’t make it long without his presence, a fact that was proven by the end of that first day.
When he had strolled into the room at nine o’clock, Quinn had been inconsolable. Curled up in the nest, she’d been crying into his pillow, hysterical. That had been after she’d slept most of the day away, an exhaustion that went to the marrow of her bones. These things were not explained in any real detail to her dynamic. In school, when she’d bothered to attend, they had given her the basic facts, but the bond was something too intimate, too taboo, to be addressed in the crumbling public school system. It was trusted that an Alpha would guide them through it all.
With only the horror stories whispered in dark corners to give her any guidance, she was terrified of the idea that she’d be like that the entire time.
She’d clung to him all night. If his grunts and hard exhales had been any indication, he hadn’t been at all happy with the arrangement.
The next day was only a little easier since he sat with her while she ate, waiting until she had stumbled back into the nest to sleep before he left. She’d fouled it up by taking it upon herself to amend their sleeping arrangement when she woke. Dragging every excess piece of bedding to the corner, she made a shamble of a nest in the hopes of not aggravating him further. He’d be close by and his scent was strong in everything she’d moved.
It should have worked.
Kahler had gone into a rage. He’d destroyed the new nest, flinging blankets and sheets back towards the bed. Then he’d dragged her kicking and screaming, bending her over the bed. After a violent fuck that had bruises marking her arms and thighs for days, he’d ordered her to fix it. Standing ominous and threatening, arms crossed, and legs splayed, he’d watched on as she set things to rights. As soon as the nest had been rebuilt, he’d taken her again. Slow and torturous, making sure she knew who owned her.
Well into the week and the routine was no easier. She found little comfort in the one thing that could give it to her. When Kahler wasn’t there, and she managed to be awake, she was nervous, distraught. In his presence, she was anxious and jumpy, his every move sending her skittering away like a beaten dog. Even at night as he slept, she woke often to edge back to her side of the bed with cautious urgency, afraid he’d become angry that she’d plastered her body against his.
The only thing she seemed to be good at was fucking.
The stress was working against her in a multitude of ways. The ravenous appetite that she had started out with began to dwindle. Everything made her sick, but she shoveled it in under Kahler’s watchful eyes. As soon as his presence faded from the room, Quinn would find herself on the cold tiles until sheer exhaustion closed her eyes. She’d never thought an en-suite bathroom could be a necessity.
All of this alongside the awkwardness of sharing space with a complete stranger.
It was untenable and Quinn was about to snap.
That was her only excuse for her actions when Kahler next returned. She’d been awake for hours, every faint noise jerking her from a thin sleep at some imagined threat. Having already been sick twice, and on an empty stomach, she was miserable.
When Kahler told her to get up to eat, Quinn shoved the blanket back and rolled to her stomach. Legs spread, presenting to the male, she pushed her face into the pillow.
“What are you doing? You’re somehow managing to lose weight, you need to eat.”
“Just get it over with so I can go back to sleep.” At least she hoped she could sleep. Maybe with him nearby, she could get some real rest.
“What’s wrong with you?” Quinn felt the smallest ease in the tension knotted through her back and shoulders as his voice came close.
“Nothing.” Everything.
“Come and eat.”
“I’ll just throw it up. So just… do it and let me sleep.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having morning sickness?” The bed dipped under his weight as he sat beside her. “I’ll call the doctor. If it’s frequent and bad enough, he might be able to prescribe you something.”
“It’s not morning sickness.” She wanted to press against his leg where it angled alongside her. Just wrap her body around him, breathe in the decadent chocolate and chilies spice of him until all the hurts faded away, and she found some peace.
“Are you sick?” Before Quinn could reply, he was rolling her over, smoothing back rumpled curls to press the back of his hand to her cheek and forehead as if checking for a fever. Scowl etching deep lines in his face when he found no hint of heat, he took Quinn’s chin and turned her face left and right.
“No, I’m not. Will you just fuck me already?”
Leaning back, Kahler seemed to look at her for once. He pushed her hair off her face again, the curls tumbling right back down across her eyes. She was in desperate need of a haircut, the short length she preferred having grown out into that annoying stage of unruliness.
“Have you missed me that much?”
