Do I kill the pretty omega? Or take my sweet time and draw out her suffering? It would be kinder to just get it over with. She must be wondering when her days are up, and that’s no way to live.
I remember feeling that way when Daphne used to lock me up and starve me when my dad was off on one of his business trips.
That was why I fed Dove.
Since when did I start caring about the welfare of an omega? I’ve killed a fair share of them in my time, yet none of them had any impact on me like Dove did.
She’s a true enigma.
I currently watch her through the camera feed in the monitor room, and I haven’t torn my eyes away from the screen. She spent the whole night shivering on top of the bare mattress, and I wonder if we should give her some blankets.
Omegas love blankets. They love to nest, and with her upcoming heat, she will want plenty. I remember Daphne being crazy for blankets, and my dad always got her the best kind too, from cashmere, velvets, silks, you name it.
My father gave her everything, yet she only went and made him kill himself in the end. It always baffled me how someone like Daphne could have such an impact on my father, yet now that I have spent some time with Dove, I finally understand.
She makes me feel as if I can do the impossible. I even feel as if I could move mountains and fuck. That’s not a good sign.
It seems she is warping my mind already, and I need to focus. I will not end up like my father; I will not be driven insane by an omega of all things.
Well, more insane. I’m already unhinged.
I suppose I would just become even crazier, and it’s enough to even make my heart tremble.
I come back to the present, focusing on Dove once again. She sits on the corner of the bed, pressing her back to the wall as she stares at nothing.
She wraps her arms around her legs, and I’ve never seen a smaller creature.
Dove really is a tiny thing. So small and fragile, I just want to wrap her up in blankets and protect her from the world.
What an odd thought to have about an omega I plan to kill. I haven’t slept at all. Instead of going to bed, I decided to stay up through the night and watch her through the camera feed.
It appears Dove is an insomniac, like me. She has barely slept. Her eyes have shuttered closed several times, but then she will open them back up again, jerking her head around.
She’s afraid to sleep.
It’s like someone punches me in the gut next. I grab my chest and grimace, squeezing my eyes tight shut.
I think the emotion I am feeling is guilt.
What the fuck am I going to do?
Roman’s warning lingers in the back of my mind, yet I’m still wondering whether I should kill her. She has a pair of eyes I would rather not see shut forever.
I can’t believe how much light they have, and I find myself wanting to peer into those sapphire orbs again.
Look at the camera…
Look at the camera!
As if reading my mind, she looks in the direction of the camera, and my heart does a double flip. The feed is in black and white, so it hardly does her eyes justice, but there’s no denying the light.
I have to gaze into them again. In real-time. Not through some grainy camera feed.
The blue of her eyes reminds me of the good times I had as a child, back when my sweet mother was still alive.
I need to go back down to the cellar. But my pack brothers will get suspicious if I do.
“What’re you doing?”