I’m a murderer.
Does that make me a monster too? I considered Sebastian a monster at first, but it appears that I was wrong about him. I just hope that I’m wrong about the other two alphas as well.
While Isaac seems friendly enough, the other one is completely cold and merciless. He despises me; he was prepared to shoot me while Isaac and Sebastian hesitated.
I am not safe around that one, and I know he won’t hesitate to kill me if I step a toe out of line. So that is why I hide under the bed. Instead of pouring myself a hot, boiling bath, I wrap myself up like a burrito in my new blankets, and before long, night has fallen.
The house is quiet, and I would do anything to crawl out from beneath this bed, but I’m afraid.
What if the alpha who smells of whiskey is waiting outside for me?
Footsteps echo down the hall, and I curl up, whimpering softly.
This is it. My days are over.
I never even got a chance to try out the bed above me, arranging my pillows and blankets just how I like them.
There comes a knock on the door, and I hope they will just kill me here in this nice room instead of taking me out to the woods.
“Hey… you in there? Dove?”
My heart jumps to my throat when I recognize the voice. Then the smell of sun-baked grass reaches my nose.
It’s Isaac.
I do get a good feeling about him. He did comfort me when he carried me to the cellar, but I can’t get too complacent. I still don’t even know him. His kind gestures may have all been in my head.
He knocks again, and I squeeze my eyes, hoping he will just go away and leave me alone.
“I… just thought you’d like to know that dinner is ready…”
Dinner? They are inviting me for dinner at their table? It makes no sense. Even lucky omegas who end up with distinguished packs don’t get to sit at the table. They stand behind their alphas and serve them drinks.
They’re pretty much glorified maids.
“Dove?”
Heavy breaths escape me, and then my stomach growls when I envision the meal that’s awaiting me downstairs. It all just seems too good to be true.
They will most likely feed me my dinner in a dog bowl beside the table.
Will the bowl at least have my name on it?
“Shit!”
I hear a fumbling next, and it sounds as if the alpha is trying to break in. I locked it earlier, but I know that feeble mechanism will be no match for an alpha’s strength. I’ve seen one snap an omega’s neck before.
Finally, he breaks the lock, then barges into the room. All I can see now are his thick black boots as he comes around the bed, and I cover my mouth lest the sounds of my breaths give me away.
He crouches down on the carpet, and his green eyes find me. My heart thrums in my chest, and I hold my breath for a very different reason now.
His sun-baked grassy scent smells even better up close. It’s intoxicating, and I resist the urge to climb out from beneath the bed and press my nose to him.
A horrified expression forms over his friendly face. “What are you doing under the bed, kitten?”
I don’t answer. I just stare into his vivid eyes, wondering what shade would be best to describe them.
Jade? Lime?