Page 40 of His Forsaken Alpha

Wynter frowned. “What?”

Warden rolled his eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing,”Warden spat.

“Do you really believe omegas can control a heat?”

“Leave it be!”Warden roared.

Wynter stared wide-eyed at the man. Surely Warden wasn’t one of those alphas who believed the myth that omegas controlled their heats. It was medically proven that they couldn’t, time and time again—no more than an alpha could control his rut. If Wynter had been able to control such a thing, there was no way he’d have trapped himself in hell with Warden.

“That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to discuss.”

“Oh?”Wynter murmured.

“I think we should have separate bedrooms.”

“They already are.”

Warden ignored him. “I plan to move to the East Wing of the house as soon as possible. Perhaps you could do your duty as my omega and facilitate that move for me? I believe you owe me one.”

Wynter glared. He sensed the battle was a waste of his time. If he wanted distance, Wynter would give it to him. Maybe that was the only way through. A life lived separately, together. “Of course…my alpha.”

“Good.” Warden sighed. “As far as the spa, I’m not ready, Wynter.Iwould leave the province but with work and my responsibilities, it’s harder for me to take the time off. You, on the other hand, are free to go wherever you wish.”

If only.“What of Jamie? I need to work on rebuilding his trust. I can’t leave him again.”

“As if you were there for himbeforeyour incident? The manny is more a papa to him than you. He’ll care for the child while you’re away,” Warden said, his voice low and filled with disgust. “As he always does.”

Wynter cringed. He’d learned some techniques at the facility and was trying to implement them, but he and Jamie were near strangers as it was. The boy didn’t trust him and understandably so. Wynter would need to work to build that trust, but if he abandoned the boy again? “How about this? I’ll go to the spa if you agree to meet with me and my new therapist sometime after I return, so we can work toward finding a path together. Is that fair?”

Warden turned to face him. “You’re home. They said you were better. Why do you need more therapy?”

“Iambetter, but I’m still a work in progress. The facility set me up with a therapist here in the province to continue my care.”

“No.”

“What do you mean,no?”

“And give the gossips more fodder?”

“Morefodder? I don’t take part in society, so how in the world is there gossip?”

“You’ve been holed up in this house for five years, rarely leaving. As it is, some people think you don’t even exist. It’s time you took your place in society and followed in your papa’s footsteps. His rise in society has given your father connections and power he’d never have had otherwise. If I have to suffer with you in this house, you will pay for that suffering one way or another.”

“I was told to keep a low profile when I arrived. To help prevent the scandal from following us from Blacksburg. You didn’t want people to see m?—”

“More than enough time passed, but yet you remained abed, ignoring your duties to me and this family.”

“I wassick!”

Warden continued, unphased. “Yes, you were sick. A doctor and nurse were rushed here by papa to prevent taking you to a hospital—though they tried to force us to take you anyway. We offered them enough money to keep their mouths shut—another thing you owe me for.”

“I didn’t realize I had a list of credits and debits attached to my name.”

“Debits. There have yet to be credits,” Warden replied. “Once they had you stabilized, we got you on a helicopter and off to Eriberg to the facility—both of which were not cheap. And the mess you made! I sent all but Barrymore away for the night. He helped me, but it was still too much for the two of us. I myself had to carry your ruined things to the incinerator and burn them just to hide what you’d done from the staff. Bedding, mattress, furniture, clothing… all of it,burned.We tore the very carpet from the floor and burned that, too. Ripped the paper from the walls. After, I hired a contractor to repair it and return your bedroom to what it had been, but even they had to notice the blood stains I couldn’t scrub from the floor. The staff had questions I refused to answer. I’m sure they guessed some of it and assumed much more. While you were gone, I heard a story circulating that I’d killed you. Another that you’d died in childbirth. I squashed them all, telling folks you’d simply returned home to help your papa, who was unwell. I don’t knowhow many of them believed me. I’m sure some of our staff was surprised to see you walk back through the front door, alive.”

---