Page 14 of Trust No Alpha
That wasn’t rare for Alphas. But his blackouts were. And those blackouts were what made him officially designated asdangerous.
Thorne wound the chains up into a neat little pile by the mattress, used the toilet in the alcove six feet away, then gathered up his trash.
Setting it all by the foot of the stairs, he delayed his usual shower and coffee to fix the hose leak. Over the years, he’d gotten adept at minor repairs. It took him five minutes. He grabbed a mop, cleaned the floor, and was upstairs and in the shower within ten minutes.
Now coffee percolated on the kitchen counter. He’d missed it, and the way the sun glimmered through his kitchen windows where he’d hung various stained glass knick-knacks in the shapes of flowers, cats and stars.
After cooking his usual bacon and eggs, he opened his computer and perused his favorite sites, including news, weather and gardening. He also loved to read, and belonged to a few book groups, but rarely participated. But now he checked those groups as well.
When he finished all that, he put on his favorite music channel and began his morning routine of cleaning the kitchen whether it needed it or not. Then he moved on to the rest of the house. Though he never had any guests, he kept the place nice.
His life was boring, but stable. He preferred it that way.
Snow might be arriving later in the day, so he checked his gardens. The spring and summer gardens were dormant now. But the fall and winter gardens thrived. He kept them well maintained. He picked a few roses for the kitchen table.
As he puttered about outside, he talked to himself. He was his only company, so he never thought it odd.
“I really should get a dog.” “Should I make chili for dinner? Or turkey soup?” “Hmm. I don’t smell snow and the sky is clear. Maybe I should subscribe to a new weather site.”
Thorne sat in the cold by Ian’s grave for about ten minutes, as he did almost every evening.
“Well,” he said aloud, “I made it through another Burn. No partner. No chattel. No harm done.”
The sun set early in these parts now. He glanced to the west, past the top of the Vandergale mansion, to watch the sky paint itself in strokes of brilliant pinks and oranges. A slow purple stain edged the tops of the mountains to the northwest. The mansion’s lights came on. Some windows remained dark, others turned gold.
It seemed far away, yet it was just down the road, his nearest neighbor. He’d gone for walks and been by that giant house hundreds of times. Five boys lived there, yet he almost never heard a peep from them.
One time, as he’d walked down the road, he’d seen two boys on the front yard silently playing catch. One was dark, the other light. They were beautiful Alpha teens, healthy and handsome in every way. Maybe their father sent them away to school. Or maybe they had everything they needed stashed away in that massive home, from a gymnasium to a theater. Who knew?
But Thorne wondered. Shouldn’t little Alpha boys—five in all—make some noise sometimes in their daily lives?
Well, they were different, after all they were Vandergales. Varian Vandergale was known for being reclusive and reticent with the media. Thorne could certainly relate to that.
Of course Varian would keep his boys on a tight leash. He would want to avoid all scandal. And he would want to mold them into perfect Alphas, which was how Varian saw himself.
Thorne had researched Varian, though not in depth. He wanted to be generally informed about his neighbor.
They were good neighbors in that neither bothered the other. But they weren’t good neighbors for the simple fact that they’d never met. Thorne didn’t care about that so much, but he couldn’t help but be curious. When you had famous neighbors, you sort of paid attention.
Thorne like the quiet of his road, and the large properties and empty fields that brought feelings of serenity. The mountains in the distance, white-tipped, were tall and lonely, and the skies wide and deep.
But sometimes—just sometimes, there could be too much quiet.
It was then he almost wished he knew even one of his neighbors just so he might wave as they drove by. Just so he might hear one solid “hello” as he went for his walks near their vast and lonely estates.
Chapter Eight
Kris
The first night I was locked away—for my own protection according to Father—was the easiest. Much to my surprise. For it had been miserable and horrible, of course. But it had been the easiest only because things got worse from there.
Servants brought my meals, and not the usual servants I’d grown up with. These men were strangers, and refused to speak to me.
As promised, Father came to visit once a day. It was the only company I had, and I both looked forward to and dreaded those visits. They were always too short. And Father, at first, was taciturn at best.
Most of my requests—pleas, in fact—went ignored.
“Father,” I said to him. “I’ve been reading about my condition. I am not the same as any Omega. My scent for example. It will never develop as an Omega scent. Therefore, I don’t think it will be dangerous for me to be around Alphas as you say. I don’t need to be locked away all the time. Can I at least have permission to walk around the house and yard? To see my brothers?”
