Page 13 of Trust No Alpha
When I pulled up my messages, I saw I had two from my litter mates. One each from Mathias and Trigg.
My eyes heated as I opened them.
Trigg:Kris, what happened this afternoon? Are you okay? You ran away so fast, and Father has forbidden us to go to your room. He told us he’d have a meeting tonight with all of us there, even Mica and Bren.
What’s going on? Are you sick? I’m going crazy not knowing!
Mathias:Trigg told me you ran away from Father’s study like the very wolves of legend were chasing you.
Dude, did Dr. Pokeme ram too hard? What the fuck?
Father’s having a meeting with all of us later tonight. Will you be there?
Trigg had always been the more considerate one. Mathias. Well, he was crude even as a little boy. Trigg showed his worry for me. Mathias deflected. But I loved them both. My birth triplets. My litter mates.
I stared at their messages, not knowing what to say.
Finally, I chose Trigg’s message to answer first. When I set my cursor on the answer window and began to type, nothing happened.
My hands were shaking so I tried again. When I typed, a picture of a padlock with a red line through it showed up. When I ran my cursor over it, a message read:
Reply function on lockdown for messages on this system.
Father.
Tears welled again.
I tried the Internet and got on, but I could only see and read. I could not interact.
He’d locked my computer down tight. Only incoming was allowed. No outgoing. I was not only cut off from my own household, I was cut off from the world except for what I could read, watch, and see. How generously Alpha of him that I could still download movies or games.
Only the best for me, right?
I slammed my fist into the computer monitor over and over. It cracked. I picked it up and threw it against the wall, knocking over my tray of food in the process.
Blood dripped on my Alpaca rug. My only wish? That there was more of it. For I wanted to paint the room red.
Chapter Seven
Thorne
Thorne awoke to the sound of something dripping.
For a moment, he was confused. Where was he? Then it all rushed back when his chains rattled and he realized he had on only a soiled t-shirt. No bottoms. And he was cold.
Chilled skin meant the Burn had ended, for which he was grateful, but now, as he looked around the dimly lit basement, he saw that a hose on the washer had a slow leak. A clear puddle was growing on the floor six feet away, the surface reflecting the dark, wood-beamed ceiling and the clean, white walls.
Thorne rustled around beside the mattress and found his box of lube and toys. Also within, was the key to his manacles.
The manacles were a safety measure only. He did not know what he might be capable of during his black outs. He suspected he did nothing but perhaps rut against whatever was within reach of his mattress. But he did not trust himself not to sleepwalk and go hunting Omegas.
The TV muttered softly to itself.
As he unlocked himself from his chains, he noticed his wrists were chafed, but not badly. He checked his phone as well, noting he’d been down here only two days.
As Burns went for him, this had been a relatively minor one. Every time he had a short Burn and his cock didn’t feel bruised and beaten, a spark of hope ignited within him. Maybe he was getting more mellow with age. Maybe he wasn’t such a dangerous Alpha after all.
But those thoughts didn’t last, as he always reminded himself his cycles in the wintertime were smoother, shorter. A tease to make him think he had any control over himself whatsoever. It didn’t ever change the fact that his Burns came on every other month, and that in the spring and summer they could last up to a week.
