Jacques turned to a door Brenya had yet to see him open, an office of sorts. Without preamble the door closed, the sound of a lock turning like the click click click of clock cogs grinding together.
Dumbfounded, her fingers fisted in dirty sheets, Brenya stared at the door waiting for it to be thrown open. He would come back and force her down. He would spread her legs and dive his tongue into her body while saying things like, ‘You are better than any breakfast. I could feast all day’.
And then he would, while she grew too distracted by sex to remember her body’s requirements.
It was a test. It had to be. If she stepped a toe out of the nest, he’d rush in and make her stay.
But an almost instant delicious smell assaulted her nose. In the direction of the parlor was what he’d said would wait. Food.
A cramp set her stomach growling as she sat on the mattress and warred with herself on what to do.
“Brenya?” her name was called. Not by a male, not with a warning edge to it. It was called from across the apartments in the soft lilt of a polished female.
She still could not make herself move, and Annette found her that way—sitting naked and wide-eyed in bed, hair a nest of tangles, unwashed and reeking of Alpha attention.
Exposed breasts bruised, nipples chapped and ruddy, Brenya didn’t think to cover herself… all she could think of was how thirsty she was, how much she wanted to eat whatever was waiting.
“My god…” The Beta female’s composure quickly returned, Annette smiling like an angel as she offered a hand and said, “Come here, Brenya. It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you.”
Watching the perfectly coiffed woman in her clean dress, breathing hard yet feeling almost dead inside, a matching pair of silent tears fell from Brenya’s eyes. “I am so hungry.”
“Well, you’re in luck.” Annette seemed breathless, her arm reaching out earnestly toward the Omega. “There is food enough for an army waiting for you. Come now, let’s eat breakfast.”
Wet honey eyes darted to the door Jacques was behind, Brenya unmoving.
“He’s not coming back, Brenya.”
Next, Brenya’s gaze cut to the sunny balcony where the overturned table and broken china still littered the ground. The food wasted all those mornings ago rotted, untouched. Annette followed her line of sight and promised, “I’ll have that cleaned up. It will be as if it never happened.”
There was a flood of thoughts all racing to the forefront of Brenya’s mind, crashing into each other until one won out. “Did you know that Betas are never reassigned? Centrists kill them. I’ll never go back to Beta Sector. I’ll never make the descent again. For the rest of my life I will be trapped inside the Dome.”
A small hand came to take the sheet and wrapped it around the shaking woman, Annette’s voice low as if they might be overheard. “I know exactly how you feel.”Chapter 8“You must learn to distract him and guide his urges. It is never wise to allow Alpha males free rein of their thoughts.” A warm pass of dripping cloth crested Brenya’s shoulder, Annette taking great pains to clean the woman sitting silent in a tub of steaming water. “For example, before Jacques grows too focused on a physical objective, ask him questions off topic. His lot are generally so vain that any conversation about themselves is never resisted.”
Nudity in front of another female was completely natural to Brenya. Her Corps had bathed together, used the facilities together, ate, lived, slept together, her entire life. Males and their groupings were the same. It was easy to submit to Annette’s good intentions. It was easy to be grateful that the Beta had fed her, had let her swallow glass upon glass of water, had ordered a bath, and washed her bruised skin with care. “You do this to Ancil?”
Annette snickered, dunking her hand into the water to saturate the washcloth. “Of course I do! Asking Ancil about his day buys me at least an hour before he remembers to mate me. If I compliment him while he speaks, two hours. Some days he just gets hungry and forgets sex all together until bedtime. By then, I’m less concerned about him spoiling my hair or dress.”
Sleepy from a full belly and the weightlessness of her body in so much water, Brenya yawned. “When you ask him to stop, does he stop?”
Annette paused, and an awkward silence grew between them. “They never stop, dear. But, they can be redirected. Alphas have all the power, Brenya. Even in my marriage contract I am bound to perform… not that I have ever complained. But, I have heard of other wives less content in their match.”
She turned, water sloshing the side of the tub when Brenya asked, “What do these wives do?”