Page 18 of Choosing Her Alpha
The door opened. A woman dressed in white stood there. She was tall and slim, in the well fitted, fine cloth of a knee length jacket, silky tunic, and leggings with boots. Her shoulder length, silver-blonde hair was styled like she did much more than run a comb through it, and her makeup was painted with care. The woman could have been a store display, she was so nicely put together.
She looked wealthy and refined, but her eyes dropped to the floor in subservience to the alpha in the room. "Sir?"
"Get Sasha here a private bed and whatever she needs to be comfortable, please, Terasa." He touched the back of Sasha's neck, a barely there stroke above the chain. "You, girl—go with Terasa. No trouble from you. No more sneaking into drone laundry rooms and past beta guards."
"But—"
He made that sound again, the one that reprimanded her questioning him and made her whole body tense.
Terasa was all brisk business. "Come with me now, girl. We will find you a quiet place. Do you like to read? Photo shows? You need a bath as well. Hmm, maybe a spa treatment. Are you hungry?" She gently took Sasha's arm to lead her away, pulling her from her seat. "Your name is Sasha?"
"Yes, ma'am." Terasa had a natural authority and confidence that made Sasha want to please her. Wondering at the cause, Sasha lifted her nose and tried to scent the other woman.
Almost a foot taller than Sasha, her body was slim and feminine in every way. She gave off an aura of strength similar to Constantine, though much less severe. Despite her desirability, this was not some soft bed partner to be easily cowed.
In the hall, with the intimidating warlord now shut up away behind the closed door, Terasa stopped to finger the coin hanging from the chain around Sasha's neck.
"Hmm. He's claimed you, huh? What is your orientation? You smell like drone but look like a breeder child. Where's your registration?"
With no regard for personal space, she reached for Sasha's left hand. When she saw no mark, just the raw, dried state of hands constantly used to do daily work, she made a tsking sound.
"Look at these hands and nails. Like a farm drone's. Well, he didn't say he wanted you tonight, so there is plenty of time for all of that."
"Wanted me tonight?" Sasha repeated cluelessly.
"Follow me, Sasha girl. The others always love to give makeovers. Makes them feel useful."
Chapter 7
Sasha felt lost. Somewhere she had missed a part of the conversation. Had Constantine agreed to be her husband-mate, or were they going to form a consensual contract business agreement?
Was he going to help her?
He was the most controlling, domineering male Sasha had ever encountered. He made the hair on her arms stand up, tied her nerves in knots, and obliterated everything she thought she knew about herself.
Just yesterday she had been a smart, resourceful survivor, planning an escape from not just a past of torment, but from a future filled with the promise of it. Today she was a weak crybaby who did as she was told because she couldn’t bear to defy the male doing the telling.
She'd never had trouble defying Merrick. Sure, she avoided it when possible, but her whole body and brain didn't freeze at the idea of making him unhappy. Rather, it felt like victory.
Sasha knew in her core that there would be no victory in making Kane unhappy. None at all.
She touched the chain at her neck. It fit at the base of her throat. Until she had a mirror, she couldn't see what was on the coin thing.
Terasa said he’dclaimedher.What did that mean? He couldn't claim her; alphas did not claim a breeder. The breeder chose the alpha.
How much of a mistake had she made in coming here?
That man, he was somethingmore, a complete unknown. Unpredictable. He shattered her ideas about normal alpha behavior.
Kane’swarlordlabel might have more significance than just a vanity title bestowed by his underlings. He was a bigger male than her father or Merrick, stronger both physically and in force of will. His voice alone could compel weaker souls to do his bidding.
Intimidation rolled off him in the musky spice of pheromones—reinforcing the compulsion to obey—sending drone, beta, alpha, and breeder scrambling. They dropped their eyes and offered their necks in submission.
The bigger the alpha, the more dominant, the more intelligent. Kane was a top shelf apex predator. Where Merrick was lean and pretty, currying favor from those stronger than him, Kane was powerful of body and aura, seeking favor from no one.
He popped the heads of liars with the casual ease of popping a forehead pimple.
And this place. His home.
