Page 9 of Choosing Her Alpha
She gave Silas her most determined, resolute expression. He needed to see it in her eyes and the set of her mouth. "Doing nothing isn't safe."
He inhaled deep, taking in the scent she knew swirled around her. "Alright then, child. Alright."
Chapter 4
Sasha planned to leave that day.
But Merrick, damn him—there was a mess in the common room from another fight. Several fights.
Sasha thought Merrick encouraged them, having figured out a way to glean extra money out of the violence. He'd taunted a beta, taller than himself, into the first conflict, credits stacked on the table for the winner to claim at the end. Merrick moved with fluid, predatory ease and a twinkle of humor in his eye that belied his deadliness.
As an industrial sector, the mostly single male worker population had nothing to spend their hard earned credits on except drinking, drugs, women, and violence. Despite the physical distinctions between betas and alphas, Merrick baited them both.
He provided booze, women, and on occasion, violence. By fighting and winning, he built respect and control, but tore the common rooms apart while doing it. Four benches and two tables suffered the consequences of his reckless indoor fighting. There was broken glass everywhere.
Lanny cut her hand trying to clean the mess. She cried, her blood dripping all over the floor.
With no drone doctors around, they always had to do the best they could in taking care of each other. Sasha went for the waxed thread and disinfectant.
When she returned, Merrick was there, shirt off and damp from a wash, his pants hanging low on his waist and clinging to his legs. He looked head-hurt from the night’s intemperance, face a sneering mask of irritation, his eyes too bloodshot to twinkle.
He stood over Lanny and Lilla, who were now cowering on the floor, faces pale and eyes full of helpless lust.
"Get up. What are you doing? I need this place cleaned up. I don't have time for you to be sitting around doing nothing." He was shouting, his muscles tense, as if preparing for another fight.
"Get up and do your jobs," he growled, flashing his incisors.
At his growl, the girls whimpered.
"You’re coming on too strong, Merrick," Sasha told him without thinking. "Lanny has a nasty gash on her hand. Don't you see all the blood?"
Sasha pointed at the girls on the floor, Lilla holding her sister, Lanny putting pressure on her palm with a rag that was rapidly darkening with blood. The cut was deep. Sasha just hoped that nothing vital had been sliced.
"I need to take care of it," she said.
He swung on her, a new target for his foul mood. "Are you telling me what to do again, little girl? Are you stepping in where you are not wanted? Do you think you are the boss?"
The cut on Lanny's hand was his fault, born of his recklessness. If he had to fight, why do it here? Why destroy things? There were other places that held pit fights.
He could have gone to any one of them to take on challengers. Maybe get some credits, and hopefully have his face bashed in. Why did he have to bring his low ways here, right here in the middle of her home?
Angry at him, Sasha met his eyes straight on, her thoughts out there for all to see.
Incredulous, his eyebrows shot up.
Her heart stuttered. Realizing her mistake, Sasha looked at the floor, but it was too late. Everything she did irritated him, but this—outright defiance and anger—sent him straight into a rage.
He rushed her, hands at her shoulders, pushing her all the way back to the wall. "So that's what you think of me? You think I'm a fool, that I can't smell it? You may still look like a baby, but I know how old you are. I know how close you are to your first fucking heat. Your cycle is going to change everything, little girl.Everything. I. Can't. Wait."
Sasha turned away and held her breath, ignoring the punishing grip of his fingers digging into her skin. He brought his body against hers, hot skin and alpha muscle overpowering her.
Merrick bent his shape around her to speak into her ear, too close to her neck. Instinct had her skin rippling in panic. She did not want this male at her neck. She did not want him in her space.
He wasn't just head-hurt from drink the night before; his breath smelled mead sweet. He was still drunk, all his rational thinking stripped away.
Heart pounding, her anger replaced by fear, she knew he could damage her badly in this state. He wouldn’t realize his mistake until later, and by then it could be too late for her.
"I don't know why I have to wait. I know you aren't much to look at, but you are still a tight, breeder cunt born for fucking. You know that, right, Sasha?" he hissed. "You know that the only thing you will ever be good for is taking a big cock up that little pussy hole of yours?"
