Page 37 of Mindeater

“I—sir!”

“Hush now. You’ll stay here quietly.” He lingers on my bottom lip, his thumb pulling the skin taut as he watches it slap back against my teeth. “I give you too much freedom. I see that now. Close your eyes and accept your punishment.”

I hate that I whimper.

I hate that when the buzz of the bars roars back to life, I flinch.

I hate that when he turns off the light and leaves the empty room, I cry.

But worst of all, I hate that I would do anything at all if it meant he’d let me out.

I’d submit fully just to escape this prison.

***

On the sixth night, Matthias pulls me out of the cage, holds me in his lap, and slowly feeds me water.

I suckle like a nursing babe, every inch of me pulverized by pain. He massages me, bathes me, and then tucks me into bed. It’s another week before I can get up to relieve myself without his help. Another week before I can stomach more than a few bites. And when I’m back to my normal self, seated at his dinner table, his hand on my thigh, I start plotting.

A true plan.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says softly, that horrible rasp in his voice more prominent today.

“Thank you, sir.” I stab at a sliced carrot and force myself to eat it.

“It’s something you’ll love. A treat for being so good.”

Incapacitated is more accurate, but I bite my tongue.

“Look at me.”

I do. His thinning red hair is streaked with silver these days. The shining bald spot at the crown of his head glistens under the dining room lights. “As much as you’re treated as one of us, I know you don’t feel as accepted or welcomed as you could be.”

“Sir?” My brows pinch together.

The hand on my thigh travels higher and inward. He’s… “Sir?” I ask again, my voice higher.

“A mating ritual will solve that. Every omega needs an alpha, Saren. I’ve discussed it with the council, and they agree. You will be mine in every way. Isn’t that wonderful?”

I can’t control my face. How wide and unblinking my eyes are. Firm fingers stroke me through my pants, his violet eyes glowing as his mastery seeps into my mind, finding unplucked strings and coaxing them to life.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He can’t get away with this.

I haven’t even had my first heat yet. The council suspects I never will. I can’t go through a mating ritual.

“Tell me you accept.”

Blood rushes between my legs, foreign and horrible.

I thought it’d never come to this. I thought—

“Tell me!” he roars, cupping me and squeezing so hard I whimper.

“Yes! Yes, o-of c-course.”

Satisfied, he keeps rubbing me. “Eat.”