Page 19 of Feral Omega

I turn to stare at him, my mouth hanging open. Not much? This room is nicer than anything I've ever had in my life, even at the camp where Mom and I shared a tent on the outskirts during a period of brief but blissful freedom.

And he's apologizing for it?

"I... I get my own room?" I manage to croak out, my voice rusty from disuse.

Thane's brow furrows, confusion flickering in his dark eyes. "Of course. Where else would you sleep?"

I almost laugh at the absurdity of the question. Where else, indeed? On the floor, most likely. Or chained to the foot of his bed like a dog. Maybe even in a cage.

"I just... I didn't expect..." I trail off, unsure how to put into words the magnitude of what he's offering me.

Privacy.

Personal space.

A small slice of autonomy in a world where I have none.

It's more than I ever dared to hope for.

Which means it's going to be snatched away from me when I least expect it. I can't let my guard down. I'm sure that's exactly what he wants.

What they all want.

Thane studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable as ever. Then he nods, as if coming to some sort of decision. "This is your space, Ivy. No one will enter without your permission. Not even me."

I blink at him, sure I must have misheard.

"I can't say the same for outside these quarters," he continues, his voice low and rough. "And I won't pretend we're not just a pack of feral alphas, but I think you'll find this place is better than what you're used to. Which isn't saying much, if what I saw back at the Refinement Center is any indication."

I say nothing, watching him closely, looking for any sign that he's lying.

Not that he has any reason to. He can do whatever he wants to me without facing any consequences.

Any alpha can.

"Well, I'll let you get some rest," he says, backing toward the door. "We usually have meals in the mess hall, but I'm assuming you're tired, so I'll have one of the servants bring you some food later along with the extra blankets and some supplies."

I watch as he leaves, shutting the door behind him, and wait until I hear his heavy footfalls go down the hall before I hurry over and lock the door. Not that it'll do any good if one of the other alphas decides to prove him wrong. I'm sure any of them could break a door off its hinges without breaking a sweat.

I sink against the wood, letting out a slow breath.

So this is it. My new prison.

He's right about one thing—it's a hell of a lot nicer than the last. But I'm not enough of a fool to believe I'm anything more to these men than I was to the alphas at the Refinement Center.

Fresh meat.

Breeding stock.

It's all the same in the end. But it's the first time I've had a space I can call my own since I can remember, and as I go back over to the window, pressing my hand against the glass, freedom is so close I can taste it.

I just have to be smart about it.

I just have to bide my time.

Chapter

Eight

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