Page 13 of Thief

The wall parts, and I jolt up.

In heavy boots, Eron enters, and his mother drops off a tray mounded with food and water inside the room. She gives me a brief glance and a warm smile.

Before she leaves and the door closes, I smile back. “Thank you.” I know my manners.

The Alpha sits on a chair in the opposite corner, next to the food. Black boots peek from under his long, black, leather kilt, which is adorned with weapons and leaves his chest and arms bare. Yellow tattoos positively glow across his chest and arms. He’s got full sleeves and a tattoo over the chest, with a line trailing from his neck down to his private parts. My brain conjures images of where the line ends.

Swallowing hard, I look away. A mistake. Now I’m staring at the food and water. Drool accumulates in my mouth, and I swallow, wiping my lips.

“Eat something,” he orders.

I’m hungry, thirsty, and gonna faint here in a few minutes, but I’m not going near him. “Not hungry.”

He smirks. “Suicidal?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re no longer in the trader's house. This is my house. My bedroom.”

“I’m happy to be your concubine.” Not.

Hiseyebrowsdraw down. Since he’s got no hair but for the patch at the back of his head, the gesture describes a frown my previous captor used when his translator didn’t work.

“Concubine,” I repeat. “A woman used for sex.”

“A breed mate.”

“Same difference. Not for me.”

“It very much is for you, or I wouldn't have bothered risking my life for yours. Remember how I asked you to choose? You chose.”

“You will treat me the same way as a Regha Horde would. How many males are in your pack?”

He smirks. “I won’t share you.”

“The illusive Omegas everyone wants and only the most honorable Alphas can earn? You haven’t earned one, and you never will. You’re not in the king’s service. I’m just a viable replacement.”

His smile is wide and condescending. “I thought we made progress this morning. I hoped. But no. You are stubborn. And also right, that I’m not in the king’s service. Would you like me to take you back to the house you came from? The king’s service males will be happy to use you. In fact, they will fight over you, like hounds over fresh meat. Choose.”

I want to slap the smile off his face. My insides twist, and my lower-belly cramps make me sweat. I grit my teeth. Don’t want to show him pain. I wish he’d leave, so I could rid myself of this horrible sexual urge. Though I count my blessings this didn’t happen to me in the merchant’s house. At least this male isn’t repulsive. Unfortunately, he’s not repulsive at all. He’s dangerously sexy, in a tattooed bad-boy kind of way.

“What do you do?” I ask as a distraction.

He stands and gets a pitcher of water. Pours it slowly in a cup, watching me the entire time. I feel his eyes on me, but the thirst makes me follow the water from the pitcher to the cup and up, as he drinks long, loud gulps of water. I swipe my tongue over my dry lips.

Eron fills another cup. “I’m willing to play this game. You drink and eat. In exchange, you get to ask me anything.”

“Are you gonna answer me?”

“Maybe.”

I snort. “Keep your fucking water.”

“And food.”

“And food.” Jerk.

He sits back down, elbows on the armrest. “Would you like to know what I think is happening to you?”

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