Page 86 of Sweetheart: Part One

“I’m rather fond of surprises.”

“Do I know you?” I asked, mind racing. Sometimes, when he spoke, I felt like I might have heard his voice before.

“Certainly not.” His chuckle was derisive. “I thought I would check in before I left and see how you’re progressing. Did you finish the book?”

I stared at him, my chest suddenly heaving.

The plan had seemed good at the time, but now I was faced with the consequences… regret was a weak word for what I felt.

“I finished what I could,” I said.

There was a pause, and then he leaned forward. “Whatever does that mean, Vex?”

The dark voids where the mask covered his eyes were chilling.

“I read what I could,” I said again, trying to keep my voice steady. “But the book isn’t readable.”

I’d hated it. Every page had felt like a taunt. A book about alpha tendencies and how they can be managed by omegas and betas. They were training me to be a good omega for them, and I couldn’t take it. Bile rose in my throat at the thought.

“What did you do?”

“I… destroyed it.” My heart was in my throat as I steeled myself for his anger.

There was a long, long silence.

“How?” he asked.

Not the question I’d been expecting.

My voice was a low whisper. “I ripped it to pieces and then left them in the bath.”

It was gone. A soggy, irreparable mess. Doing it had been both terrifying and thrilling all at once.

“And why did you do that?”

“You never said I couldn’t.”

He sighed. “You really are your own worst enemy.”

I wasn’t a fool, especially not when it came to alphas. I knew what their wrath could look like when it came to defiant omegas.

I knew, and I’d done this anyway.

He would hurt me. I prayed on the other end, I would still believe it was worth it. Because I wanted to be strong enough that I never broke.

I would rather die than become theirs.

Only, there was no explosion of rage from him.

When he spoke, his voice was much more level than I was expecting. “The moment I leave, you’ll strip to your underwear, climb into the tub and run it cold. Remain submerged but for your mouth and nose until I return tonight with another copy. If, at any point, the water warms up, you will drain it and run it again.”

I stared at him, horror tightening my chest.

When Alastor returned, I was a weeping wreck, holding myself tight in frigid water. He watched me drag myself from the tub, shivering more violently than I ever had in my life. He set down another copy of the book on the vanity.

It was agony, sinking down before him, so cold and weak that all my muscles screamed in protest. All I wanted was to curl up and find warmth.

I hated him.

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