OLAMIDE

How could that dumb mess come out my mouth? For real, did I just say that? I wanted to live, didn’t I? So why was I tryna throw my life away? I glanced up at him real quick, tryna read his face. My words must’ve hit his ego hard. My brain started spinning through every possible outcome, but none of them looked good. Either I ended up dead or… screwed. Literally.

And when those are your only options, confessin’ that some messed-up part of your brain wanna see your captor naked don’t sound that crazy.

He looked calm, too calm, but I could feel the beast sittin’ behind those grey eyes, fightin’ to break through, ready to make me eat my words. He didn’t believe a damn thing I said. He wanted me to admit the truth, and for lying, he wanted to punish me. I could feel it. His thoughts were loud as hell.

“Fascinating,” he drawled, leanin’ forward. He wiped a bit of sauce off my lip with his thumb. “I have to say, that’s a first.”

Then he put that same thumb in his mouth and licked it clean. And Lord help me, my body reacted before my brain could stop it. I hated that it made me shiver in all the right places.

“I guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior,” he went on smoothly, “if my looks ain’t gonna do it. Till then, be a good little girl and you got nothin’ to fear from me.”

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. This man really thought he was some kind of saint just ‘cause he said please and thank you? He could read my mind—my mind, for crying out loud—and he actually thought I’d believe he bought that lie? Please.

Still, I had to play the part. I gave him my best obedient tone. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Even sayin’ that title made my stomach twist up like bad milk. Maybe he could feel it. Maybe he didn’t care. Nothing about him made sense. The fact that I was sittin’ here thinkin’ these thoughts while he was probably listenin’ to every one of them proved I was dealin’ with a damn wild card. Or maybe I was losin’ my mind already. Maybe that whole mind-reading thing was just some twisted trick they pulled on new toys like me.

Before I could spiral any deeper into my paranoia, there was a knock at the door.

Before Jason could move, the door flung open by itself, and in walked a black cat.

“Hey,” the intruder said, noddin’ at me like this was normal.

I didn’t wave back. Hell no. He looked friendly, but I wasn’t stupid. Anybody walkin’ around here was one of them. Maybe a different brand of crazy, but still crazy. Pity though. He had nice eyes.

Jason moved fast, shovin’ the man back out into the hall. They started whisperin’ like conspirators while I kept my eyes on Zeus, my cat, sittin’ across from me. His green eyes locked on Luna, who sat by my feet, and he hissed like she’d offended his ancestors. I damn near laughed. Even in the middle of my misery, that cat stayed petty.

Jason came back in with a small plastic bag—my stuff, I guessed—and slammed the door behind him.

I forced a little smile when he tossed it my way. “Thanks,” I murmured, mostly relieved he didn’t dig through it first.

But his gaze had already shifted to Zeus. I saw that judgment in his eyes. He was sizing my cat up like he wanted to know his soul. Zeus, being the traitor he is, strutted right over to Jason, sniffed him, and rubbed against his leg like they were besties. Disgusting. Out of all the weird things to happen, this one had me clenching my fists.

Jason scooped him up, stroked his fur, and gave me this smug little smirk when the cat started purring. The imagery was just… wrong.

“What’s his name?” Jason asked.

“Zeus,” I said quietly.

He raised a brow. “Why’d you name him after a manwhore?”

I sighed. “I didn’t name him.” I caught myself. “My brother did.”

Jason frowned, and for a second, it looked like he almost felt sorry for me. Maybe he could sense there was a story behind it. My life was pathetic enough to make even monsters pity me.

“It’s gettin’ late,” he said finally, glancing at the clock. “You should freshen up and get to bed before you exhaust yourself.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed the bag and made a break for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Finally. Alone.

***

I stood in front of the mirror, breathing slow. Somewhere outside, the bastard was playing Carry Your Throne by Jon Bellion. Real cute. I clutched my pile of clothes to my chest and stared at my reflection. My hair was a mess, my eyes swollen from crying, my soul barely hangin’ on.

How was I supposed to take a shower, brush my teeth, pretend any of this was normal? My throat tightened. I wanted to scream. I wanted someone—anyone—to hear me. To care enough to help.

But nobody would.

Tears spilled again before I could stop them. How was I supposed to sleep in that man’s bed, knowing I was one bad move away from bein’ violated?

And then my stupid brain went back to his question. Do you find me attractive?

And I hated myself because… yeah. I did. My disgusting, broken self did. He was beautiful. He was poison wrapped in perfection, and I was the fool dumb enough to want a taste. Was it the bond? Some mystical thing tying me to him? Or was I just that messed up?

I didn’t know.

All I knew was I had to survive. Plan my escape. Keep my head low and play my part until I found a way out. I couldn’t die here. Not like this.

I brushed, flossed, took a long bath, and even tried prying open the tiny window above the tub—no luck. Afterward, I just sat there on the edge of the tub, wrapped in a towel, staring at the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the bathroom. If I took too long, maybe he’d get mad. Maybe he’d punish me. But the idea of stepping out there terrified me even more.

Then came the knock.

“Ola, you all right in there?”

A dry laugh slipped out before I could stop it. The question was so stupid it almost made me cry again. Was I all right?

I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and finally opened the door.

And Lord, I wished I hadn’t.

Jason stood there—completely naked. Not even a towel. Just his smug ass smirk and a body that looked carved outta sin.

I froze. My eyes betrayed me before my brain caught up. I tried lookin’ anywhere but there, but it wasn’t easy when there was standin’ tall and proud, if you catch my drift.

He promised. I’d been good. Why was he backtracking now?

I tried to slip past him toward the bed, hopin’ he’d take the hint. Maybe he’d let me have this one bit of peace.

He blocked me, tilting his head with that damn smirk. “Strip.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

“I don’t want you wearin’ that in my bed. I want you naked.”

My heart damn near stopped. I stumbled back a few steps. “E-excuse me? I-I thought you said—”

“I said nothin’ about nightclothes,” he cut in, voice low and smooth like poison. “Take it off.”

The words rolled out his mouth slow, like he was savorin’ each one. He looked like a predator ready to feast.

And all I could think was, If I obey, who’s gonna protect me from him?