The Offering

by Rosary Deville

  My cheeks burned, and I didn’t want to face him. Most disturbingly, though, were my thoughts when he dominated me. That pissed me off. There was no way I was going to accept that mean, abusive jerk. In my mind, his neon-blue eyes and wolf features faded. I heard his heartbeat as I leaned against his chest. His whispered words of I love you.

  I didn’t know what to make of any of it. Don loved me? No, I couldn’t have heard that right. He was the abusive asshole trying to change my life as I knew it. He didn’t love me—couldn’t love me. He just wanted to own me. That was his lingering adrenaline speaking. After all, we both could have died. Surely that was all it was, and I decided to think no more about it.

  My phone glowed on the nightstand next to my side of the bed.

  Shamar! I had to let him know that I made it.

  I had over twenty missed calls, and he spammed me all night with texts like are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ve got a protection spell on you. Fern, please be okay. And on and on it went…

  After the terror of last night, I couldn’t berate him. I almost died. He’d been right to worry.

  Texting seemed a bit insensitive, so I called him up.

  The phone had barely rung when he picked up. “Fern!”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “You’re okay.” Shamar sighed heavily. “Praise, Ayida-Weddo!”

  I sprawled back onto the bed, closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of his breathing. I was safe. My life hadn’t ended. Things would go on for me—school, my band. I hadn’t been murdered by monsters last night.

  He did most of the talking, which was good because my mind was still jumbled. But it was comforting hearing his voice. By the time we ended the call, I was feeling much better emotionally.

  Getting out of bed, I went over to the walk-in closet. I was starving, my energy levels were depleted to the point I was surprised to still be in wereduin form. I didn’t feel like devoting time searching for an outfit, especially since most of my clothes were either in the hamper or packed away in boxes. I wasn’t fully moved into Don’s house.

  I settled on one of his tees. It was big on me, but whatever. I opened the door to the rich smell of coffee and something wonderful frying.

  My feet padded on the cold, wooden floor. The living room walls, made up entirely of windows, provided a magnificent view of the woods outside. Fog lingered between oak trees, mostly driven away by the mid-morning sun.

  Not many separators divided his spacious house. From the living room couches, I saw him in the kitchen. Wearing only his boxers, he had his back to me. I took a moment to study him. His long ponytail fell in the valley between his broad shoulders. His silver-brown hair complimented his dark mocha skin.

  A large tattoo spanned the entire length of his well-defined back. I recognized the design. The Twin Gods of War. Their two torsos shared a single lower body and connected such that their heads faced away from each other. The War Goddess, Bahd Cava was taller than her twin, Camalus, the War God. They shared two legs—one side male and the other female, although given their bulging physique, they looked similar. Their pose made Bahd Cava more prominent. With her arms and claws out, she slashed through some unseen foe. She held the same weapon those two alphas from that trio had used last night. The blades fitted between her fingers, successfully doubling her claws. Red blood glistened from the tips and dripped down her knives and fingers alike. Camalus held the same weapons. He too struck at some offstage enemy. Large, glowing red eyes completed their terrifying faces. Their jaws were wide open. Drool and blood dripped from their fangs. Fire and smoke surrounded them as if the Twins waged war against the old gods of Hell invading the Moon Vale.

  The reds and true blues of their armor, black fur, and piercing silver blades were strikingly vivid. Like a work of art, every minute detail looked painstakingly defined.

  Some parts of the tattoo, like the fire and smoke, were softer, and the contrast made them appear like pastels on canvas. Up until now, I’d never seen Don’s tattoo this blatantly. I knew he had one from the many times he’d fucked me, but this was the first time I could take it all in. How long had something that size taken to complete? Had it been painful to undergo?

  I wished I could move Don’s ponytail out of the way. The hair drawing a line through the Twins almost seemed fitting.

  My eyes followed the curve of his spine to where the tattoo ended. Then traveled lower to his ass. Even though I was not into guys, I had to say it was nice. Firm and muscular. Mid-thought, I grew angry. I absolutely was not attracted to that jerk. Nor would I feed his bloated ego by complimenting his good looks. Good looks? As if!

  “Morning.” Don looked over his shoulder, and his smile reached his eyes. He smirked as he took in my appearance. “Looks good on you.”

  Shrugging, I ran a hand through my messy curls to get them out of my eyes. “Well, not like I got a choice. You took my clothes, and I’m too drained to go through my boxes.”

  “For washing. They were disgusting.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I felt the need to fight him. “Well, who got me that way, huh? You’re the one who has to constantly touch me!”

  Don raised his brow before he went back to frying. “How do you take your eggs?”

  I scoffed at him. “You just gonna ignore me now?”

  “I’m not ignoring you. Your eggs? How do you want them?”

  My sigh came out as a tired growl. “Sunnyside up.”

  “There.” His smile returned. Was he mocking me? “That wasn’t so hard.”

  Brooding, I sank into a chair at the breakfast nook. The black marble was cool beneath my fingers. I tapped my foot against the chair’s tall legs.

  “You should give your parents a call.”

  “What?” Those words sounded weird to me. For a moment, it felt like I’d just had a sleepover with my buddies, not woken up from demanding sex with my alpha, forcing me into submission.

  “Your parents. Call them.” He tilted his head over to the landline. Who still had one of those nowadays? Feh…old-timer. “The Silver trials are deadly. I’m sure they must be worried.”

  Knowing them, they probably weren’t.

  “I doubt it. You can’t do any wrong in their eyes,” I said before I realized this was going to bloat his already huge ego.

  He set down my plate. It looked super delicious, with sunny-side eggs on two pieces of toast. I took a whiff of its heavenly smell before I realized what I was doing. Feeling pouty, I wanted to rebel and not eat his food, but my stomach growled painfully.

  “I’m flattered and all.” He was more than flattered by the pompous way he puffed up like a balloon. “But all the same, call them.” He served himself next and took a seat beside me. Right beside me, not a seat in-between us. It made me feel vulnerable. This person could rape me, hurt me again. I was no match against him. Don knew that as well as I did.

  For a moment, I was terrified. That was strange given how mouthy I was to him and not likely to stop anytime soon. But my cheek stung in a reminder of his strikes.

  “You don’t have to fear me.” He ate his food as if a teenage boy wasn’t trembling beside him. “I don’t intend on hurting you.”

  I took some calming breaths. I hated this person. Why did I have to be afraid of him, anyway? Stupid body.

  “I’m not afraid of you.” I was glad my voice came out snappy, defiant.

  “Uh-huh.” He opened the newspaper, confirming once again how old he was, the old pervert.

  “I’m not.”

  “Call your folks. I mean it.”

  “Or what?”

  He put down the paper, and I flinched. “I said I won’t hurt you, so stop it already.”

  “Well, who made me like that, huh? You hit me.”

  “Only when there’s reason.”

  “Sounds like what an abuser would say.”

  Getting up with a sigh, he grabbed the landline and put it into my hand. “Not all betas survive Silver. Remember your friend.”

&n
bsp; Myrtle. Her scared face would torment me for the rest of my life.

  He sighed again. “Don’t go getting all emotional again. Gods, are you sensitive.”

  “Sensitive?” I glared at him. I wanted to throw my plate at him, but I was too hungry. “I saw them cut her up! While she was alive! And her face. Her eyes…she was so scared.”

  “Of course, they were killing her. How else was she supposed to feel?”

  I pushed back my chair, making a scraping sound on the floor. “Unbelievable. You don’t feel anything for her? To die like that. And for what? Some stupid archaic mating trials?”

  “Archaic, huh?”

  “Yes, that is what it is. I’m not your property simply because you kidnapped me.”

  “Man, are you annoying. Maybe teenagers are too young. Maybe I should’ve given you a few more years.”

  “What?”

  “I would have, but there was no way your mother would not be putting you in the Offering as soon as you came of age.”

  “You…” His words took me back to the night before. “You said something like that last night.”

  He smiled softly. “Yeah. I did.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I pursued you. Wanted you for a while, actually.” I studied him, looking for understanding in his blue eyes, which were still startlingly blue, although no longer the neon when he transformed.

  “And now I’ve got you.” His smile brightened.

  Grumbling, I sat back down and picked at my food. That was until I tasted it, then I was shoveling it down. “Wow, this is really good!” I hadn’t intended to compliment the arrogant asshole, but my mouth was singing praises all on its own. I was starving.

  He messed up my hair. “Good.” He poured himself another coffee. “Your parents. Start calling. Now.”

  I breathed and slowed my chewing. I decided to call them to help pace myself so I didn’t upset my stomach, pigging it all down. I punched in the number for my parents’ house, thankfully remembering it, even though after cellphones, I’d forgotten most phone numbers, Shamar’s included.

  Papa picked up on the first ring. “Fern!”

  “It’s me, Papa.”

  His deep breath of relief made me feel guilty. He must have been worried sick. “Thank the Goddess.”

  “Always for Her kindness,” I answered with the chorus of the psalm out of habit. “Didn’t mean to worry you. Is Mom okay?”

  “Your mother? She has been my rock. Believes in your alpha.”

  Grumbling, I rolled my eyes. “Of course she does.”

  “And she was right to trust.” He sounded like he both reassured and chastised himself at the same time. “I won’t doubt anymore.”

  “Why? He’s still a jerk to me.”

  “Jerk to you?”

  “Yeah, he hit me.”

  Oddly, Don didn’t interject and instead kept reading his paper.

  “For what? Does this happen often?” Leave it to Papa to worry.

  “Yes. That jerk hit me last night! And it still stings.”

  “Are you okay?” For a moment, I wanted to play on his anxiety in hopes that he would let me come home, but I heard the strain of exhaustion in his voice. “Wait… Last night? During Silver?” Mentioning last night had been a mistake.

  I swallowed. I swear I saw the ghost of a smile on that jerk’s face. “Well, yeah…”

  “Did you leave your quilt?”

  “I had to.” Myrtle’s scared face resurfaced, distracting me. I was much more upset about what had happened to Myrtle than about Don hitting me. “I saw...” The words stuck to my throat. “Myrtle…she was…”

  “I know, Fern. I’m so sorry. Her family was informed early this morning.” Papa sighed into the phone. “They’d hoped that she’d last long enough to be freed from slavery. Her father had been trying to get other alphas to challenge that beastly slaver. He wasn’t having much luck, though, because that alpha who claimed her happened to also be a Highborne. Still, I’d heard at least one was interested.” Papa released a breath. “Thank Arduinna that Donovan claimed you during the Hunt! I don’t even know what I’d do if you had become a slave. Not that your mother was worried, given all of your many suitors.” Pride entered his voice.

  I’d long stopped listening. All I could think about was Myrtle. Had she survived the night, she might’ve been saved from slavery. I balled my fists. “Fuck the stupid Offering! I shouldn’t have waited so long to try and save her!”

  “You did what? Fern, you could have been killed.”

  I looked down at my food, and I diverted my eyes like Papa was here disciplining me. “I know.”

  “Donovan was right to strike you. The Silver Offering is never to be taken lightly.”

  I shoved out of my chair and started pacing. Thankfully, the landline was cordless. “You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve never been so terrified. I thought I was going to die…”

  “And you could very well have. I’m sorry that had to happen to Myrtle, but just the thought of losing you…I can’t bear it. You will put Donovan on after this, so I can thank him properly.”

  I blew out a breath. “He’s my alpha, Papa. You don’t have to thank him.”

  Papa hummed into the phone. “I guess you’re right. But no matter how old you get, despite now that you’re mated, you’ll still be my little pup.”

  Mated…shit. That was right. Don and I were one Offering away from him officially being my alpha, my dominant. Forever.

  My body trembled. I remembered the way he sucked on my skin until it bruised. How he didn’t let up on my nipples even though I begged him. It hurt. But it was intoxicating too, addicting. For a moment, I wanted him to knock everything off the table and take me right on top of it. I wanted him inside of me.

  “Your mother wants to speak with Donovan. And I do, too. Put him on the phone, please, Fern.”

  “Wait, wait, Papa! I don’t want to live with Don.”

  “Fern, he’s your mate. Law has it—”

  “I’m too young to be mated. Can I at least live with you guys until school is over?”

  “Of course not, Fern. You are Donovan’s beta now, and if he wants you to live with him, then you have to follow his wishes.”

  I headed into the living room, away from the back of the newspaper, where Don was either pretending not to listen or else not caring in the least. Maybe because he knew I was trapped with him. He had won me, claimed me twice now. My neck still stung in both places where he bit me.

  “But Papa, I can’t stand him.” I knew I was whining, but I didn’t care. The wooden tiles beneath my feet had warmed up since this morning. I paced the spacious, wide-open living room and went over to the oak tree. It grew straight through Don’s living room and out of the roof. I pressed my hand against the bark, feeling the bumpy edges against my fingers.

  “I know this is a trying time,” Papa said, voice softening. “You’ve got a strong spirit. Much like me when I was your age. It took your mother and I longer than the month of Offering to complete my Dominating period. Let yourself submit to him, Fern. He is a good wolf. He will protect you and treat you kindly. And when you birth his pups, you’ll be the happiest you’ve ever been.”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  “Fern, this is why Donovan punishes you. You need to let go of your stubbornness. You are mated now. You belong to Donovan. Treat him as your alpha and do as he says. I promise you that after the Dominating period, things will get much better, as they did for your mom and me.” I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t get to tell him that because he wanted to speak with Don. And Mom was probably waiting for her turn, too.

  I would not be permitted to talk to my mother until after the Dominating. She was another alpha, and until Don broke me in completely, her presence could be seen as a threat, regardless that she was my mother. Papa could talk to me because he was a beta.

  I heard Mom talking to Don. It was clear when he changed from talking with my
dad, who was no doubt thanking him, to talking with my mom.

  “By Babd Catha’s hand, I protected him. And let not a single blow befallen him.”

  He was quoting literature, referring to how the Twin Gods of War protected their beta, Arawn the God of Death, from the old gods who wanted to rid Death from the world.

  It sounded more like a skit, and it made me think of the mating vows. These official vows, spoken on the Final Offering, were also a skit of sorts. Thinking about saying those lines to Don made my chest hot, and my lower body ached faintly. I turned my thoughts off that topic, or I would be standing in a pool of my own precum and beta juices.

  My mom’s muffled words responded to him. I couldn’t make anything out, but it made Don smile. A real smile. “Thank you, Teacher Brightwood.” Then his tone returned to being serious. “I swear to take care of your pup at the cost of my own life.”

  I kind of wished I knew what they were saying, but at the same time, I didn’t care. Most likely, it was more pompous alpha crap. Instead, I decided to watch some TV, but not before grabbing my plate of Don’s tasty food. That last part upset me, but I was too hungry to pass up breakfast.

  Chapter Four

  Punishment

  From the little I saw of Shamar over the next few days, he looked like death. He’d excused himself to throw up in the bathroom on Belsday, and now on Twinsday, his normal green skin had taken on a sickly yellowish hue. The bags under his eyes kept getting saggier. Despite being zombie, he was still living flesh—not living the way Alphonse and I were, though—as he hadn’t undergone his Change.

  He was untalkative and secretive too. Something was up with him, and I had to go find out.

  Don and I had finished dinner, him picking up the plates to start washing.