by Isoellen
Drone science had produced the original alpha.
Drones were born with simpler endocrine systems and senses. They were "common" in every way. Couldn't identify pheromones. Weak eyesight. Weak hearing. Average strength. Yet with numbers five times breed population, they were the foundation of everything, and Sasha tried to treat them with the respect they deserved.
Which meant she tried not to manipulate and control them. Usually.
Girta, however, didn't care for her respect, and wasn't going to be influenced by kindness or a breeder's special brand of mental manipulation.
After Girta left, Sasha took in the glory that was the bathroom Kane had built for his harem. Brushing her teeth and using a toilet that gave her a surprise when it squirted cold water at her bottom, she decided to investigate the bottles and jars herself and find a new scent.
It wasn’t that she hated smelling like a vanilla cake. It was kind of nice. But it grated that someone else had decided she was going to smell and look like a dessert.
She was not staying in a harem and becoming a jewel in the alpha's colorful jewel box. That was not for her. She'd go back home, straight to the Administration building, and ask for the Selection now. Even without having her fist cycle and her maturation, she was technically old enough to choose.
But it was risky. They might just contact Merrick. But she would not be part of some strange, powerful alpha's harem then, either.
Pulling open cabinets and looking though drawers, she thought this must be what shopping was like. She got to sort through soaps and creams, sniffing everything. She thought she'd try the shower afterwards, but it had about twenty knobs and no instructions. After getting blasted with icy water twice from two different directions, she gave up and went to the big tub.
Like a little girl, she poured in bubble bath, dished in salts, tossed a hard round thing that smelled delicious and fizzed when it hit the water, and filled the tub as high as it would go. If Kane didn't care about his water usage, Sasha wasn't going to care either.
She wet her hair and slathered silky coconut scented shampoo in it, as well as conditioner as thick as whipped cream. Sweeping glittery gold soap into a cloth, she washed all her parts with a different scent than the one in her hair. It made no sense to choose just one when there were hundreds of bottles.
After, she made a mess with the lotions. Remembering all the comments yesterday about the rough state of her skin, she picked a variety of lotions for her feet, hands, and body.
It wasn't until she stood in front of the mirror, looking at the chain and medallion around her neck, that she realized some of the glittery products she used left behind a shine. She giggled at the gold sparkles on her cheeks and neck, the purple shimmer on her hands, the white highlights on her feet.
At home, she made do with a nice and bubbly, scentless bar soap that she and the drones made for themselves. She'd never heard that there was sparkly stuff like this. It might be fun to try and recreate it when she got back to her real life.
She dilly dallied so long in the bathroom that a drone came looking for her with Sasha's tea and fruit in hand. She smiled with delight and thanked the servant. Yet despite the bath and all the excessive, indulgent play, she still felt off.
She had practically bathed in lotion, yet her skin felt like it didn't fit her. It was too tight, too hot. This place was making her ill. Sasha couldn't remember the last time anything had made her ill. Normally she was preternaturally healthy.
She gulped the tea, which had a brackish medicinal taste, hoping it would help. "Thank you so much. I'm Sasha. What's your name?"
This girl was younger. She blinked big light gray eyes at Sasha with a startled expression and answered hesitantly. "I'm Davila."
Sasha spent ten minutes chatting with Davila before the girl agreed to find her different clothing to wear, even if it came from her own locker.
Sasha hugged Davila when she brought her a lavender, knee length tunic split at the sides to the waist, and striped blue and purple leggings to go with it. She promised to repay her new friend as soon as she could, even though Davila said it wasn't necessary and she wouldn't take anything besides.
A little older than Sasha and about five inches taller, Davila stood behind her and combed out Sasha's hair when she asked for her assistance.
"You can't put it in a plain braid. You'll look like a drone girl. You have on the alpha's collar, and you’re registered, even if your mark is in a weird place." Davila waved her left hand at Sasha, demonstrating her own little black drone star. "I could do a different kind of braid if you want, but your hair is so beautiful. You should leave it loose."
Sasha smiled at the suggestion. She felt her heart glow a bit at the other girl's quick camaraderie, knowing that Davila would never dare offer advice to any of those sleeping women in the tents in the big room.
"Since I haven't had my estrous, I don't have adult pheromones yet. I like confusing all those alphas and betas when they can't figure out my smell. A braid is fun."
Davila's eyebrows bounced up into her hairline. "You don't care that they might think you are a drone worker?"
Sasha shook her head.
"You like to live on the crazy side. I have to say, I'm pretty sure you don't smell like one of us. Not that I can usually tell. How the betas and alphas would be able to scent anything about you beyond this fruit basket thing you have going on right now, I don't know."
"Maybe it's my own smell that is making my head hurt and my skin feel all tight. I used a lot of different things this morning. Do you think there might be some pain suppressors in here?"
Sasha was looking at Davila's reflection in the mirror as she felt a bolt of cold air brush across her senses.
She knew Kane was upstairs even before she heard the roar.
Davila’s face went white, the girl instantly paralyzed by fear.
"Stay here for a few minutes, okay?" Damp hair like a cape behind her, Sasha ran into the ice rather than away from it. She was all kinds of a fool. It was smarter to avoid this male. But her impulse control was messed up, turned around, and leading her in the wrong direction.
Constantine Kane stood inside the big room, both doors wide open behind him. His white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to the elbows, revealing cords of muscle that flexed and tensed as he fisted his hands.
His posture and scent screamed aggression as he leaned down into Terasa's space. He wasn't yelling, but the anger behind his words made each of them seem brutally loud. He filled up the entire space with his presence.
"You left her in here?" His outrage had the force of a hammer, pounding at Terasa. "What made you think that I had changed everything I believe in, everything my parents taught me, to suddenly become a pedophile?"
Terasa couldn't seem to look at him. Her head was down, tipped to the side, neck exposed. Sasha's first impression of this woman had been athletic strength and confidence. Today she was just a skinny white stick about to be broken in half.
"Sir, the girl is almost an adult. I assumed you might—"
"You assumed too much. I never said this room. I said a private sleeping bed. I assumed you might take her to the children's wing because she is a child, and I wanted her to have a chance at sleeping. I assumed you would use the alpha senses you were born with and realize that this girl is untouched, and I assumed you would remember how we treat such girls in this compound!"
Terasa shrank before his wrath. He looked ready to kill her.
Sasha scanned the room and saw no one else, though she could taste the fear of the women shivering in their tents. He had pleasured them for hours last night, but not one of them dared face him when he was angry.
Not wanting to see Terasa’s brains splattered all over the floor like the last person that angered him, Sasha tip-toed over. He made her feel like prey, but that didn’t mean she had to be helpless and useless. She slid between him and his target, lightly touching his forearm with the tips of her fingers as she sought his atte
ntion with the most mundane thing she could think of.
"What time is that doctor's appointment? You didn't tell me, and I still need to dry my hair."
The inane question turned to pure stupidity as soon as it hit the air. She flinched at the sound of it.
Kane looked down at her intrusion with a snap of his chin. His cheeks reddened, though not in anger. No, the biting smell of his anger softened to something strange and shrinking.
Embarrassment. Shame.
He hadn't known she was in the room last night and knew what she must have heard.
An embarrassed alpha. That was a first.
He had never intended to send her to the harem. Before the relief registered in her brain, he was giving new directions.
"Get your shoes on, Sasha," he said briskly. Embarrassed or not, he offered no apology. "Do you have a jacket? We are going to be late."
"She can borrow one of mine," Bella said, stepping out of her tent wrapped in a red sheet. A sheer red sheet. She posed there for a minute, beautiful shape and high, pointy nipples out for all to see.
Sasha was not going to take anything from Bella. She dashed into where she’d slept last night and found the plain shoes she had worn here, stuffing her feet into the stinky brown things.
When she returned, Bella was naked and pressed up against Kane's chest, a delicate, luscious creature next to his monstrous size.
Drawing near the couple, Sasha choked on the scent of the other woman. Kane must have washed already this morning, but Bella had not. She smelled like sex and the man beside her. He would have taken her several times. Sasha thought she remembered someone crying and begging for his knot.
An impulse to go up behind Bella, grab fistfuls of that shiny, blue-black hair, and pull her down to the floor filled Sasha's limbs. She could see herself doing it. A bucket and bristle brush would appear, something to scrub that smell off the other woman.
Sasha so needed to leave this place. Her head hammered out the rapid beat of her heart right behind her eyes in agreement.
"Ready!" She dashed around them and out into the hall, unable to stomach being in that room for one more moment. She didn't know where she was going, but it didn't really matter. Maybe she'd bump into a drone she could convince to help her escape.
This had been a horrible idea. Silas was right—coming to Merrick’s enemy for help had been stupid. This place offered a different torture than what Merrick and her mother had planned, but she would still be miserable.
She needed to find an Administration House and file for Selection immediately. It was her only hope to find a worthy male to protect her and everything she loved.
She was down the steps and jogging through the main hallway when an impatient bark caused her body to seize, freezing her in place.
That damn alpha voice of his.
"Come, Sasha. This way."
She groaned and hung her head.
"Sasha,” he called again.
With a little growl, Sasha turned, following the beastly male.
Absently he grabbed her hand to pull her down a different hall, through a large room, and out a set of doors into a lighted entryway. His strides were long, and she had to take three steps to every one of his. The space was cavernous, white stone floors underfoot and a high arched ceiling with a glittering glass chandelier suspended from the center. Another magical room stolen from a storybook. Four uniformed guards stood in the corners, each of them armed with guns.
As she and Kane approached a side door, it opened to reveal another man—a beta, his arms full of things obviously meant for Kane. A belt holster with two guns on it, a heavy coat, and a sheathed sword nearly as long as Sasha was tall.
Sasha eyed the guns. One needed special permits for them, signed directly by the king himself. Their manufacture was on a need-to-use basis only. Guns, explosives, and audio deterrent devices—any weapons that could be used by drones to subdue breed—had been regulated in the 12 Sectors since Restitution Day. She knew what they were but had never actually seen one.
Yet here, in this compound, all of Kane’s men carried them. It was unheard of.
"I thought we were just going to the doctor's?"
Dropping her hand to dress himself in the weapons, he didn’t bother to respond. "Coat," he said to the man in front of him.
Sasha received a quick assessing glance before the guy went back where he came from, returning with a coat in hand. Sasha started to smile and thank him, but Kane got in the way, taking the coat and putting the soft, wooly thing on her as if she were a child who couldn't do it for herself.
He manipulated her arms, pulled it over her shoulders, then turned her to tie the three big bows on the front over her chest. When he finished, he scooped up her hand in his massive paw and pulled her through the doorway.
A transport waited outside for them with a man on each side, one obligingly holding the door open. Kane followed her in.
The interior was dark, as fine and fancy as everything she’d seen so far of this man and his home. From the layers of scent in the air, it smelled to her like Kane used it all the time.
It was the first transport Sasha had ever been in, reserved as they were for the rich and powerful. It was comfortable enough that a family of four would find it a nice living space where she came from.
At least it would if none of them were as big as Constantine Kane. He took up all the room, spreading out, filling the cab with his very presence. Though the seat they were on was clearly divided into sections, his arm touched her shoulder and his leg invaded her space to lean against hers.
Sasha pressed herself against the opposite side to get away from him, looking for a way to lower the window and let some air in so she could breathe. He was suffocating her in his scent.
"Can you open the windows?"
"Are you over-warm?"
"Just want some air on my face."
"Then no."
She breathed through her mouth. His smell rolled over her tongue, making her mouth water and her gums hurt. Pain surged in her head, sliding down her spine and spreading through her bones.
A wave of heat poured over her, hot and thick like boiled honey. Sasha didn't move, waiting for the unexplained sickness to go away.
"Sasha."
"What?"
"Look at me."
He had his closed, full self-control face on. No expression. No feeling. But now she knew he could feel. He had a whole range of feelings: impatience, anger, curiosity, pleasure.
She let her eyes pour over him, his hair, his face, his neck and shoulders—to pick out details to savor later. He was a remarkably masculine and handsome male.
As she looked at him full on and fearlessly for the first time, she saw another one of those expressions of anger start in his eyes and spread to his lips and cheeks. His nostrils flared, and he inhaled deeply. He leaned closer, sniffing.
She wanted to lean closer too.
"Fuck. Fuck no. I am going to kill Terasa. If you hadn't been in that fucking room…"
She flopped back away from him, fingers working at the bows he'd tied on the coat. She had no idea why he was cursing and making death threats. She wanted the coat off. Suddenly it was much too hot. She couldn't breathe. Her skin hurt. Her blood was boiling and her bones ached. She wanted the coat off, now.
Her hair was everywhere, sticking to her cheeks, tangled in her fingers, a maddening irritation. A feral growl escaped when the pretty blue bows became ugly knots that she couldn’t undo to save her life.
Gently nudging her fingers away, Kane said, "Stop, Beauty. Just relax. You're okay."
"I'm not okay. I can't breathe. I'm trapped in a net made of too much damn hair. This freaking torture-chamber coat you made me wear won't come off."
Kane rumbled.
"Don't laugh!"
"Let me help, then."
She huffed, her whole body jerking in frustration before she surrendered dramatically.
His help was efficient. "We are almost there,
Sasha. The doctor can give you medicine to help you feel better."
Feeling snappish, Sasha glared at the warlord alpha. "Can he give me a decent night's sleep?"
His cheeks reddened at that. Was he blushing? Could she use last night against this embarrassed alpha?
"That was a mistake, Sasha. Terasa will apologize to you and be punished for it." He said it with cool relish, as if he were savoring the taste of blood.
Being sick made Sasha lose all sense of self-preservation. It was the only thing that could explain her current boldness. "It's not her fault you came into the big room and used every female there but me, is it?"
"Did you want me to use you, little Beauty?" He drawled in an almost growl that reminded her of his sex voice.
She huffed at him, gripping the seat hard to keep herself from an irrational need to claw at his skin. "Fearing for my life, I had asked you to marry me a few hours earlier. Don't you think your answer was insulting?"
"I gave you no answer."
She felt her hackles rise like a ruffled chicken. What was wrong with her? The sight of him, the smell, overwhelmed Sasha. She had to look away from the massive, beautiful, primal male that he was.
"You are worse than Merrick. Five women. Hours and hours. I live with strippers and prostitutes because of Merrick, and he uses them. All. Day. Long. But never like that. What was that?"
There was a voice in the back of her head begging her to stop talking. Her mouth had taken over. It wasn’t the first time. Bad things had happened then too.
His eyes went cold. "Merrick is a posturing little boy. Did he touch you?"
That was what he was worried about? She got mouthy, and he got a sudden need to be alpha-possessive because of Merrick? The dense male had missed the point.
Sasha pulled her hair, combing fingers through it and separating it into three sections for a braid.
Yes, Merrick had touched her. He was the alpha in charge. Pinches on her bottom, the insides of her arms, wrapping her braid in his hands and using it to pull and drag her. The whipping. He was king in her home.
He'd not raped her, or even seen her fully naked since the day her mother brought him home and forced Sasha out of her clothes as an introduction to him, displaying Sasha's mark and worth. But he touched her every chance he got. Sometimes she had nightmares about him lurking in dark corners, waiting to claim her.