The Alpha's Woman

by Carolyn Faulkner

  Not even one of Hinda's wonderful hugs had jarred her out of her stupor.

  "Are you unhappy, Emmy?" she asked, sounding very concerned.

  "No," Emily answered, not meeting the other woman's eyes, and it was the truth. She had moved well beyond that.

  Vaudt had sighed heavily at that.

  "Can I go back to bed now?" she had asked after spending about a half-hour with their – his – guest.

  Vaudt couldn't find a reason to tell her no, so she climbed into bed, scrubs and all, to huddle under the covers.

  She could hear them whispering and knew they were talking about her. She heard Hinda say something about making sure he took anything out of the room that was sharp or that she could use as a rope, and she almost laughed. They were worried about her being suicidal.

  How could they not realize that would take way more effort than she was willing to expend at this point? Even blissful oblivion was beyond her at this point.

  Emmy didn't know if it was a last resort or what, but eventually, even Racide found his way there. And again, she sat dutifully before the two of them. Vaudt made her coffee, and she drank it. There were even cookies – Oreos, she noted dully, which she'd once told him had been her favorite – on a plate on the table, but no one touched them, least of all her.

  It was the same as it had been when Hinda was there – with the two of them looking at her as if she was a puzzle they had to solve, when they both knew they had the solution she desired within their realm and refused to use it.

  That was, until his older brother went to the bathroom, and Racide leaned over to hiss at her, "You have got to snap out of this. You're going to lose your mind if you keep this up."

  Emily gave him a benign smile but said nothing.

  "Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't like the look of it – of you. You were such a vibrant woman when I met you. You challenged my brother, and he needs that. Now he's done something that's turned you into some kind of a doormat, and I can't stand it."

  Nothing. She wasn't going to bother to give him a list of the wrongs his brother had committed against her. It wouldn't have made any difference if she had.

  After a long moment of silently contemplating her, Racide sighed.

  Then, although she wasn't looking at him, she felt him reach across the table and slip something into the pocket of her scrubs, saying in a hushed tone, "I'm going to take him away from here, so that you can read that note in relative safety. Even just the act of giving it to you puts my life in grave danger, so destroy it, please, once you've read it. I wouldn't have given it to you unless I was certain, but I think it's the right solution – the only solution – for you."

  Vaudt appeared at that moment, and Racide stood, which prompted Emily to do the same, even though he addressed his big brother. "I'd like you to take a look at something I found on our last raid that I haven't had the time to show you yet. It might be a help to our energy situation."

  The older man glanced at his brother, but came to stand in front of Emily, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I don't think I should leave her when she's in this state."

  Racide shrugged as if he didn't care whether his brother came with him or not, but reminded him, "You've not hesitated to go anywhere before. And you have to leave her sometime." He smiled. "She's less likely to get herself in trouble this way, I'd bet."

  Vaudt gave him a sharp look, and then returned his attention to Emily.

  So he headed for the door, saying casually, "Well, when you want to see it, let me know."

  "No, wait," Vaudt called after a slight pause. "I'll go."

  Emily sat down again, not looking at Vaudt. In fact, Racide had noticed that she hadn't looked at either of them – not once since he'd been there.

  She was in such a black funk that, even when the men had gone, it took her nearly half an hour to fish in her pocket for the note he had given her, not believing that it was going to make one bit of difference to her plight.

  Until she read it.

  It said, shortly and succinctly, three words that made her beleaguered heart soar, "Escape is possible."

  For the longest time, as those words sunk slowly in, she simply sat there, staring at it. Eventually ripping it into lots of tiny pieces and flushing it away – multiple times, even though she could no longer see any bits of it floating in the bowl – before climbing back into bed and surrendering to the blissful oblivion of sleep. She was too deeply depressed to spend much time even contemplating the possibility of her own freedom when it was dangled before her.

  Because she knew Vaudt.

  It could be a trap, a trick to get her to expose herself. She no longer had the protection of him wanting to treat her carefully since he knew she wasn't carrying his child. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to punish her severely if he found out that she was planning an escape.

  And the spankings were bad enough – she wasn't much interested in seeing how a severe punishment from him – for her – might manifest itself.

  And she didn't want to think of what he might do to Racide.

  So she did the only thing she could do in that state.

  At first, for a short while, she slept the sleep of one who had nothing left to gamble – not even feeling that it would be worth it to her to attempt to leave him and make something – anything – of her life other than this.

  Visitors became more regular for them than they ever had been, and she knew that – at least his mother – had earned the honor of holding a key of her own to his room. She didn't know who might have suggested to him that socialization would be good for her, but whoever it was, he was taking it to heart when she knew he much preferred to be a hermit. Hinda, Anja – even Racide – were at the room fairly frequently, not that it seemed to do her any good in any way at all.

  He had taken to bringing Racide to see him when they had come back from a battle or a raid, so that they could discuss strategy. It sounded to her as if they didn't fight together, but rather had separate raiding and fighting parties.

  Vaudt led the fighting. Racide, who was smaller and smarter, led the raids.

  She was required to meet with him and sit at the table for what Vaudt deemed to be an acceptable time whenever they had a guest, but then he eventually dismissed her so that she was able to go back to bed.

  Each time he left Racide alone with her – even though he was risking his life even more so to do it than when he'd given her the note – he had always come to sit on the bed next to her, whispering words of encouragement about what sounded like the possibility of getting away from his brother.

  Eventually, through the repetition of his dangerous attempts to convince her that he was on the level, Racide had to gage perfectly when to leave her side and return to his seat before his brother noticed that he had so much as gotten up, much less gone to sit on the bed with her. From his tone or from the slow reawakening of her will to live, she began to listen to him. And more than that, to believe in him, discharging her concern that he might be acting as Vaudt's agent in order to catch her trying to escape him.

  Their times together were necessarily short – Vaudt was usually just going to get something or using the facilities – but he packed a lot of information into a few words, and despite their brevity, Emmy learned a lot about Vaudt's brother.

  Despite his older brother's great victories, it was Racide who had seen more of what remained of this world, having gone off exploring – against their dying father's wishes – while Vaudt had stayed behind to take care of their people. Because of those travels as a youth, he knew a place where Emily would be safe.

  If she could get him to take her to the library, they could meet there. His mother wouldn't be exactly helpful – she wanted grandchildren – but she could see how miserable Emily had become and wanted to do what she could to help her.

  She'd done it before – helped an Omega get away from a very bad situation – at great risk to her own life, knowing, as Racide did, that if Vaudt f
ound out, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her – publically, and painfully, even if the female was someone he didn't know.

  Yet the both of them were willing to help her, despite the incredible danger they'd be putting themselves in.

  Of anything that had happened since she'd shut herself down, that reached her – touched her – the most – that two people who were, essentially, total strangers, would be willing to put their lives on the line to help her.

  Perhaps this world was redeemable in some ways – or at least some of its inhabitants were, even if others weren't.

  And so she began to allow herself to plan, to think, to feel again – if only in very specific ways. She still remained shut off to Vaudt, despite his ever-increasing attempts to shake her out of her depression. She noted that those attempts did not extend to not fucking her whenever he got the chance. In fact, he seemed to think that her state required even more intimacy. Not realizing that each time he raped her, each time he reduced her to howling beneath him in ecstasy, even each time he held her tenderly afterwards, he was driving her further and further away from him, making her want what Racide was offering just that much more.

  Each time, when he finally stopped fondling her – however pseudo lovingly – and let her go back to sleep, she thanked whatever gods that were still around for having found those birth control pills.

  Her mind was now occupied with scheming, preparing, and planning – with Racide as much as they were able – for the day when she was going to show Vaudt a carefully thought out sign that she might be on the road to recovery. And when that day came, she had to grip herself tightly so as not to appear nervous. It was imperative that he didn't think that what she was going to do was an act of deceit.

  But Emmy knew that he desperately wanted her to return to the way she had been, and what she was going to do was prefaced on that fact. It was very subtle and quiet; there would be no fanfare. She wasn't about to try to show him that she was suddenly all better. She wasn't sure how much he knew about depression – she doubted that it was very much, but still. She wasn't going to take any chances. Emily was acutely aware that there were other lives at stake besides her own.

  So, one afternoon, while he was sitting at the table planning and plotting his own things with Racide, and she was lying on the bed, as had become her habit, she very casually reached for the first book on the top of the pile of those that he'd brought to her from the stacks he had created at his mother's.

  In fact, he had become so fervent about wanting to make her happy again, that nearly all of the ones she had selected had magically appeared in the room, although she had made no motion towards them whatsoever.

  Until now.

  She didn't try to be either loud or quiet in doing so. She simply took the book and flipped to the beginning – this one was Charlotte's Web, because she'd begun in the young adult's section that day – and began to read.

  He had noticed. He'd always noticed everything about her, but he'd become even more attuned to her during this bout with depression. She knew that he had seen her reach for and begin to read the book. He had gone quiet – and so had his brother – and she knew they were exchanging meaningful – and probably triumphant – looks.

  There would be no time to talk to his brother today, but that was okay.

  Everything was – slowly – falling into place.

  Hopefully, within the next month or so, if Racide could get everything arranged, she would leave this place – and Vaudt – for a shot at a better future.

  Chapter 9

  When it came down to it, she received help from a very unexpected quarter.

  Racide had decided that he needed to talk to everyone who would be involved – at least on this end – in Emmy's escape all at once, to make certain that they were coordinating things correctly. This was going to be a very tightly choreographed dance, this escape, and none of them could afford to get the slightest thing wrong.

  Somehow, he managed to get her to the library without Vaudt knowing. Since he was gone, she assumed it involved Racide not going with a raiding party. They were usually gone at the same time. His second-in-command usually took over the running of the place for him when he left.

  And Racide was definitely not his second-in-command.

  But Emmy didn't really care how he did it. She only cared that they were all there and they could get on with it. The closer it got to becoming a reality, the antsier she got, wanting to, finally, be free again.

  If what Racide had said was true, and she was pretty sure it was.

  When she walked into the library, pushing the voluminous hood back as she did, the first people she saw were the doctors, who all turned to glare at her, as they always did. They would definitely be happy to have her gone.

  And as soon as she thought about it, as much as she would hate having to rely on them, she realized that they were the only solution.

  Favus went so far as to come over and confront her.

  "You are a very unnatural Omega, and an even more unnatural female," he informed her disdainfully. "Our Lord, the Tarq, Vaudt the Second, Undefeated may he always be, will be well rid of you."

  There were murmurs of agreement from the others of his ilk.

  "Likewise, I'm sure."

  "I, for one, find you wonderfully strong and feminine – I firmly believe that those two qualities were never meant to be mutually exclusive," Hinda said quietly from behind her.

  Emmy turned to face the woman she had become friends with instantly when they'd bonded over her books, hesitating, biting her lip, knowing she should not expect a hug.

  And yet she got one – the warmest, most loving one yet.

  "I am so sorry my son has made you so unhappy. I am honored to play a small part in – hopefully – getting you to a place where you will have more freedom."

  "I'm sorry I won't be providing you with the grandchildren you want," she replied, and she meant it, on some level, anyway. On impulse, Emily asked, "Will you not come with us?"

  Hinda smiled, cupping her cheek in a way that reminded Emmy of Vaudt, somehow. "I'm touched that you would want me to, but no. I am too old to make the journey, or to change my ways. I wasn't raised the way you were, to expect to be allowed to be so independent, to make my own choices. Besides, I have my sons to look after."

  No one brought up the fact that there was an extremely good chance that she might lose one, the other, or even both, if this plan failed.

  They met for as long as they dared, firming up plans and stories and the timing of events, until everyone seemed to have it down pat.

  They decided that they would pull off this daring plot within the next few days. It all had to be a bit more fluid than they would have liked, but none of them had any control over when or where Vaudt might decide to go into battle and that was the crux of the whole situation. He needed to be gone for a good long while in order to get her as far away from him as possible while he was away.

  By the time he returned, she would be well on her way to her new home, well beyond his considerable reach.

  As that day drew nearer, Emmy was having a hard time not appearing incredibly nervous. Luckily, the man who was closest to her seemed to attribute that to a part of her recovery and didn't seem in the least suspicious about her behavior. He was just happy that she was – slowly – becoming more like her previous self, and he was doing his best to be patient with her, when, in actuality, his small stores of that quality had long since been exhausted.

  The morning of her escape, which would take place that night, dawned – as always – hot and bright. Emily forced herself to remain as calm as she could, but she was a terrible actress.

  She had laid some more groundwork the night before, hoping that might give her some cover.

  And it had.

  Knowing it was to be her last night with him, she had dropped the veil of indifference she had shown him for so long, jettisoning even some of her anger towards him in favor of lulling him into a false sense of
security. She allowed him to think that this might be the start of her true return to him, of her acceptance of her place in this world – in his life.

  She touched him again – voluntarily – for the first time in a long while, and she was horrified to feel her heart clench at the way his eyes lit up when she reached up to trace his lips with her fingertip.

  Just that – not much more – but it was all he needed.

  He gifted her with one of those beautiful smiles of his, but although she recognized it for its rarity, it wasn't nearly enough.

  Nothing would be enough to make up for what he'd put her through.

  But those thoughts were not conducive to her goal, so she'd carefully banked the fires of her anger at him and smiled, hesitantly, up at him.

  And he had made it just that much harder, from that point on, because he was so elated by the change in her that he pulled out every stop. He used every trick he knew to coax every last bit of bliss from her body – a body she'd had to open to him completely in order to capture him – if temporarily – just as firmly as he was trying to bind her to him.

  He very nearly succeeded in causing her to lose herself to him completely, but she kept a small kernel of hatred – pure and simple – of him alive in her heart, even when she could feel herself being subjected to the absolute perfection of their physical union.

  And it was enough to keep her grounded, to keep her separate from him, even as the waves of ecstasy nearly knocked her to her knees.

  It was her lifeline. Her sanity. Her savior.

  That next morning began as they always did, and she was allowing him to see her recovered enough that she joined him for breakfast, although she didn't eat very much, and he commented on it, reminding her that she would need all of her strength if she was to carry and bear his child.

  She smiled – almost shyly – at him, watching him eat up her performance like the stew Anja brought them for dinner that evening.

  He was going to be leaving soon and she knew it – she was counting on it. Somewhere along the line, he had become a bit less secretive about his doings than he ever had been with her and had begun keeping her better informed about when he was likely to be there. This had helped them immeasurably in their plotting, along with all of the information along those lines that Racide could call up, which was even more accurate since he was a part of Vaudt's inner circle.