by Aya DeAniege
“You want women to stand for themselves, do you?”
“We do. Alphas have always wanted that. That’s why we tried to bring the females back, and now? Seeing you and Rachel and what you can be? We’ve realized it wasn’t a female Alpha we were craving.”
“I am a woman. And I want my god damned fucking children. Pick up the phone and make the call.”
“It would weaken the stance, how about that?” Blane asked. “Removing Rachel’s nephews shows clear favoritism on the part of family. A favoritism which no Alpha can afford to have. By doing that with a young Alpha, you drive into his mind that he’s a special little butterfly and can do no wrong. Then you end up with one like Owen. All of those children know that they are being judged and that they could be culled.”
“Then tell me.”
Blane looked annoyed.
“I’m not an Alpha, Blane,” I said desperately. “I’m a broken woman who discovered she had children, only to be told they were going to be murdered.”
“I said there was a possibility of them being culled.”
“Which is telling me that they are going to be murdered.”
“No, it’s not,” he said.
“You’ve never had children, have you?” I asked. “You weren’t actually involved in Morgan’s raising at all. He’s just another Alpha to you. One you probably watched grow up and, well, had your cock in his mouth at some point.”
“Never, that was a promise I made his father.”
“Yes, so, you don’t know.”
He looked annoyed, but only for a moment.
“You think that I’m making the wrong choice because I was never a father, and don’t know the experience. That is something that I can understand, but I will not bend. The traditions of raising an Alpha are traditions for a reason. My own father once stabbed me for using drugs. It taught me a lesson. For normal people, that would be complete insanity, a very good reason to call child services. For us, it’s like teaching them to tie their shoes.”
“I am not an Alpha, damn it.”
“Morgan hasn’t reviewed your boys to do more than attempt to identify them.”
“Owen was desperate for Rachel.”
Blane considered that bit of information, then nodded.
“He was a bad man, but he seems to have known a thing or two about breeding capabilities of women. He wanted every woman in your family, even tried your mother. With others, it’s just them from their families and he hunted them for a while before grabbing them.”
“Yeah, so that says?”
“Nothing. Owen may know about breeding capabilities, but his own genetics were pretty poor. He registered three children. None of them were yours. So far, only those three are Alphas.”
“You are so far removed from normal. You know that right?” I demanded.
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“If I was your mother and I said this to you, what would you say?”
“My mother died when I was young,” Blane said. “I wouldn’t know what I would say to her.”
“What would you want to say to her?” I asked.
There was a thinking sort of silence. The heaviness of a man who was keeping things together when he just wanted to break down.
Alphas didn’t like showing weakness, and the higher up the food chain one got, the more fragile their world became. A tear at the wrong moment, hesitance when they had to act, it was all viewed as a weakness even if there was none.
“They’re your children, they aren’t going to be a part of the cull, but those words cannot leave this room. Rachel was right. The Alphas in the area are holding their breath. Half are praying that your boys are Alphas, the other half that they’re A level companions. Which I keep telling them is stupid because it’ll be twenty years before they might be available for anything and then the Alphas would be too old and history tells us you’d actually be in your prime.”
“What?”
“Oh, the one record of your kind of mutation we have is from, I believe, your biological unit, as Rachel is calling her. A Mother who stopped a war with her own death. She was about fifty or so, we think. Piecing things together, of course, but let’s just say she’s impressive.”
“Okay,” I said.
“There’s no relief in you, and that concerns me.”
“There’s no relief, because there’s something else you’d want to tell your mother.”
Blane looked away and down. His eyes closed and he was silent as I watched him.
Something is clearly bothering him.
I didn’t understand why everyone around him was ignoring the fragility.
“What happened?” I asked.
“He died,” Blane said, then shook his head.
He didn’t want to talk about it, which made me want to drive it out even more. A feeling like that was like a boil that had to be lanced before it exploded, or before the puss worked its way deeper and ate away at the body more.
“Alex,” I said. “Or your father?”
“My father, that was… it was unfortunate how he died, but I dealt with it.”
“It’s Alex,” I said. “Alphas lose companions. For one so based in tradition, you’re carrying one hell of a torch for a passed companion. There is the mourning period for a reason. After that, you’re supposed to move on, that’s your tradition. That’s your law.”
“Because when we find a companion who isn’t just a warm body, we obsess, and it consumes us, I know,” Blane said, his voice seeming to crack at the end.
“Then why is Alex’s death still so heavy on you? You have a companion still, you’re planning to breed. Your household is growing and profiting. You are the word thingy of all Alphas.”
“Envy is the word you are looking for, and I know.”
“But you’d trade it all in for him.”
“I would. Not Matt, but all the rest? In a heartbeat. I’d live in a box on the road somewhere. Whatever it took.”
“Why?” I asked. “I know Alex was special when it came to companions. An A level companion who made a full Alpha? He was a prize.”
“He wasn’t a prize. My father might have bought him, but he wasn’t just an object. He gifted me his attention, everything I became was because of him, even bringing Matt home was Alex. Morgan? Alex.”
“So, you were outshone by a companion.”
“I don’t see it as that.”
I sighed out. “Blane. Get to the point you’re trying to avoid.”
“I killed him.”
“Rachel just said—and an Alpha does that as a mercy for a companion.”
“Not. Not like that. I was the one who broke him. Everything he became was on me. His weak moments, his crying fits, the months he wouldn’t get out of bed because he couldn’t face the world we had accidentally created. That was all on me. Even his strength and resilience, his being an Alpha sometimes. That was because of me.”
“I can’t seem to recall how he died,” I said.
“Because we never released the how,” Blane said. “His heart stopped. Just stopped. No heart attack, not aneurism, his heart just stopped beating and wouldn’t start up again.”
“And you think it’s your fault?”
It sounded like the sort of medical mystery that Blane should have been all over. A heart didn’t just stop without damage.
“Being a proto-Alpha shortens the lifespan by over half. The average human body isn’t meant to sustain that sort of action, not even temporarily. It’s my fault he’s dead. I’m the one who broke him. I’m the one who killed him.”
“You didn’t kill him.”
“I did that to him.”
I really wanted to call him an idiot, but somehow felt that it wouldn’t help Blane any. It might have made him shut down completely and never tell anyone else. But that instability I saw in him would get worse over time.
Not certain what else I could do, I approached Blane slowly and held out my arms. He closed the distance between us an
d slipped into my arms. I hugged him as his shoulders shook. Shushed him gently when he sobbed.
Just because Alphas didn’t like showing emotions, didn’t mean that those emotions weren’t there. They were, and for them, it was a serious threat. They didn’t know who they could trust with that emotion, because among the populace, men couldn’t cry.
That was regular men. Regular men were taught that it was better to fall on their sword, than to show weakness. And the Alphas? Well, they were held to a higher standard than regular men.
At some point, Blane’s tears slowed. I patted his back gently, then hugged him tight again. As he pulled away, I smiled at him and patted his shoulder.
“Not in public, but here? In private?” I said. “You’ll call me Mother, okay?”
“Okay,” he said weakly.
And that was how someone negotiated with an Alpha. A give and take, and a secret that I would take to my grave. I just hoped that it wasn’t too late and the damage to Blane would begin to heal over time.
“I want a report on my brother. I want Abraham kneeling in apology, and… I’d very much like Gerrid kneeling in another capacity. Can you do that?”
“I don’t even have to call in any favours or throw someone around.”
“I wasn’t hoping you would,” I said. “But that’s what I want. And Owen dead.”
“That one’s more complicated.”
“I’ve been told. Suppose for now, I’ll just have to settle for him being broken and the footstool for my sister.”
“She won’t use him as a footstool, she doesn’t like the idea of even touching him.”
“What are the chances of her coming around to loving him?”
“High. Paul broke a bad Alpha as example. Did things worse than Owen, because it was easier to get away with back then. Even he came around. I do fully believe that Rachel could come around, if Owen continues to live. We all do, it’s in our nature.”
“I want him dead before that. Can you make that happen?”
Blane considered me for a moment. “I want him dead as well.”
“I’ll take that as meaning you’ll do what you can. Oh, my, uh…” I motioned downward. “You know. Owen probably didn’t take us to a hospital.”
Blane looked confused, then looked down. As it dawned on him where I motioned and what I meant, his eyes went wide and his mouth opened in shock. He looked up at me and seemed to shudder.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m okay with the rest, but I’m not certain how well that all works and I’d like you to make certain it works.”
“With sex?” he asked, his voice going a little higher.
“No. With tests and stuff. Don’t you have a magic little machine that can scan everything and tell you what’s broken?”
“Oh, oh, right, of course. I have been working on something for women who have given birth, they keep asking for it. Tears and the like, but my stuff gets rid of all damage at certain doses so I’ve been playing with something. It takes some dabbling for the dose to keep the scarring for Alphas, but most women who have complaints already have scarring and that’s causing the problem. I could just give you the dose until the scar tissue goes away.
“Can I experiment on you? Please say I can experiment on you.”
“Maybe a little.”
Chapter Four
I left Blane’s lab several hours later with a slight limp, and a burning sensation in several places from needles, but at least I had a full belly and he had talked himself out of several experiments because, and I quote:
“You don’t ask a woman if you can do that before the first date.”
He had requested bone marrow and I had said yes. I wasn’t entirely certain why, but there was just such a boyish delight to his reaction that warmed me to my soul. He took a great many samples from me, to compare to some from Rachel, but she hadn’t agreed to the bone marrow.
Possibly because she knew it involved a giant freaking needle, which he didn’t mention to me at all. He simply retrieved said needle. By the time I saw the needle, it was too late to back out.
Don’t worry, though, he has something that could numb a bone biopsy. That he made for someone, was all he said. Something he wouldn’t share around because someone had said something stupid. I kept my mouth shut on that point, someone else could sort that out. I’d just call and whine if I ever had to have another of those done.
I wasn’t any worse for wear, because he had fixed the damage he caused, but I was feeling it still. The body remembered the damage, was how he put it. It was healed, but my body was pretty certain I should be screaming in agony, and so it simulated the pain. If I woke up the next morning with the same pain, then we’d have to worry.
There were side effects to everything, I supposed.
I found Rachel waiting outside the lab the moment I walked out. She had changed out of her workout clothing, into jeans and a cotton t-shirt with a bra that actually fit her.
Someone had talked her into a properly fitting bra, which made her look as large as I felt without one.
“I’m upset with you,” I said sternly.
Rather than asking where I could get a bra. The Alphas wouldn’t think of it, they were probably trying to come up with a way to break the air conditioner.
“At this point, normally one of the companions comes to talk to you. But there are only two currently in the estate. One is pissed because you took his man love, the other may be upset because an anniversary is coming up and he’s a little surprised Blane hasn’t joined him.”
“Why would a companion be here?”
“Because it’s the closest they could come to dealing with us,” Rachel said with a shrug. “I’m taking you to your room, which is by my rooms but not my rooms. Mine are a set, I just found that out this morning. I thought it was more like a bachelor apartment.
“Now, Blane has granted us certain permissions, but if we were visiting Alphas our doors would be open and he’d be allowed to literally walk in and piss on our beds. It’s a whole dynamic thing.”
“Rachel.”
“I know, I’m boring you, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m going to show you the way and then from there we can decide what to do. Okay? So… what would you like to do? Go get clothing, or food, or we can just go out and relax. You could try wine. Wine would be great, right?”
“Are we certain I’m not pregnant now?” I asked.
“Blane checked you over in there. If you were, he definitely would have said something,” she said slowly. “It just occurred to me that we’re living in the house of a mad scientist. Though, once he came to his senses, he was pretty determined to get consent from you on anything he did so that he didn’t add to, you know, your whole trauma.”
“That was kind of him.”
Suddenly it was a reoccurring theme to the Alphas. Seeking consent for everything they did, anytime they touched me. As if they were afraid I’d break if they didn’t have my permission.
Or, perhaps, they were afraid of what Rachel would do to them for such an action.
“It was. What would you like to do?”
“I’d really like a cock in my mouth,” I said.
Rachel fell back as I continued to walk forward. I sighed and stopped, turning to her as she went bright red. She was sort of staring through me instead of meeting my eyes.
I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, certainly not like that. Talk of cocks was not normal, public conversation. That was the sort of thing one talked about in private, or in code.
One certainly didn’t say that to their twin sister, who had only ever talked about sex to proudly boast that she was still a virgin.
However, having said the words, having them spill out of my mouth, I decided to go with it rather than apologize.
There had been plenty of times when Rachel had shocked me into silence with that mouth of hers. Why couldn’t I return the favour?
“Cock, mouth, can we please get moving so I can make that happen?” I asked.
/> “But, that’s how this all started,” Rachel said.
“No, rape and drugs is how this all happened,” I said. “I like sex. I’ve been having it since we were fifteen.”
Her mouth sort of worked, like she was trying to comprehend what I was saying. It occurred to me that for the first time in our lives, I had kept a secret from her. I had done it so well that she hadn’t known at all, not even a hint of it. She had thought I was a virgin.
But then, I thought she was lying when she said that she was still a virgin. I thought we were both lying, I thought that was a part of the joke.
“Rachel, having sex didn’t break me,” I said.
“I thought it did!” she shouted at me.
I bit my bottom lip as she seemed to fume. “You waited.”
“Of course, I waited!” she shouted. “Who wouldn’t wait after an example like that? I wasted years of my life not having sex because I thought sex would break me!”
“Now do you want a cock in your mouth?” I asked.
“Why, though?” she asked.
“For you, it’s something new. For me, I like giving oral. Know what he never wanted? Oral. Waste of seed or something.”
Might have also had something to do with biting. There were contraptions to prevent that, but I don’t think he knew about them, thank goodness. And no matter how far a woman was gone, she knew to bite when she wasn’t happy with a man.
“Are you remembering?”
As soon as I grasped the fact that I was caught up in a memory, it was slipping away again. Which was fine by me, I didn’t want to be in that specific moment.
I struggled to recall what I had said. When it finally came back to me, I huffed out.