In the Alpha’s Arms

Things We Don’t Enjoy

The walk to the shower room was familiar. So was Ren at her back, nudging her forward, though he was a bit more gentle than he’d ever been before. She still didn’t know what to make of it. She hadn’t seen him since the pits and they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. So she didn’t ask what he thought about Chris being dead. Or why Maxim had yet to replace him.

The exhaustion she felt was familiar too, though now her legs shook. A week of torture would do that to a person, even a strong one. Though, all things considered she hadn’t been tortured much. More than once over the course of her stay, her mind imagined knives and pliers inflicting pain. She imagined ropes and gags and her own screams… her own blood dripping to the floor… but that hadn’t happened. Instead Maxim had chosen torture through deprivation. Mild, all thing considered but it wasn’t something to scoff at either. Barely any edible food. Barely any rest. Barely any hygiene. No sunlight. No fresh air. No communication. Deprivation was its own brand of awful.

Lita rubbed at the chafed, swollen skin of her wrists as if it would undo the stinging, heavy sensations of cuffs. She’d worn them for a week, nearly going crazy with pain from pulling at them. Then anger as they didn’t break, didn’t weaken, and continued to clink against her to the damn cell wall. And then, poof, without warning Maxim had waltzed in and ordered them removed. As if her life were simply a measure of his desires and orders. As if what happened to her and why, was solely in his control, solely in his power. Which, technically, it was. And she hated it.

She had known killing Chris would rain down Maxim’s wrath. But she also knew it had to be done. And she’d wanted to be the one to do it.

Damn straight, Nyx growled.

When Ren uncuffed her from the wall, the sudden lightness was disarming. Those metal bracelets had hung on her like anchors, heavy, painful reminders of her captivity and at whose mercy she existed. It was sickening. Almost as sickening as the sudden weightlessness she now felt as her steps echoed along the corridor. The air wasn’t fresh but it was fresher than it had been in her cell. There wasn’t any sunlight but there was more overhead light than she had seen in a week. Lita was still exhausted and lightheaded but at least she was standing. All of those things were were marked improvements in her condition.

She hated that she felt grateful for those things, that she was happy to be free. She hated that her mind was already prepared to do anything to spare her from going back in that cell. As if her freedom was something she needed to fight for. As if it wasn’t a right.

Maxim was probably enjoying the fact that she owed her relief to him. Probably sitting in his stuffy fireplace chair, toasting to his ability to make her hurt. But if he thought that would make her forget that she owed her discomfort to him as well, he was sorely mistaken. Chris had tried to make her hurt. And look what happened to him. Maxim would be no different. Heat and anger pounded her chest, relentless in its desire to tear this whole place down around him.

Her steps faltered hard after the first turn of the hallway. What had been strong, if not slow steps had grown clumsy and ill–measured. Ren was a constant presence at her back, doing his best not to shove her forward, which was oddly thoughtful of him. Especially since she’d probably land face first on a hard ground. Chris would have loved that. And it made her even happier to have ripped his throat out.

She didn’t trust Ren. But he was always the better of the two. And he’d fought alongside her. That had to be worth something. That had to give them at least a little comradery. Perhaps that was why he didn’t shove her.

And they were ascending she realized, as if it was a back passageway leading back up to the main floor. But why? For a heartbeat, she worried Maxim intended for her to bathe somewhere more public than the shower room and god

grabbed her elbow before she could fall. She stifled the urge to say thank you because he was still the enemy. And

led to a bathing chamber. Not a shower room, but a room made with a large bath in the center and nothing else. The tub was large, wide enough to fit two or three people and made of stainless steel. There were drains placed all around it and Lita had

arms turned to gooseflesh. What was that big tub used for?

filthiness was driving her insane. The tub wasn’t fancy or anything, no more than a utilitarian metal basic

for a week but she’d hardly eaten in

Things We Don’t Enjoy

what he had to do but he sure as shit wasn’t going to make the same mistake as Chris. He wasn’t going to defy orders or put his own neck on the chopping block. And he knew that she was dangerous now. She could see the way his mental gears moved the longer he stared at her. Perhaps he was wondering how he hadn’t noticed

knew she wasn’t strong enough to do it alone. Maxim had ordered it and Ren was going to make sure it was done. If she couldn’t do it herself, he would do it for

covered in vomit and remnants of piss and foul smelling dampness that was likely a mix of body sweat and blood. She was past needing to bathe. Past needing to clean her wounds, a collection of scrapes she’d gotten while fighting in the

a week, her immune system was likely running on fumes. So she let him lift the shirt, sucking her arms in through the sleeves until he could pull it over her

shirt into a bin clearly marked for trash. Because what the hell did she have to be ashamed about? She didn’t chain herself to a concrete wall with barely enough room to make it to the toilet hole. She didn’t ensure that her hygiene needs hadn’t been met. So whatever Ren thought

hips, she twitched. She couldn’t help it. There was something so fundamentally wrong about another man seeing her naked. It wasn’t fear, like it had always been with Brian. But respect. She respected Cole and their bond. She didn’t want to do anything to sully it. But she didn’t really have a choice. She didn’t want to feel Ren’s fingers. But they were there. Lita watched him sweep his gaze from the

his eyes, “For what it’s worth, I don’t enjoy doing this any more than enjoy it being

almost laughed. Almost. Because she thought he was saying he didn’t enjoy helping her bathe, didn’t enjoy touching her filth. But

feel uncomfortable and I definitely don’t enjoy being forced to strip you

Lita stopped breathing.

but ate her own air as she looked for the game, the moment he would do something awful because she’d shown weakness. She wanted to prepare for that. But

Lita relaxed as he resumed removing her pants, managing only to wiggle her hips enough for him to get them off. He stood and tossed