I couldn't stop shaking, even hours after leaving the Alpha's quarters. Every breath scraped against my throat like shards of glass, and my knees still ached from kneeling on the cold stone floor. His words—"you look like a wild flower by the roadside"—echoed inside my skull, over and over, until I wanted to tear them out with my own hands.
I didn't even know why those words scared me more than his silence, but they did. They felt too human. Too gentle. And coming from him the man everyone called the Psycho Alpha they were more terrifying than any punishment.
By the time I stumbled back into the omegas' quarters, the first morning rays were sneaking through the cracks in the shutters. The place smelled of soap and damp linen, and faint snores filled the narrow room. I stood there for a long time, unsure whether to wake anyone or just curl up on the floor and vanish into the cracks like a ghost.
