The Alpha Assassin novel Chapter 8

I made a detour through the kitchen, the best source of news. The omegas rarely noticed me anymore. I busied myself, getting a glass of water and fanning my face in case anyone looked my way.

“There are some cute ones out there.”

“None that are my taste; when it comes to warriors, they’re all the same,”

“Why are they all still outside? It seems so dumb to keep them in that tent instead of going to their rooms.”

“I heard it was so the sons could inspect them.”

“Like cattle.”

“I guess warriors are no better than omegas,” A few of them laughed.

“Not tonight, they aren’t.”

I slipped out, no one noticing. I grabbed a cloth and scissors. I went into the hall and almost bumped into him.

“There you are.” He tilted his head, crooning.

I looked down and shifted from foot to foot. I couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad development.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch,” he spat, and I looked up, blinking a few times. “You turned out to be quite pretty, you know?” he said, and the compliment from him felt sour. “Still mute?” He barked a laugh.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your mate?” I asked him, fishing for information, “Tending to her bruises?”

His face twitched into a wide smile. “She doesn’t obey,” He tutted, reaching out his hand toward my face.

I swatted it away before I could think he would be gone soon, and he didn’t seem like the type to mention anything I might have said or done. If everything went to my makeshift plan, he wouldn’t have much time to tell them anyway. I smiled at that thought.

“Finally got a backbone, I see.” He reached out to me again.

I grabbed his hand, squeezing it in a way I knew would hurt. Confusion flashed across his face before he narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand from mine.

“Don’t touch me,” I said every word slowly.

“I will.” He smiled, and it turned my stomach. “It seems they have been too soft on you. I’m going to take pleasure in breaking you. It’s not fun when they’re already broken.” He frowned, seeming genuinely sad.

Sadistic fuck.

I tried to brush past him, I had a lot to do and couldn’t let my mask slip as much as I wanted to. Not yet.

He grabbed my arm, squeezing hard. “I know where you stay, bitch.” He threatened.

“I’ll be waiting.” I gave him a sweet smile pulling myself from him.

Every step away from him felt heavy. I wanted to turn around, tell him how much of a piece of shit he was, break his finger, something.

I hated what I was forced to become, but I would have my conversation with him later, and if I didn’t, if he was gone before then, well, I would have to come to terms with that.

I slipped out a back door. Booming laughter and chatter filled the air. It was stifling; it permeated the air in a way only men that were overconfident in their positions could.

I hated it.

I slipped into the shadows, giving the bright tent a wide berth. It was only covered on top, and I couldn’t be seen out here; I had no plausible alibi.

It took me almost twice as long to get there since I had to stick to the shadows. I hated every extra step.

Finally, I was on my way back. I needed to trim the fireheart anyways; it was growing so fast someone would surely notice it, and I had a feeling I would need it again soon.

“You bitch,” I froze when I heard Dalton’s voice.

How did he spot me so far away? Even with his wolf, I thought I was well hidden. I turned around, letting out a sigh of relief, seeing he wasn’t talking to me, wasn’t even looking in my direction.

Dalton sat at the edge of the illuminated tent; the soft glow illuminated him and a sopping-wet blonde omega. Dalton laughed as Tia wiped away the wine he threw on her with her sleeve. Dalton’s mate looked down at her feet, but I couldn’t fault her for her reaction.

A new plan formed, I didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth the experiment. I slipped through the door of the winding staircase to my room. I had about twenty minutes before it would be ruined.

I took a studying breath to calm my shaking hands. The adrenaline coursed through me again as I took out my supplies and the jar of sad, wilted leafs.

On the skin, it would be fine for a few minutes -I hoped. I would risk the reaction on my skin; I just didn’t know how I could hide the rash or welts that would surly form.

That was a problem for tomorrow, even though I knew I should plan for that, I didn’t have the time. I would figure it out later.

I slung on a shawl and hid the jar, taking the stairs closer to the kitchen this time and waiting. I hoped I wasn’t too late, but there would be other chances.

I waited for a few long minutes. I would have to move eventually; someone might notice me missing. I sighed and started to head to my room, calculating a new plan.

Soft feet shuffled behind me, and I turned slowly.

“Oh,” Tia said as rounded the corner and saw me. Her eyes were red and puffy; she reeked of wine.

“Tia.” I took a step back. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“A warrior didn’t like his wine, or it was too warm, I’m not sure.” She shook her head, frowning. “He threw it on me; you know it's fine-” She looked away.

“No, it's not.” I took a step towards her. “Do you want me to bring that out for you?” I motioned to the bottle of wine and glass she was holding, praying she would say no.

“No.” She shook her head. “He said I had to do it myself.”

That was exactly what I wanted to hear. I dipped my finger in the hidden jar and closed the space between us, squeezing her wrist as gently as I could without spilling anything under my shawl. I hoped it came off as an affectionate gesture.

“It will be okay,” I said gently.

She looked up at me with wide eyes but set her jaw in determination.

“You’re right. The night is almost over.” She said with something that might have been resolve in her usually shy voice. “I better get going,”