Sentenced to The Ruthless Alpha

Chapter 16: Man in the River

Thora POV

Her heart hadn’t stopped beating since she left the alpha’s study. She didn’t stop or look back until she was inside the omega wing, and inside the storage/makeshift bedroom she slept in. Only then did she toss her mop stick and broom to the side, before crumpling to the floor.

“What the f**k, Thora?” She hummed, gasping for air. “What the hell was that?”

She smacked her face with both hands like a lunatic. “You can’t think of him like that. You absolutely need to get it together. You have to remember; you’re in enemy territory and he is their leader. You mean nothing to these creatures and they’ll claw your eyes out for entertainment in a heartbeat.”

She continued to pinch herself, smack her cheek, anything to juggle her memory that survival was the ultimate goal, and nothing else.

She couldn’t explain the stubborn urge she had felt a while ago to abandon her cleaning duty to find the alpha. Or why It had felt like her throat was clogged, and only cleared up when she stopped in front of his study.

Flashes of her last time there didn’t stop her, neither did Roman’s cold warning at the narrow, hidden passageway they had shared. Still, she had dared to open the door and when she saw his condition, her body reacted faster than her logical brain, rushing to catch a man twice her size.

And that wasn’t the worst part.

Maybe she could rationalize her actions by convincing her brain that going to the alpha’s study was an honest mistake, but how could she ever rationalize how badly she had wanted his lips to touch her neck?

She had literally set him down and hurried to get out of there because of the dirty thoughts that filled her head the longer their bodies were connected.

How could she ever rationalize lusting over her enemy?

The storage door flung open, startling her. Thora dabbed her sweaty forehead and leapt to her feet.

“I know I am on kitchen duty. I was just about to leave…”

“Don’t bother.” Cecily informed her. “The kitchen has enough hands. Go behind the main house and help clean the armory.”

“Okay.”

It was only when she approached the double doors that she wondered what kind of weapons werewolves relied on that weren’t invented by the humans they loathed so much.

The door groaned when she pushed it. Candles burned brightly on every window.

There were a large, long table at the middle. She traced her fingers over the wooden edge, then stopped to examine what was in front of her. Because she had seen these creatures in their natural state, she easily guessed what each weapon was as she lifted them.

The table featured reinforced, heavy metal muzzle spikes, possibly to help maximize the damage when biting into thick monster hides. There were also jaw extenders, claw and limb enhancements like brass knuckles and spiked elbow and knee guards, darts, spears, weighted tail collars that Thora imagined could turn a simple tail-whip into a devastating strike.

She moved along, skimming her hands over everything. She couldn’t help but be astounded.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Came an angry, booming voice.

She craned her neck to find Regan looking the most furious she’d ever seen him.

“I…uh, I was sent…I am here to clean…”

He closed the distance between them and dropped tethered harpoons with a heavy thump on the floor. In a swift move, he grabbed a fistful of her hair while she squirmed in pain.

“You have a knack for going to places you have no business being at, don’t you? Tell me, are you trying to spy on us? Attack us?”

“N-No.” She cried.

He tugged harder. “First, you smuggle a knife in here and now, you’re in the armory? Did you think I was bluffing when I warned you the last time?”

“I’m just here to clean, I promise!” Hard as she tried, she couldn’t do anything about his grip. Her scalp burned with pain.

“How stupid do you think I am? OMEGAS ARE FORBIDDEN IN THE ARMORY, MUCH LESS A HUMAN!” He let go so hard she crashed to the floor, grazing her elbows and knees. “Last chance, what are you doing here??”

Thora crawled away. “I’m not lying. Cecily said the kitchen didn’t need my help. She said I was required to come clean in here. I just got here but I wasn’t sure where to start.”

She hated how much her voice trembled, and the blurriness in her eyes when she looked up at him. Luckily, his eyes softened.

“You’re going to die sooner from your gullibility than your guts.” He took off the over the shoulder bag he wore and set it on the table.

“If the warriors hadn’t been out training, they would have already strung you up outside for possible treason.” He casually explained while searching the bag.

Thora slowly got on her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this place was off limits. The other omegas won’t include me in the general duty roster. I go where they tell me to go.” She tried to run off but he shot out a hand. There was a little bottle of ointment in it.

“Apply that generously on your bruises. Should be better by morning.”

Hesitantly, she took the ointment, then bolted out the door. As much as it infuriated her that Cecily set her up, she reined in her anger the entire day.

The next morning while she was on her way to Rhea’s room to know her duties, she noticed the hostile looks and murmurs swirling around her. A bunch of omegas were clustered around the general duty roster, pointing and whispering. They all turned when she approached. Rhea emerged, with arms akimbo.

“I don’t know what strings you pulled but you’re finally on the roaster.” Rolling her eyes, she deliberately bumped into Thora’s shoulder before walking away. The others followed like lap dogs.

Thora drew close and inspected the roster. Happy tears blurred her eyes when she realized that for three days in a week, she was to exclusively attend to Matilda without extra duties. Given the hellish round of chores she had been through, she couldn’t be happier.

At the last column of the roaster, there was a list of areas where omegas were banned to enter without express, written permission from high-ranking wolves. The alpha’s study, bedroom, armory, council meeting chambers etc. were some of them.

Speaking of pulling strings, Thora smiled knowing just the person behind hers.

***

She couldn’t stop thinking about Regan’s help all day, even while she diligently attended to Matilda. Thora had come to realize that Matilda could never be impressed by a human. Even when she prepped ingredients for herbal mixes before Matilda could ask, all she got in return was a grunt. Still, Thora happily did her work, leaving no room for the old lady to find faults.

She watched the sun. Somehow, she had learnt to tell the time just by looking at it, because most of the rooms in the main house hardly had clocks.

Before her wedding, she and all the other girls who auditioned were set up in a section of the mansion that was tastefully furnished as a modern home. Now, she understood that it was a perfect plan to dispel suspicions.

After her wedding to the alpha, she had since been to other sections of the house that were closed off to them earlier. She hadn’t seen anyone use the elevator since then. The werewolves preferred to rely on their strength, speed and other instincts.

Thora’s heart constantly dropped to her stomach when the younger kids would leap off balconies on the second floor only to land on the ground perfectly on all fours. It was difficult to adjust to seeing things like that, but she did.

It amazed her how much she was changing and adapting to things humans would pass out from.

Matilda didn't look up from her mortar when she spoke.

"Take that basket. Go into the forest, closer to the hills and get me Morveil. They’re dark purple leaves with silver veins running through the middle like someone drew them. You'll find them pressed low to the ground near the rocks. Don't pick the ones without the veins. Those are useless to me."

Thora eyed the basket, then the window where the sun was already beginning its descent. "It's almost sundown."

"I'm aware of what time it is." Matilda cut her off without inflection. "You'll be back before dark if you stop wasting time standing there."

Unwilling to upset her and get thrown our again, Thora picked up the basket slowly. "What else?"

"Get me Ashwick root as well. They’re pale, twisted, and smell like iron when you pull it fresh. Go past the second cluster of rocks where the soil darkens and you’ll find them there. Pull it from the base, don't snap it or it's worthless."

Matilda finally looked up, eyes sharp over the rim of her glasses. "And Lunara Moss. It’s just by the river. Pick the one with north-facing stones only. If the stone faces any other direction, leave it."

"How will I know which direction is north?"

Matilda scowled at her. "The right moss glows blue at dusk." She returned to her grinding. "Even a human can manage that."

Thora gripped the basket handle and moved toward the door.

"Hey, human."

She stopped and glanced at Matilda.

"The forest knows you don't belong there." Matilda's voice didn't soften but something in it shifted almost imperceptibly. "Stay on the lighted path. Don't just follow sounds; follow smells. Whatever you see between the trees at sundown, keep walking."

Thora didn't ask what she meant but her heart raced. Quietly, she left.

It took her a few steps past the tree line for her body to feel like it was back in that torn wedding dress, running while bleeding through the fabric. She remembered paws hitting the ground behind her. She gripped the basket tighter and kept walking, refusing to give the memory more than the second it stole.

She found the Morveil near the rocks, the Ashwick root where the soil darkened, and followed the sound of rushing water downhill for the Lunara Moss. The river was suddenly easy to locate when adrenalin wasn’t flooding her system.

She pushed through a web of leaves and swept her flashlight across the river. She didn’t find the Lunara moss, but she found something else immediately.

He stood waist-deep in the river not four meters away, scooping water over his head and bare shoulders. The moon cast everything in faint blue light. Entranced, Thora's flashlight travelled exactly one second longer than it should have. Before her brain caught up with her eyes, Regan turned around.

His broad shoulders pivoted first, water streaming down the carved ridges of his chest as the motion pulled his torso into full view.

She was supposed to look away or turn the flashlight off. She did neither. Instead, she stood frozen, kept looking as his thick pectorals flexed under the beam.

He started striding toward her without hesitation. Water parted around his thighs with each step, revealing powerful quads. His c**k bounced lightly with the movement, water dripping from the tip as he closed the distance. Veins stood out along his forearms when he reached up to push wet hair from his face.

The flashlight finally slipped, hitting the rocks with a clatter. Cheeks red like tomatoes, Thora whirled sharply to run but froze when he spoke.

“It’s too late to act shy, Thora.”