The Alpha's choice

Chapter 5: The Glass Cage

The morning sun hit the glass of the Obsidian Tower like a searchlight, making everything in Ryker’s office look sharp and unforgiving. Kaelen sat at his new desk, his eyes burning from a lack of sleep. The plush rug under his feet felt like a trap; it was so soft and quiet compared to the hard concrete floors he was used to. Every time he shifted his weight, he felt like he was sinking.

Across the vast room, Ryker sat behind his own massive desk. He hadn't said a word in three hours. He just kept his head down, scrolling through digital files, but Kaelen could feel the Alpha’s attention. It was like a physical weight pressing against his skin. Even with the high-powered scent scrubber humming under his desk, Kaelen could still smell Ryker—that warm, heavy mix of dark coffee and sandalwood. It was a smell that promised safety, which made it the most dangerous thing in the world to someone like Kaelen.

Around 11:00 AM, Kaelen’s hand started to shake. He dropped his digital pen, and it clattered loudly against the glass tabletop. The sound felt like a gunshot in the silent room.

"You're distracted," Ryker said. He didn't look up, but his voice was steady and low.

"I'm just tired," Kaelen lied, his voice sounding thin even to his own ears. He reached down to grab the pen, but his fingers felt numb and clumsy. "The move... the new light... I’m still adjusting."

Ryker stood up. He didn't rush, but he moved with a purpose that made Kaelen want to bolt for the door. He walked over and stopped just outside the glass partition he’d had installed around Kaelen’s station.

"It’s not the light, Kaelen," Ryker said. He leaned against the glass, his expression hard. "It’s the chemistry. I got the report from my security team this morning."

Kaelen froze. His blood felt like it had turned to slush. "Security team? You had someone follow me?"

"You went to District 9 last night," Ryker said, ignoring the question. "You met with a man named Silas. He’s a known dealer of illegal 'Ghost' suppressants. They’re black-market junk, Kaelen. They cause heart failure and kidney damage if you use them as long as you have. Most people who take them don't make it to thirty."

Kaelen stood up so fast his chair rolled back and slammed into the floor-to-ceiling window behind him. "You have no right! You’re my boss, not my owner. What I do on my own time is—"

"You’re a fugitive," Ryker interrupted, his voice dropping into a dangerous, primal growl that made the hair on Kaelen’s neck stand up. "In the eyes of the law, you’re an unregistered Omega. If the Peacekeepers find out you’re taking those pills, they won't just arrest you. They’ll put you in a medical ward and study you like a lab rat."

"I don't have a choice!" Kaelen shouted. All the fear he’d been bottling up for twelve years finally broke. He didn't care about being the "cold, quiet Beta" anymore. "You think I like this? These pills make me feel like I’m half-dead. I can't taste my food. I can't feel the heat of the sun. Everything is gray. But it’s the only way I get to be a person. It’s the only way I get to build my towers instead of being some Alpha’s house pet."

Ryker watched him, his eyes softening in a way that was almost worse than the anger. He stepped around the glass partition, entering Kaelen’s small circle of space. Kaelen backed up until his shoulders hit the window, looking out over the fifty-story drop to the city streets below.

"I’m not going to let you take them anymore," Ryker said.

"You can't stop me," Kaelen whispered, though he knew he was lying.

"I already did. I bought Silas’s entire stock this morning. And then I told him if he ever sells to you again, I’ll have his shop leveled to the ground."

Kaelen felt the air leave his lungs. "You... you took them? You’re going to let me run out? Everyone in this building will smell me. I’ll be caught by lunch."

"No one is catching you," Ryker said. He was standing right in front of Kaelen now, so close that Kaelen could feel the heat radiating off him. "This floor is locked down. Only my thumbprint opens those doors. The air scrubbers are being upgraded as we speak. You’re going to stay here, and you’re going to detox from those pills where it’s safe."

"Safe?" Kaelen laughed, a jagged, desperate sound. "Safe with an Alpha I barely know? Do you have any idea what happens when a High-Yield Omega stops taking suppressants after ten years? It’s not just a scent, Ryker. It’s a riot. My body will lose its mind. And you... you won't be able to just 'be a gentleman' about it. You'll react. You won't have a choice."

Ryker reached out. He didn't grab Kaelen’s wrist this time. Instead, he slammed his hand against the window right next to Kaelen’s head, caging him in.

"I know exactly what's going to happen," Ryker said, his voice thick with an intensity that made Kaelen’s heart thud painfully. "And I’d rather deal with a 'riot' than watch you kill yourself one pill at a time. You want to build towers? You can’t do that if your heart stops beating."

Kaelen looked up into Ryker’s dark eyes. He saw something there that wasn't just dominance. It was a fierce, protective anger—not at Kaelen, but at the world that had forced him to hide.

"Why do you care so much?" Kaelen whispered.

"Because for the first time in my life, I found someone who isn't a lie," Ryker said. "And I’m not letting you go."

Just then, the office door buzzed. A smug, familiar voice came through the intercom.

"Ryker? You in there?" It was Marcus. "I’ve got the budget reports. And I’ve got some really interesting news about our friend Voss. I did a little digging into his old school records... turns out his 'Beta' testing was flagged for a manual review that never happened."

Kaelen’s face went white. Ryker didn't move his hand from the glass. He kept his gaze locked on Kaelen’s.

"Go to the back lounge," Ryker commanded quietly. "There’s a bed, a shower, and a private scrubber. Lock the door. Do not come out until I tell you."

Kaelen didn't argue. He scrambled into the private lounge at the back of the office, his heart racing. As he slammed the door and turned the lock, he heard the main office doors open. He heard Marcus walk in, his scent of tobacco and citrus sharp and aggressive.

Kaelen slid down the back of the door until he hit the floor, burying his face in his hands. His head was starting to throb. A low, pulsing heat was beginning to crawl up the base of his spine.

The pills were wearing off. He was out of time.