Vengeance in His Bed

Shadron cleared his throat loudly, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes darted nervously between the two of them. "Look, Dorrent, this is really not the time to be showing off your affection," Shadron grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "We need to start moving already. Every minute we stand here in these bogs, the whole neighborhood is surrounding us."

Dorrent didn’t loosen his grip on Jannah’s waist by even a millimeter. He didn’t even bother turning his head, his face still deeply buried in the fragrant curve of her neck. "Give me a minute, Shadron," Dorrent delivered flatly, his deep voice muffled against her skin. "Or better yet, go get yourself someone to hug out there. You can hug Shalen."

Shalen, who was standing right behind Shadron with her tablet tucked beneath her arm, let out a smooth, polished scoff. "No thank you, Sir. I am completely uninterested in a playboy like Shadron."

Shadron rolled his eyes, turning toward the door. "As if I’m interested either. I’m not even interested in omega women anymore."

Before Shadron could step further out, the loud, chaotic sound of raised voices and angry yelling erupted from the narrow alleyway outside. A crowd was gathering right near their transport, the residents shouting over one another in a sudden confrontation.

"Check what the hell is happening," Dorrent ordered without looking up.

Shadron and Shalen stepped out into the damp lane to check on the commotion, closing the door behind them, leaving Jannah and Dorrent alone in the quiet, dusty room.

The second the latch clicked shut, Jannah began to push against his chest. She thrashed her upper body, trying to twist her head away from his shoulder. "Let go of me, Dorrent!" she gasped out, her hands shoving against his shoulders. "I want to go outside and see what’s going on! Let me go!"

"Whatever is happening outside doesn’t matter right now," Dorrent murmured, his hand moving up to cup the back of her head, gently but firmly pressing her face back against his collarbone. His winter-frost scent enveloped her completely, warm and suffocating. "Listen to me for a minute, Jannah. Just listen."

Jannah’s hands stiffened against his chest, her heart hammering wildly under her ribs.

"I am so sorry," Dorrent whispered, his rough voice carrying a rare vulnerability that vibrated straight through her skin. "I am so sorry for everything you went through... for being alienated and pushed away because of something you couldn’t help. It is not your fault that people call you cursed. It’s not your fault at all."

He smoothed his palm down the dark, silky length of her hair, his chest expanding with a slow, heavy breath. "You are a kind, gentle soul, Jannah. You deserve people’s love. You deserve care. And if everybody in this rotten city doesn’t want you... if those fools out there push you away... I want you. I want you, and I will show you all the love you deserve."

Jannah froze entirely.

The fierce, defensive fire in her limbs completely evaporated. A sudden, terrifying weakness flooded her knees, making her frame go limp in his arms. She had spent years in these suffocating bogs, entirely alone. She had no friends, no sisters, no mother or father to hold her. The neighbors crossed the street whenever she walked past, spitting on the ground and calling her a wicked witch, an outcast who brought death to any man who dared look her way. Not a single human being in her entire life had ever held her like this. Nobody had ever uttered those soft, protective words to her.

A sob ripped out of her throat.

She broke down completely in his embrace. She couldn’t fight it anymore; the emotional weight of years of crushing loneliness broke through her pride. Her small frame shook as she sank into the hug, burying her face into his shirt. Tears poured from her eyes, soaking into his shoulder as she wept openly against his chest.

"How... how can a monster like you even speak about love?" Jannah wept, her voice breaking into uneven, choked gasps as her fingers clutched at the fabric of his suit. "Shut up... just be quiet, Dorrent..."

Dorrent tightened his arms around her tiny, trembling body, holding her so close that her ribs flattened against his chest, letting her weep out all the buried pain onto his skin.

"I might not really know much about love, Jannah," Dorrent confessed quietly, his voice trembling with a sincerity that made the air feel heavy. "I don’t know the fairy tales or the romantic speeches. But what I do know... is that I never want to see you in pain. I hate seeing you worried, and I won’t tolerate anyone in this world treating you badly. I only wish the best for you."

Jannah let out a bitter laugh through her tears, her head lifting slightly from his chest as she glared up at his handsome bothered face with blotchy, tear-stained cheeks. "Wishing the best for me?" she argued, her voice cracking with emotional turmoil. "Is wishing the best for me forcing your way into my body? Impregnating me as you want, fucking me whenever your perverted mind craves it, and controlling my whole life so I can’t even go to school as I want?! What a weird, sick way of caring for someone, Alpha Grefo!"

Dorrent looked down into her wet, flashing eyes, a subtle, unbothered smirk touching the corners of his lips. "It isn’t as bad as you make it sound, little physician," he purred low in his throat, his thumb gently wiping a tear from her cheek. "I will take good care of you. All you have to do is be a good girl and comply with me. You will get the best of everything... far more than you are already getting from me."

Jannah’s eyebrows drew together, her jaw tightening. "And what am I already getting from you that you are referring to?"

Dorrent’s eyes flashed with a wicked amusement. "You know damn well what you’re getting," he whispered against her forehead, his tone dripping with explicit confidence. "You don’t need me to say it out loud."