Hunger and Pride

JULIETTE

All through the moments of my life, I had never for once believed time slowed when you eagerly waited for something, but today, I was forced to believe it, to dwell on it as my stomach tightened from hunger.

I had been waiting all morning, until noon, and even as the sun dipped low. My stomach growled loudly. I understood the faces Ria and Stacy passed me when I went to the kitchen to get a meal.

They had been hinting at me because they knew Darius had ordered Patricia, the head maid, to starve me, to make sure I didn't get even a grain of rice down my throat.

But they couldn't say a word because when I walked into the buzzing kitchen, she was there, ordering every one of them around as though they were puppets and not living beings.

I was not a servant under Patricia, and she hated it. It was so obvious because I saw the spite flashing in her eyes when she told me, “The kitchen is locked for today, no meals will be sent out.”

It took me hours to realize I was being punished by Darius. How could I let that slip my mind? I slapped him in the midst of his nobility, I embarrassed him, and though his reaction was strange, I knew a punishment was inevitable. However, this was extreme, starving me should be out of it, what more does this monster plan to do to me?

“Omega Juliette.” A knock followed, jerking me out of my thoughts.

I rose from my bed, striding to the door and pulling it open. A guard stood there, mounted in his hefty frame.

“Alpha Darius sends for you.” He said and my stomach churned. Hearing his name spiked my hunger even more.

“I will be on my way,” I replied and the guard walked away, disappearing behind the corridor. I heaved a sigh, wondering if my waning strength would successfully get me to Darius's chamber.

Regardless, I found my way there, and met the door was slightly open. I pushed it and slowly walked in.

Closing the door behind me, I fought the urge to lean on it. I needed somewhere to sit or lie down before I would collapse.

My gaze weakly settled on Darius, and my heart sank, he was seated in an enormous dark wood chair, with a height that made him appear even more untouchable.

Beside him, a medium-sized table had been prepared filled with the one thing I had been dreaming of all day.

Food.

He had everything on his table, a garnished steaming steak, steaming hot bread, a bowl of rice, beef sauce, peas and beans, blueberry muffins, pie, spaghetti and meatballs, a jar of juice, and fruits, grapes, and blueberries. Rich, flavourful, sumptuous meals, their aromas filled my nostrils, and my mouth watered. I swallowed my spew, adjusting, where I stood, my gaze not leaving the table of goodness.

My stomach rumbled loudly that I almost held it, but I fought the urge. I wanted to pull closer even though my pride screamed at me to turn away.

“Juliette, you are just in time for dinner.” Darius leaned back in his chair, a wicked grin on his face

I gulped, “D–Dinner?” I asked, trying to confirm if he truly called me here to have dinner with him.

I took a step forward, but Darius held out his hand, “Sit on the floor,” he commanded, and I frowned.

“You are my slave.” He reminded me, “So you have to sit next to me, on the floor. Or you can stand and go hungry. The choice is yours.”

I froze where I was, my fists curling at my sides. “But…”

“But what? Do you think I would let you sit anywhere else but the floor?” He said and laughed, the sound full of taunting.

The ache in my belly bit at me mercilessly, but my pride fought against it, clinging to scraps of dignity.

My throat tightened, my body trembling as the war waged inside me. Hunger and pride.

Minutes slipped by, and each second felt like a lash across my back. The food’s aroma was unbearable, and my hunger screamed louder.

I couldn't hold back anymore, so I fell to my knees and sank to the floor beside his chair.

I hated myself for it, but I was hungry and wanted to stay alive even if it meant dealing with a bastard like Darius.

Darius tore a piece of the steak with his hand. The meat was so tender that it slipped off easily. He placed it in his mouth, slowly chewing it.

My mouth watered again, and I swallowed, staring intently at him.

He calmly looked at me, mischief flashing in his gaze. “If you want food,” he murmured, “Then you have to beg for it.”

My head sparked, and the pain in my stomach ignited my anger. My chest heaved as fury clawed at me. I glared at him, gritting my teeth.

“No! I would rather starve than beg you.”

Silence stretched between us and I expected him to laugh and call me a fool.

But instead, a low chuckle rolled from his throat. He shook his head and said, “Stubborn, as always.”

He tore another piece of meat and his hand hovered in front of my lips. The aroma attacked my nostrils and I found myself parting my lips and taking the piece from his hand.

The meat was warm, soft, and the taste, heavens, the taste was everything I imagined and more.

Darius retracted, his fingers brushing against my lips, lingering just enough to send a jolt through me.

Again and again, he fed me everything on the table, meat, rice, spaghetti, muffins, and fruit. Each with his hands, and each time, his fingers brushed my mouth, the contact ignited something in me that I couldn’t control.

Darius seemed to enjoy my conflict as much as the meal itself. By the time he fed me the last of the berries, my entire body basked in the nourishment only good food brought.

Suddenly, Darius picked up a small piece of the muffin remaining and placed it in the center of his lips. He pulled me up and forced me to sit on his lap, he snuck his hand around my neck , forcing me to lean towards him and then he sealed our lips together, forcing the pastry into my mouth while he savored my lips.

I didn't hold back, rather, I closed my eyes, reeling from the heat that formed in my stomach. I was unable to fight this particular urge, and I tried to push my tongue into his mouth to taste him as well, and he gave me access.

When Darius pulled away, our eyes locked, and my heart pounded loudly in my chest. I feared he would hear it.

He didn't push me, he didn't tell me to leave, he pulled my head to his chest, and my body didn't tense as I expected, instead, I found myself relaxing in the arms of the man who ruined my life.