The Scorch of Obedience

Rebecca’s POV

I didn't sleep. 

Sleep was an impossible luxury in a room permeated by the presence of Alpha Kael Volkov. I spent the night sitting ramrod straight on the narrow cot, listening to the steady, deep rhythm of his breathing from the massive bed across the room. 

This cot was a sour contrast to the otherwise luxurious room of the Alpha much like me. A piece of stone amongst gold. 

Every shadow seemed to hold a threat, every minute stretched into an hour. The Alpha was not just a man; he was a silent, simmering force of nature, and I was trapped in his eye.

The first rays of dawn brought a fresh wave of terror. My first duty would be to face him, to serve him.

I slipped off the cot, swallowed the contents of the small vial the bitter, earthy liquid tasted like survival and moved to the adjoining bathroom. The stone tub, larger than the entire Omega living quarters, was a mockery of my former life. I carefully began filling it, adjusting the temperature to a lukewarm warmth, unsure what the Alpha preferred, terrified of being wrong.

His voice, sharp and awake, cut through the silence. “Is the bath ready ?”

I froze, wiping my damp hands on my tunic. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, already awake, his back to me. His shoulders were broad, the muscle definition clearly visible even beneath the dark silk of his sleepwear.

“Alpha?” I managed, my voice thin.

“You misunderstand your duties, Rebecca,” he said, turning his head slightly. His eyes, dark as polished obsidian, settled on me with a calculating amusement that chilled me. “You are not merely here to maintain my physical space. You are here to attend to me. That includes the preparation of my body.”

He gestured to the silk tunic. “Disrobe me.”

My breath caught. The simple command felt like a violation. I was used to physical labor, to scrubbing and polishing, but this was intimate, humiliating, and utterly terrifying.

“Alpha, I… I am unsure of the procedure,” I stammered, shame heating my cheeks.

He stood, towering over me. He moved toward me, slow and deliberate, until he crowded me against the footboard of the bed. The scent of him clean skin and absolute power was suffocating. All I wanted was to run and engulf myself in Mom’s arms. 

“Well procedure is simple,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “You use your fingers. Now.”

He waited, his eyes daring me to disobey. My hands, cold and clumsy, finally lifted to the silk tunic. The fabric was fine, slippery, and warm from his skin. I fumbled with the knot at his waist, my fingertips brushing the taut, muscled skin of his abdomen. The small, electric shock of the contact made me withdraw my hand instantly.

Kael caught my wrist. His grip was firm, not painful, but utterly unbreakable.

“Don’t pull away,” he commanded, his eyes burning into mine. “Every touch, every moment you spend near me, is a privilege you must earn with perfect obedience. You will learn to be comfortable with your servitude, Omega.”

As the silk loosened, the tunic shifted, and my gaze, against all my training, was drawn downward.

Through the thin, damp silk, the outline of his arousal was undeniable a powerful, intimidating proof of his masculinity and the raw desire that seemed to hum just beneath his ruthless control. My breath hitched. I could not suppress the involuntary, wide-eyed stare.

Kael’s lips curved into a cold, satisfied smirk. His dark eyes flickered down, acknowledging the object of my terror before returning to my face.

“Distracted, Omega?” he drawled, his voice laced with hot, cruel amusement. “It’s merely a tool of my authority. Continue. I don't have all night.”

Humiliation and a terrifying flicker of something else, a fearful, primal curiosity flared through me. I averted my gaze immediately, my fingers trembling as I finally yanked the knot free.

He released the tunic, and it pooled at his feet, leaving him clad only in a pair of form-fitting dark briefs that did little to hide the intimidating power beneath. He was magnificent, terrifyingly so. His body was a landscape of dark, defined muscle, built for strength and speed. I kept my gaze fixed on his chest, refusing to let my eyes drop lower.

“The water, Rebecca,” he instructed, turning toward the bathroom.

I followed, my knees weak. He stepped into the huge tub, settling back against the stone rim, his heavy thighs parting the water. He rested his head back, watching me with a cold, snarky amusement.

“My face needs shaving. My hair needs washing. The small hairs on my arms need to be scrubbed of the forest scent from last night’s run.” He gave me a direct, challenging look. “Don’t rush. I enjoy the efficiency of a silent servant.”

I forced my mind to become numb, focusing only on the mechanics of the task. I lathered the soap, the foam creamy white against his dark skin. I scrubbed his arms and chest, my movements tentative yet thorough. The feel of his hard, uncompromising body beneath my hands was excruciating. I was touching the untouchable, the most powerful being in our territory, and he was reveling in my visible torment.

"You smell of fear," Kael commented suddenly, his eyes still closed. "It's clean. Not sour like the common pack. Intriguing."

I flinched, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood to keep the shame from surfacing.

“And you tremble,” he continued, a slow, hot smile curving his lips. "Stop. Control it. Your duty is to relax me, not to amuse me with your pathetic anxiety."

He grabbed a washcloth, pulling it from my hand with a sharp tug. He lifted my wrist and began drying it, his thumb slowly running over the frantic pulse point. The simple, deliberate contact was far more sensual and intimidating than any shouting would have been.

“The Beta, Rhys,” he murmured, his voice now rougher, closer. “He told me you were accosted by a few jealous bitches in the passage. They called you the 'dust-wolf.' They seem to think that because you are close to me, you have something they want. You understand what they want, don’t you, Rebecca?”

I could only shake my head.

“They want this,” he snarled, a low, possessive sound, his thumb digging in slightly. “My attention. My time. My claim. You have been given a privilege that others would bleed for. Do not take it lightly. You are my property, and that status is the only thing keeping you breathing.”

He released me abruptly. “Leave the water. Prepare my breakfast. And put your herbal concoction away. I don't want the scent of sickliness in my chamber."

I fled, my tunic clinging to my trembling body.

The day continued in a haze of fear and forced proximity. Serving his meals was another trial. I had to enter the grand dining hall, usually reserved for the Alpha's family and advisors.

The stares were immediate. His parents, Darius and Lyra, were seated at the massive table. Their eyes, especially Lyra’s, were daggers plunging into my back.

I placed a plate of simple fruit and eggs before Kael. As I turned to retreat, Lyra’s voice, sharp and crystalline, cut the air.

“What is the meaning of this, Kael? You have that Omega serving us? Send her back to the kitchens where she belongs.”

Kael didn’t look up from his plate. “She is my personal property, Mother. She serves me. Her presence is a constant reminder that my decisions are absolute and require no approval.”

Darius simply watched, his face carved with cold fury.

I could feel the hostility not only from the Volkovs but from the Beta and Gamma females who served the family. They were dressed in finer tunics, their eyes burning with intense, frustrated envy. They knew exactly what Kael’s move implied that I, the lowest of the low, was granted intimate, personal proximity to the most desired male in the Pack, even if I was terrified of him.

Later, while I cleared Kael's private study, a higher-ranking servant, a plump, dark-haired female named Annalise, blocked my way, her arms crossed.

“You think you’re special, dirt-wolf?” Annalise hissed, her scent sour with aggression. “The Alpha uses Omegas for one thing, and it won’t be cleaning his floors. You’ll be used and discarded. But before that, enjoy the feeling of his hand on you, you pathetic, shiftless whore.”

Her explicit venom was designed to break me. I didn't respond, holding to my silence, my eyes fixed on the tray in my hands. I was nothing. I was invisible.

But as I finally returned to Kael’s wing, I realized my silent obedience was only fueling his hot, cruel game. I was a caged bird, and he was finding increasing amusement in watching me flutter. My only hope was the tea I swallowed, the suppressant that dulled the useless wolf inside me, praying that the fear and the silence would keep the true danger the powerful, unpredictable Alpha at bay.

I hadn't lasted twenty-four hours in his service, and already, my old life felt like a distant, impossible dream. 

The touch of his skin still burned on my hand, a constant, physical reminder of my servitude.