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tall as Jules. No! A small clock would be more difficult to calibrate. More fun!

“Then it is settled. Everything you need to sketch out schematics will be waiting for you in the room across the hall. That will be your workspace. The fabrication department will queue your request behind daily necessities and emergency work.”

“Can I start now?”

“No.” A male who had glared so ferociously the moment before almost smirked. “I find myself at a place in life where I understand the need for balance between work and pleasure.” Jules said that last word as if he didn’t fully understand it.

Pleasure? Clearly, he was ready for her to perform, Brenya already sliding to her knees to pleasure the man as she had been taught.

Shooting to his feet, Jules roared, “Get up and sit back in your chair!”

None of it had been intentional, yet she had ruined her chance to make a clock. Sadness crashed, the wave breaking apart the brittle excitement she’d known.

“Hear me, woman!” Grabbing the glittering vase of flowers that came each day when the breakfast cart was outside the door, Jules Havel threw it to smash into a cascading shower of glittering crystal. The window he had aimed for solid as it had ever been. “You are not permitted to touch me unless you want to!”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to ruin this further by crying... or speaking. Rapid nods were offered instead.

The man actually ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the short ends in a very human gesture. “It’s not your fault.”

“Sometimes, I see things inside you that suggest something I felt constantly from Jacques. You don’t touch me, but you want to. I want to build a clock.”

“Do you want me to touch you?”

He knew the answer was no. The question had been a reminder that she slept deeper and deeper inside her circle of pillows.

From anger to hunger to longing, brief flashes of emotion each differing in their taste, and each fleeting. Vanishing from Jules Havel's mind as if they had never existed.

Their stare began again, only this time, the man seasoned it with words that she would never forget. “When you are ready, you will come to me, and though I promised once to hurt you, you have my word that I will not.”

Again, she was the one who broke their gaze, looking to the mess for something to do besides sit and grow warm.

When she moved to stand, he lifted a hand. “Don’t touch the glass. Your mind and body have enough to heal as it is.”

Three Alphas armed with a vacuum, floor wax, and a tray of simple food came and went in a blink.

Brenya ate gruel, smiling at the taste. The man drank something that stank of rotting tubing. And then they went to the separate ends of their bed.

In the dark, Brenya could have sworn Jacques touched her hair, shrieking as she roused from sleep to scrabble away before he might mount her.

The nest of pillows scattered, Brenya locking herself in the bathroom as if that trick might work.

She’d seen the man rip the door from his own lavatory. That didn’t stop her from bracing against the wood.

Jules’ voice came instead. “When you are ready to come out, there are matters we need to discuss.”

He did not sound angry. Glancing into the emptiness of him, the Beta was the same neutral calm as always. But Jacques, Jacques was scratching for attention just enough to bring gooseflesh on her body.

Minutes passed, and she felt more foolish. Jacques Bernard was not in the room. He hadn’t been any of the times she had jumped at shadows or thought she heard his purr.

Unlatching the door, she found the Beta rebuilding her nest. Shy, she went to help him, altering the placement of a few soft things for optimal structural support.

“When an Omega is parted from the person they share a pair-bond with, mental decline commences. Auditory hallucinations, physical reactions, nightmares.” The perfunctory way in which Jules said these things, it made it seem immaterial, manageable.

It felt no different than a supervisor outlining her duties for the day.

Handing her the last pillow to place wherever she wanted, he met her eye and took the fresh calm of the moment away. “Jacques Bernard has been under a medically induced coma, a feeding tube ensuring he receives optimal nutrition. However, this situation is unsustainable. It is clear to me that it would be in your best interest to have Jacques functioning.”

That was why the Alpha’s psyche had withdrawn like low tide. He was there, but he was quiet, and the idea of him crashing back in left Brenya shaking her head. “No.”

Jules Havel explained further, emotionless and unresponsive to her refusal. “There will be times you will be required to tolerate his presence. How often those moments arrive will depend on your reaction to his absence.”

Shaking her head more firmly, she clutched the last pillow to her chest. “No.”

“He will be assigned to tend Lucia through her pregnancy.”

Brenya didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t care. “Please don’t give me back to Jacques Bernard!”

It looked like the Beta considered reaching out to touch her, wielding a firm voice instead of a soft touch. “You share a pair-bond with the Alpha. He will be an unavoidable nuisance for the rest of your life. But do not imagine that I would ever let him fuck you. You will never kneel again to take him in your mouth.”

When he gestured for her to climb into her nest, she did, retreating under the covers as if the whole night might go away.

Jules underestimated Jacques’ obsession if he imagined the Alpha would leave her alone.

A warm purr came from the Beta climbing into his side of the bed. An auditory caress that was so different than the purrs she experienced in the past.

Yet it worked the same; her eyes grew heavy, and the knot in her stomach loosened. A strange hum fell from her lips, Brenya floating on

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