Page 12 of Ruthless Alpha (Nightfire Islands Alphas #3)

I didn’t know what Xander wanted from me.

I kept the house spotless, but he didn’t seem to care; then again, my uncle had never seemed to care, either, until something happened that meant the floors were unswept and the kitchen cluttered when he returned home.

Unlike my uncle, Xander did seem to appreciate it when I cooked.

He made the time to compliment the food and had offered to clean the dishes more than once.

It was an offer I always refused, not knowing what might be expected in return.

My uncle had always insisted that I owed him for putting a roof over my head, for giving me a warm place to sleep at night.

Every freedom I ever had was earned through hard work, but on Ensign, that hard work got me nowhere.

If I wanted fresh air, I could do circuits of Xander’s backyard, but it didn’t make me feel any less caged.

I was like one of those poor animals that humans kept in cages for their entertainment, circling and circling my enclosure until I eventually went insane.

At the very least, I’d been pleasantly surprised by our impromptu training session, and I found myself eager to try again.

I tried not to think about the heat of Xander’s body against mine when he’d pinned me to the wall, how his scent had overwhelmed me, dampening the fear that thrilled down my spine at the suddenness of his proximity.

I hadn’t been the only one affected. I wasn’t innocent enough to mistake the desire in his eyes, and I hated the way it made me catch my own breath, the way it made me feel hot between my legs.

There was no point in denying that my husband was a beautiful man, but I still hadn’t chosen him.

I still couldn’t leave him if I wanted to.

But I could use his feelings to my advantage.

He might have said he didn’t want me on that first night, but I’d heard him on the radio with his friend, calling me beautiful.

Perhaps if he thought I was content, if I gave him what he wanted and acted like I was happy, like I wanted to spend time with him, then he’d soften the rules surrounding my freedom.

If I offered him my body—better than waiting for his patience to run out, better than waiting for him to take it—then maybe I could sweet-talk him into letting me out on my own.

I shuddered at the thought of it, of being reduced to using my virginity as a bargaining chip, but these were the cards I’d been dealt.

I’d survived ten years of my uncle’s abuse, and I would survive Ensign, too, as long as I played those cards right.

I couldn’t just flutter my eyelashes at him and hope he took up the invitation—I would need something more obvious.

The sad pile of clothes he’d brought from the laundry wasn’t going to help, that was for sure.

Some of them did fit, and they were far more comfortable than the dress I’d been sold in, but they weren’t exactly going to tantalize my husband.

I had only the vaguest outline of a plan when I went down to start preparing breakfast, but it started with being nice.

“Good morning,” I said, as Xander emerged from the basement, sweaty and panting. He blinked back at me, surprised.

“Good morning,” he replied. “Breakfast smells great.”

He always told me breakfast smelled great. After his morning workout, I was pretty sure that any hot food would smell great to him, but I made sure to give him a half-smile for the compliment, as if I was trying not to show my pleasure.

“I was uh—I was wondering if you could take me down to the laundry this morning,” I said as I put the plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. “Most of the clothes you brought don’t fit.”

“I’ve got training this morning,” he told me, “but I can drop you off on the way there and ask one of the patrols to pick you up a little later. Would half an hour be enough?” I could tell he was expecting me to argue with him, to say it was ridiculous that I couldn’t go down to the laundry on my own.

It was ridiculous that I couldn’t go to the laundry on my own, but that was not the point this morning.

“That would be perfect, thank you,” I said sweetly.

Once breakfast was cleared away, I was shepherded into a low, squat building near Xander’s house.

The fall weather outside was starting to grow chilly, but the air inside the laundry was hot and damp from the steaming vats over which a dozen women were bent, scrubbing, rinsing, or wringing out clothes.

All eyes turned to us as we entered, but Xander was looking at a woman with greying hair and piercing blue eyes. Women couldn’t be Alphas, but if this laundry was a Pack, she was certainly in charge.

“Rosie, this is Lenise. She runs the laundry like a military operation, so stay on her good side,” said Xander, and Lenise rolled her eyes with a smile, deepening the expressive lines of her face.

“Ha! I can tell when you’re trying to butter me up, Alpha,” she retorted. “What do you want?”

“Rosie here needs a few more clothes,” Xander explained. “The ones I picked up didn’t fit.”

“Obviously, they didn’t. Look at her,” Lenise scoffed. “Leave her with me.”

Xander nodded his thanks, giving my arm a gentle squeeze.

“Cole will pick you up in about twenty minutes,” he said, and then he was gone.

I never thought I would miss his presence in a room, but the moment he left me alone, there was no one else for the laundresses to stare at.

I felt like a child in a school play, standing in front of the Pack, not knowing any of my lines.

What did that want me to do? Was I supposed to say something?

“Everyone, back to work. You’re not here to ogle some poor girl.

” Lenise snapped, and I let out a sigh of relief as the women hurried to resume their tasks.

Turning back to me, Lenise pointed to a few neat baskets of folded clothes in the corner.

“Have a root through those. I’m not making any promises about fit, though.

We don’t make girls like you on Ensign.”

That was obvious enough. All the females in the laundry were tall, slim, and muscular. Xander had said they could all fight, hadn’t he? If that were true, it was hardly surprising that figures like mine were a rarity, especially on an island where fresh food had to be shipped in from elsewhere.

“Where do they make girls like you?” piped up one of the laundresses, and I cringed.

“Arbor,” I confessed, and several jaws dropped.

“Well, shit,” said another female, even taller than the others, with a mane of red hair.

“Did the Alpha really buy you on Tritica?” demanded another.

“No,” I said. “It was Telaxis.”

“Well, shit ,” the redhead said again, but a little of the hostility had gone out of her expression. I didn’t want their pity, but I’d take it if it meant they’d leave me in peace.

I scuttled to the corner of the room, slowly unfolding and refolding the items in the baskets, trying to find something that would show off my body.

I could still feel the other women casting me sidelong glances from time to time, but I did my best to ignore it as I sorted through the piles of dull, utilitarian clothing.

There was nothing in any of the baskets, but surely this wasn’t all the spare clothing on the whole island.

“Um, Lenise,” I ventured. “I was wondering if—if maybe—”

“If what, girl?” Lenise barked back at me, not looking up from the stubborn grass stain she was scrubbing out of a pair of sweatpants. “Spit it out.”

“I was wondering if you had anything a little more, um, sensual?”

I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. Every eye was once again on me, and this time the looks ranged from amused to horrified to strangely hostile.

“And what might you want that for?” Lenise—whose expression was firmly in the category of amused —said, dropping the sweatpants to place a hand on her cocked hip.

“Isn’t it obvious?” came a voice from the back of the room. Lenise ignored it.

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Eighteen,” I told her. There was a moment of tense silence before the redhead barked out a laugh.

“That’s why he got sick of you, Gina—he likes them young.” She shoved the woman working next to her, only to receive a crude hand gesture in return.

“Fuck off,” said Gina. Her voice was low and husky, her skin a rich tan, with a river of dark brown hair braided down her back.

Her features were fierce and sharp, attractive in a way that was more intimidating than inviting.

She was exactly the kind of female I’d imagined Xander preferring, but trying to picture the two of them together made something ugly twist in my stomach.

My wolf growled, and I had to concentrate hard to keep the sound from rumbling up into my throat.

“The Alpha, he—” I started to ask, but the redhead cut me off with another laugh.

“What, you think he’s some kind of monk?”

“Thank God he isn’t,” Gina said. “Pretty sure he’s the only male on this island who doesn’t think his knot is enough to get the job done.”

“And who asks before he tries it,” another laundress added, and there was a chorus of hums in agreement.

“You trying to take him out of circulation, Miss Arbor?” said the redhead, her expression suddenly serious. “You’ll have every unmated female on this island out for your blood.”

“I don’t—I’m not—” I protested, and her expression split back into a grin.

“We’re kidding,” she said. “Mostly.”

“Still a dangerous undertaking,” Gina advised with a smirk. “He’s gonna split you in two, honey.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but if Gina was going to answer me, she was cut off by Lenise.

“Aha! That’s the one I was looking for,” she exclaimed, grabbing a scrap of baby blue fabric from the bottom of a basket. “Remember when Fiona was late with her second boy, and her tits were the size of watermelons and she was hot all the time?”

The women nodded sagely.

“She was walking around like it was high summer in the snow,” said a stocky woman with salt and pepper hair.

“I made her a little slip to sleep in,” Lenise explained, “and I think it might be what you’re looking for.”

She held out the garment, a satisfied smile on her face.

Admittedly, it was almost too perfect: the slip tied closed right beneath the bust, leaving the material to flirt with opening around the belly and hips before it finished at mid-thigh.

It was made of linen so thin that it was almost translucent, and looking at it sent a thrill of terror through me.

“Thank you,” I said. Taking the slip felt like carrying stolen goods, like someone would take one look at me with it and know I was up to something, but I tried to look calm as I packed it away into the bag I’d brought with me.

“You’re lucky, Arbor,” said Gina. “The rest of us, we might get to spend a few weeks or months enjoying the Alpha’s company, but when he gets bored, we’re back to the dormitories and fighting off assholes who want the Alpha’s leftovers.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. When I looked a little closer at her, I saw that there was a long scar running from the base of her neck and across her chest, disappearing beneath the neck of her tank.

Had she got that fighting off a male who’d wanted more from her than she was willing to give?

Was it a fight she’d won, or one she’d lost?

Another question echoed in the back of my mind, one I didn’t want to have to answer: would I use my magic if it was all that stood between me and a male who demanded more than I was willing to give? Would I use it if I could spare another female from that violation?

I was spared having to answer when Cole pushed open the door.

“You ready to get back?” he asked me, not sparing a glance for the laundresses, none of whom acknowledged him in return. It wasn’t really a question. He was clearly irritated at being asked to babysit me in the first place.

“I’m ready,” I told him. He only grunted in response before disappearing back out the door. I scrambled to get my bag and follow him out, sparing only a second to look over my shoulder and say, “Thank you.”

Lenise waved me off, and then I found myself back in the fall chill. Just like last time, Cole offered no small talk on the short walk back to the Alpha’s residence, standing stiffly at the door until I was inside and out of his sight.

I clutched my prize to my chest, more determined than ever to ensure my new owner’s favor.

If I wanted to stay here in relative comfort, to be spared the dormitories and the males of Ensign, then I was going to have to get and keep Xander’s attention.

There was no way he wouldn’t grow bored of having a housewife who didn’t perform her chief wifely duties.

I rushed through the day’s cleaning, fairly certain that Xander wouldn’t notice if the skirting board wasn’t dusted, to make time to shower and wash my hair before he returned home.

Dinner was a simple steak and salad, and I tried to pass off my mortification as a coy blush when Xander asked if I’d managed to find anything that fit from the laundry.

He excused himself to bed early, as he usually did, and my stomach churned as I went through my almost-familiar evening routine.

Only tonight, instead of pulling on the shirt he’d given me that first evening and crawling into bed, I slipped into that baby blue nightdress.

There was no mirror in my room, but the material was tight around my breasts, squeezing them against my chest, while the skirt teased at the tops of my thighs.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that my survival was more important than saving myself for my mate, or any romantic notions like that.

There was no room for romance on Ensign.

I might not have a mate or a male I’d chosen, but I had a husband on whom I relied for safety and a roof over my head.

I had a male who required pleasing, and I was going to please him, whatever it took.