Page 24 of The Runaway
“So I get to be the sacrificial lamb sent to the slaughter?” Helen said. “Fine. God knows it’s better than suffering twelve hours of agony. But if I end up bruised and bleeding, then I want Gabriel thrown off this estate.”
Connor stared at Helen, shocked beyond words by her outrageous demand. Such disrespect for the master of the house was unthinkable, and despite Antoine’s calm and controlled personality, he was sure there would be a reckoning for her disobedience now.
Antoine shook his head, more in indecision than denial. “We all know that during a heat, things can get intense.”
“I knew it,” Helen said, fiery and bold far beyond her usual respectful demeanour. “You’d rather protect another alpha than think about how much an omega might be suffering.”
“That is enough!” It was Dante who’d yelled the angry words, on his feet with his fists clenched. “Antoine hasneverwillingly put any omega on this estate at risk. When Gaspard stepped out of line, he was banned from the estate. Do you really have so little faith in him now?”
“Gaspard was banned after he hurtyou,” Helen retorted. “But he’d visited plenty of times before that, and the omegas all hated him, and nothing was ever done about it.”
“Christophe was master of the house back then,” Max pointed out. “Gaspard was tolerated because of him, not Antoine.”
“And it was Christophe who banned him, as well,” Helen snapped back at him. “Not Antoine.”
“Christophe banned him because Antoine insisted on it,” Dante said, trying to control his anger.
Feeling sick to the stomach, and doing his best to remain unnoticed in the corner of the room, Connor dared to look at Antoine. His jaw was clenched, his mouth set in a thin, tight line. “Is this how the rest of you feel?” Antoine asked, casting his gaze over the other omegas. “Do you all believe that after a month of living peacefully on this estate, Gabriel is going to do serious harm to Helen now? If you were in her position, what would you choose? Do you still believe I have your best interests at heart, or do you honestly think I’m taking the easy way out, because circumstances are making life difficult?” His lip wavered a fraction, though Connor couldn’t tell whether it was due to anger or sorrow.
The rest of the omegas had the good grace to look ashamed of themselves. Max’s face had gone pale, while Claude stared miserably at the ground.
“If it was me, I’d take Gabriel,” Nicole said to Antoine, glaring at Helen and Max. “You’ve always done right by me, and I don’t see that changing now.”
“Me, too,” Michelle said. “Gabriel’s always been calm and polite. I don’t think we have anything to fear from him.”
“Sorry,” Max muttered, his face heating. “I was out of line. You do a damn sight better than most masters would, and we should all be grateful for it. I’m sorry.” The rest of them muttered agreements or apologies, until it was just Helen left. And to be fair, Connor could sympathise with her dilemma. An unknown alpha versus twelve hours of uncontrollable pain? It couldn’t be an easy choice. Not that Connor had ever had a choice about such things in the past.
But he said nothing, staying as silent as he had done all through the conversation. This was not his decision to make, and since he wasn’t even supposed to be on this estate, he had no right to be commenting on the situation.
“Helen?” Antoine prompted Helen, when she still failed to reply. “If you no longer believe in the integrity of this estate, there are other options.” Antoine was angry now, though his voice remained perfectly calm. And the threat, however subtly phrased, was a stark one. The implication was that if Helen didn’t want to be here, Antoine would arrange to have her sold. Connor knew from experience that she’d have far less hope of a peaceful life almost anywhere else in the world.
Helen’s face went pale as Antoine’s meaning hit home. “No! I don’t… God, no, I don’t want to leave. That wasn’t what I meant.” Antoine continued watching her, his gaze not wavering for a second. “I’m sorry,” Helen whispered, staring down at her hands, wringing her skirt in her lap. “You’re the best master any of us could ever hope to have. I’ll take Gabriel. It’ll be fine.”
Antoine laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “If he intentionally harms you, I will be taking it very seriously,” he told her softly. “I have no patience with anyone harming anyone else on this estate.” He tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye. “But for all the benevolence you are treated with here, you donothave the right to make demands of me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Helen said, her voice barely audible.
“I’ll go and speak to Gabriel,” Antoine said, “and the rest of you should go back to your duties. Henry, fetch some supplies to set up the mating room.”
With various words of acknowledgement, the rest of them scattered, Connor returning hastily to his work in the stable. He hadn’t been back into this room until it was time for bed.
Now, the mating room was unusually quiet. Even in a non-violent mating, a heat was usually quite loud. Connor’s first master, after he’d been sold from the baby farm, had been a reasonable sort of man, as far as alphas went. He’d stressed to Connor several times that he didn’t like hitting people as a form of punishment, and only resorted to it when someone had done something significantly damaging. He’d taken a switch to Connor’s back just three times in as many years. But even he, during a heat, had been wild and difficult to satisfy. He’d grunted and moaned his way through the entire thing, calling Connor a slut, and a cock-hole, and screaming a colourful collection of curse words each time he’d climaxed.
But as Connor strained his ears now, he could hear almost nothing, aside from the odd creak of the aging bed in the mating room. No yells, no curses… but also no cries of pain, thank God. He could only hope Antoine had been right, and Gabriel was as good a man as he seemed to think he was.
As it was nearing midnight – just over twelve hours since Helen’s heat had begun – Connor heard a noise. Muttered words, then shuffling and a few thumps. No doubt Gabriel and Helen had finished by now and were cleaning up and dressing. Helen would likely go to the bathhouse and wash, while Gabriel would return to his room and go to bed. Heats were exhausting for both parties, and a long sleep was the usual remedy afterwards.
But as Connor lay there, still valiantly trying to fall asleep, the door to the mating room was suddenly flung open with such force that it swung back on its hinges and hit the wall.
Connor jerked up out of bed with a fright, and several of the other omegas stirred as well, sitting up and looking around in confusion. A moment later, Helen came marching out of the door, striding across the bunk room with loud, angry steps.
“Oi, what the hell?” Max asked, sitting up in his bed.
“Helen? You all right?” Henry asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Helen strode past his bed.
“Fucking fine,” she snapped, not slowing down for an instant.
“Did he hurt you or what?” Max asked. “You look like someone set a swarm of bees on your ass.”