Keith
I’ve never worn anything this stiff in my life.
The fabric clings to my shoulders like a second skin, and every seam is a reminder that I don’t belong here. I tug at the high collar, but Clinton slaps my hand away with practiced ease.
“Stop fidgeting,” he says, smiling without looking at me. “This is the price we pay for being an Alpha.”
“You think the monkey suit is just another way to hold dominion over us? Like the King sits there and thinks of the most ostentatious rules to prove he can make us do whatever he wants.”
I know I shouldn't speak this way, but I trust Clinton, and after what I shared with him on the car ride over here, a little criticism of the dress code is the least of my problems.
“That's what I always thought. There really isn't another reason for it. But si
