Owned By The Alphas

8

6. The Feast

The food. Holy f**k, the food. If I didn’t have a tingling bite from an alpha on my thigh that was still making my blood burn then I could’ve sworn I was in heaven.

I never cared about food, it was a means to an end, a by-product of survival instinct, but one meal from the wolves and I had changed my mind.

Flavor burst in my mouth. A succulent piece of pork with loud crackling and mouthwatering apple sauce coated my tongue, and it was better than anything I’d ever tasted.

I moaned as it slid down my throat, closing my eyes to savor the taste. When I opened them, Nikolai was smirking at me. I glared.

“Some of us don’t have the privileges of food with flavor,” I snapped, embarrassed at the way I had fawned over the food like it was the first meal I’d ever had.

In my eyes, it was. The village did what they could and we weren’t starving, but it was always dry and not worth getting excited about.

Soggy veggies from the garden, dry meat from the slaughter hut, and some grown herbs that tried to cover the taste of it.

We got by, but the wolves? They got the best of everything: our best chickens, our best pigs, our best cows, and all our best garden growth.

It was all to go to the city, while we kept the leftovers, the ones the wolves would punish us for passing on.

All the gross s**t.

“Then enjoy.” He nodded toward the food.

I wanted to push the plate away then, give in to my pride and refuse to do what I was told, but I was enjoying the food too much.

I dug in, scooping some mashed potatoes onto my plate and shoveling them into my mouth. I was disgusting, but I didn’t care. If he was going to f**k me anyway, then what should I care?

I looked around the table. The girls were happy, eating as ferociously as me, drinking, laughing with each other. Had they forgotten what we were there for?

I hadn’t.

I peered up at Nikolai, who wasn’t eating. He was watching. Not just me, all the girls, especially the ones from his village.

He looked at Derik and Braxton, who sat next to him, along the three-wide head of the table. They were eyeing the offerings too, and it made me nervous.

I didn’t mean to channel them, but I wanted to know what they were thinking and why they weren’t eating.

I froze as my emotions blended into theirs. There was hunger there, but it wasn’t for food.

I looked down at my plate, clearing my throat, unmoving as their want became mine, their lust became mine. Behind that, though, was an urgency, a lingering taste of what I could only describe as anxiety.

I frowned at that. They were nervous too? That made no sense, and they definitely didn’t look it.

“Stop it, Spitfire. Or I’m going to have to put you in time-out.” Braxton grinned, a hint of annoyance in his brow as he shoved me out of whatever emotions tainted my body.

I shuddered and went back to my own feelings, a sickness spreading in my stomach. I pushed my plate away, swallowing hard, ignoring the frowns from Nikolai and Derik.

“I can’t help it.” I shrugged, but he just smiled.

“Learn.”

“Why? You won’t see me past tomorrow, why does it matter what I feel inside you tonight?” I bit, and he laughed at that.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” He shook his head and took a sip of his wine.

I took a sip of mine and had to admit, we made some great wine. Our village was known for it and supplied the werewolves. I snuck some all the time, and the comfort from home made me feel better instantly.

Derik looked down at his watch then, before sighing and looking at the other two.

“It’s time,” he said, and they nodded once.

Derik stood first, walking down the table. The girls carried on as if he wasn’t behind them like a silent stalker, waiting to pounce.

He found a girl from the Forest village, one of his offerings, and bent over her, his hand landing on her shoulder. She jumped and looked up, shrinking back a little before her smile fell and she nodded.

She stood up, tucking her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear. Derik kept her hand in his and led her through a door.

There were three of them, and I hadn’t even noticed them before. Each one had a gold plate on it, each alpha’s symbol on one of them.

So those were the rooms.

I looked over at Braxton, who was taking his offering to his room, disappearing inside.

I gulped, sipping more wine.

Nikolai scraped his chair back, then leaned down by my ear. “That’s your last drink,” he ordered, and I scoffed.