Chapter 33

He was about to try sitting up when from behind him, the dream voice said, “Hello, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re awake.”

Rafe whipped around and gasped as savage pain lanced through his head. Gripping the edge of the mattress while battling the spike of nausea, he tried to focus. A smiling, very young, blond-haired man was seated at the head of the bed.

““Don’t be alarmed.” The smile widened. “I’m your alpha.”

“Like hell you are.” The words shot out of his mouth before he could think what might be the best way to talk his way out of this mess.

The young man’s brow furrowed. “Now, don’t be afraid. I know you’re feeling confused and ill right now, but it will pass.” He stood and walked to the table where a carafe and a glass sat on a silver tray. The man poured some murky liquid and brought it to Rafe. “This will help with the pain. Drink up.”

Rafe slapped the man’s hand, sending the glass flying to land on the carpet. “Like I’d trust you.” Ignoring the wounded look on the alpha’s face, Rafe pressed on. “What was that, something to induce a heat?”

With a chuckle, the alpha corrected him. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to be induced. You’re well on your way all by yourself.” He gestured to the bed. “Your scent is making it very hard for me to restrain myself.”

Rafe looked down and choked. They had him wrapped in a skimpy white robe tied loosely in the front, and nothing else. Tugging the silky material to cover his genitals and his ass, he felt the sheets. Soaked. Oh, God. He was leaking lubrication. The alpha wasn’t lying. Soon Rafe would be begging to be mounted, and this eager newbie would be on hand to accommodate him. Curious about who had bought him, Rafe glared at his new owner and asked, “Who are you, and how much did you pay for me?”

“My name is Carrington Godspell.”

Even though it hurt to do so, Rafe raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Really?”

The alpha blushed. “It’s a family name. You can call me Cary. And I didn’t buy you. Yes, my father paid for me to be on the list of alphas privileged to be paired with an omega. But you’re not my property—in fact, I only want to make you happy.”

“That’s easy—unlock the door.” Maybe he could convince him they wouldn’t suit. Alpha or not, the guy was just a kid, too young to have developed the usual overbearing sense of entitlement. Maybe Rafe would be able to talk his way out of this.

“You know I can’t do that. You’re in no condition to be wandering in public. You’re much safer here, Rafael.”

“The name is Rafe,” he snapped. Something didn’t feel right about hearing his full name on the alpha’s lips—something about it was too intimate. When Grant called him Rafael, it sounded like lilting music. From this guy, it was an invasion of privacy.

Realizing things were going to get a lot more embarrassing if he didn’t get to the toilet fast, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand.

Cary moved to assist, putting an arm around Rafe’s waist to steady him. “Let me help you.”

Despite the prickly urge to shrug off the man’s touch, Rafe wasn’t sure he could stand on his own. “I’m heading for the bathroom. And I don’t want company.”

“All right. But call out if you need help.” Cary guided Rafe into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving him alone.

A glance at the door handle revealed there was no lock, of course. Wasting no more time, he relieved himself and washed his face and hands. He was desperate for a long hot shower to help clear his brain and ease the ache in his head, but the unlocked door and the hungry alpha beyond it ruled out that idea. Settling for a glass of water, he filled one of the disposable plastic cups on the sink and drank until his stomach protested. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Cary was sitting on the bed, waiting. He patted the mattress. “Come sit down so we can talk.”

Ignoring the invitation, Rafe circled the bed and lowered himself into the chair next to the table.

A look of disappointment on his face, the alpha assured Rafe, “I know this isn’t what you want;I’mnot what you want.” Cary picked at the sheet, absently folding the hem in precise, measured sections. “But to tell you the truth, you’re not what I’d envisioned either.” Under his breath, he added, “You’re a lot older than I expected.”

Rafe fought his laughter at the consternation on the kid’s face. An odd surge of sympathy for what seemed to be a gentle alpha blossomed. “So how old are you?”

“Nineteen.” He averted his eyes and murmured, “Or I will be soon.”

Good Lord, a baby. “Well, I don’t want an alpha. So you can go tell whoever runs this fancy brothel it’s not going to work.”

The man’s cheeks flamed as he protested, “It’s not a brothel!” Then, seeming to remember who was supposed to be in charge, he added, “Besides, you can’t say no. It doesn’t work that way.”

“It’s going to this time.” Rafe almost felt sorry for the kid. Almost.