Rejection on the Alpha #1

CHAPTER 16: The Glass Of Dreams

Being disgusted is not a simple definition in feeling empty or full with regret, guilt and the bile that threatens to crawl up your throat during stress or just being plain sick. I felt the bile when the dancer with perfect skin was whipped, his blood exposed and skin marred because of a decision I made, a decision I didn’t know about because this was new territory.

This was a land I didn’t want to sink myself into.

It felt rotten on my tongue. Martin rests his hand on the back of my chair, making small talk with nearby alphas who moved around while I was stared at, studied like a rat in a lab by some seriously damaging people in the room. One included the councilman who questioned me like one would question a lawyer in a court, or a public interrogation stand and I was rewarded for a criminal act instead of the other way round. Manipulative and deceptive. It shouldn’t have surprised me.

Reina was speaking with a Beta female across the room, laughing with a glass of wine.

Robert leans in, “Smile.” He says, before council press snap our picture.

I wasn’t smiling, “Why did Reina not mention the rules of this evening?” I question him lowly.

He studies his drink, taking a slow, inconsiderate sip before looking to me, “Because you were suppose to ask. Martin did give you the chance to ask if you had any questions, and he demonstrated in front of you, watching the dancer before waiting for them to complete the dance. Looking away or covering your eyes initiates a stimuli response in the guards, almost. You don’t like the dancer, they failed at their one job and are punished for failure—hey! Where are you going?” He whisper-yells when I rip myself from my seat, capturing Martin’s attention—fuck him, fuck them all. I strut down the line of seats, not caring for the eyes that follow me as I strut towards the doors, they open them when they see the look I give them and I take the foyer elevator to an infirmary.

It opens and I follow the directed signs above toward reception, “Hi, I’m here to see the patient recently admitted.” I see to the receptionist. She stares at me, before pointing down the hall.

“First door to your left. His advisor is with him, I believe your actions have consequence, the dancer will lose his job because of the lashings. Either he dry-humped you through the air, or your as cruel as they say.” She mutters, old and cranky, she steps away with a frown in my direction.

I purse my lips to ignore the dig in my heart as I move down the hall, I knock before entering and tense as the dancer’s eyes snap over to me, wide. His advisor bows to me, standing up and about to tell his employee to do the same, but I release a growl and he stops.

I stare at the dancer, “I don’t think I can begin to describe how sorry I am. Your dancing was beautiful, I was not explained the rules of the dance and I didn’t want to disrespect my alpha by looking at another man. Not only that, I will ensure your advisor reinstates your position, I will also ensure that you are paid by the council, and with a pay rise. What happened in there was more cruel than what I have ever seen.” I start with, feeling embarrassed and fearful for the dancer who didn’t deserve that. He looked kind and calm, a man of serenity and I know how devastatingly hard that is to find.

The advisor bows to me in respect, “Consider it all done, Alpha Celestine. Please excuse me while I request what you suggested to the board director of dancers and one of the council members. May I use your name and statements as reference.”

“Yes, whatever you need to help him. You’re dismissed.” I tell him, moving further into the room.

He leaves and soon the dancer looks to me, not my eyes.

I take a seat by his bed, “I am truly sorry.” I whisper, my eyes watering.

He fiddles with his fingers, “You do not need to be. Now that I know it wasn’t me or my dancing, each dancer has some feature they adore but is imperfect to the eyes of the courts. I will wear these lashes proudly.” He whispers.

I hold in a sob, “You shouldn’t have to.” I whisper.

He studies me, “This is not your fault.”

“It is and I will take responsibility for it, you did not at all deserve this.” I tell him, standing and taking a breath, before pacing at the bottom of the bed.

He’s silent, before he asks, “I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but does your mate hurt you?” He sounds worried, hesitant and scared. Scared for me even while he’s sitting in a hospital bed right now with wounds he did not deserve. He spoke so gently, steady in a rock of the chaotic storms outside of this room.

I stare at him, “No.” I lie. He didn’t deserve that either, but trusting someone, even as someone who exuded such a beautiful sense of peace. A tranquil touch to him that made my heart break more, “Do you have a family you’re taking care of?” I ask him, eyes penetrating his.

He stares at me, “Ellie, you can come out, darling.” He murmurs, and sliding out of a separate room holding a small wolf soft toy is a girl with brown hair and blue eyes, those eyes were red-rimmed with tears.

Mine were now too, I purse my lips and look away, “This is Ellie, my daughter. It’s okay, Ellie. She won’t hurt you. C’mere, sweetheart.” He whispers to her, gently leaning over to pick her up when she runs to him, she huddles into his bare chest, not looking older than four-years, she sniffles.

“Her mother passed during birth, she’s the only family I have left I work another job too, council hospitality. I’m Ethan Forrest.” He gently smiles at me, rubbing her back.

“Nice to meet you both. Again, I’m really sorry. I’ll do what I can to fix this.” I promise, I had to leave, I step out of the room before he can say anything, close the door and walk five steps before shakily lifting a hand to my lips and falling, sliding down the wall in pain. I squeeze my eyes closed, entrapped with tears and I let out my small, minuscule sob. It stung my eyes, it burned my throat, it contracted my stomach so awkwardly and consumed my thoughts, I didn’t realise Elias and his group of ridiculous elders were standing there watching.

Elias is the only one with his hood off, “Alpha Celestine.” He bows his head to me in a soft gesture.

I wipe my eyes, standing quickly and facing my back to them, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m checking on my student is what I’m doing. You can turn around, we are not unaccustomed to tears and strong women who feel they should only shed them in privacy.”

“Oh, fuck off, Elias. I have a right to privacy.” I spit. My back still to them.

“You don’t have a right to torture yourself for something you did not have knowledge of.” He murmurs.

“Did you fucking know?” I ask him, turning to look at him now.

He studies me, “It does not matter if I did, you did not know, plausible deniability and the family will be taken cared for, that is something the elders and I can promise you. That and you do have a friendship in us, Celestine. Look, if you are gone too long from the ball, other events that must take action can’t until all individuals are there, listed and checked and there are employees that have to do that checking. Ethan and his daughter are in safer hands than you think, and are out of danger, that I can promise you.” He assures me, eyes of solid promise.

I step forward, “You sat there behind the podium like a monotonic robot, I can’t take your word for anything and I won’t. No matter professor or past colleague, you’ve lost any reliability or trust from me. I will ensure both the child and her father have enough, living and work expenses paid to. I don’t care of your status considering right now, you’ve done nothing but stalk me for the council.” My nostrils flare, the anger emanating from me shouldn’t have just been directed at him, before I could strut past me, his cold fingers grasp my arm and I tense when a sensation shoots up my arm. He must feel it because he rips his hand away in sudden shock, before he masks it.

He stares at me, his entire expression blank as he hides his hand back under his cloak and purses his lips, never straying away from my eyes. I tilt my head at him, “What? Fucking quiet now? You’ve been so talkative with answers, let’s see to this one, how can you ask a question you had no clue needed to be asked? Reina chose to ignorantly remove or dismiss facts I should know about this pathetic illusional ball used to find love and is used as a welcome to these ridiculous tournaments when in fact it’s a trophy expedition or perhaps even a fucking pageant for best ranks amongst clans? You know more than what you’re telling me, than what you conveniently leave out. I know you know what Martin has done to me. Yet you still told me to hold his goddamn arm. Do me a favour, stay the fuck away from me.” I snap at him, shoving his shoulder as I walk past the man who likely had a hand in this.

“Wait.” He says strictly, but a different undertone now. Something more meaningful than just what a colleague express.

I didn’t want to, but I stood there, looking at the window with Criss-cross lines, but still able to see through it to the elevators and waiting areas, “I didn’t know it would happen, Celestine. I would have told you had I believed you were not told by your Beta, which is what is suppose to be done.” He says behind me.

I open the door, “I gave Ethan excuses too, doesn’t make me any less of a bitch either.” I toss over my shoulder, pulling the door closed and taking the elevator back down, to a room that had couples dancing on the floor. A few females were standing to the side, either waiting for a werewolf to sweep them off their feet or to gather scents around the room just to take them home to their packs to exchange possible information, to ensure the possibility of equality and fairness, so even the lowest ranks get a whiff of who was here. Maybe pick up even the smallest of scents from distant packs and take in the information. All through chance.

I make note to send payments to accounts solidified in Ethan’s name. To ensure his daughter gets a full ride and already paid education, to whatever she needs. I’m given a glass of champagne, before beckoned over by a popular set of female wolves, including Serena, and the one blonde I saw across from me, mate to the Beta of the Torrence pack. Her blue eyes study me as I step towards the cushioned seating, before more females joined and soon it was just the female dancers in the room, seating moved more comfortably to the middle, “How are you, Celestine?” Serena asks me gently.

“You were kind to that dancer, Alpha Martin’s Beta should have explained the rules of the dancers. Such sloppy work, that woman even looks like a nightmare. What’s her name? That Reina girl?” Another female asks, polished and too sparkly for my eyes.

I barely give a nod before she sets in, “So, tell us. Is your Alpha as good in the sheets as he is in the battlefield? I saw that one bring down rogue armies like they were weeds in a yard. So entertaining to watch a man get bloody and beautiful in battle, right ladies?” She laughs with the other girls saying thing like the sweatiness of the males in the battlefield turn most of them on.

“I’d loved to be fucked right after a battle.” One giggles.

“Right?! Most think it’s disgusting, but it sounds so hot.” Another laughs.

Serena giggles, “It’s thrilling to a point, the mixture of blood cells down there and mud and grime is dirty but hot all at once? My goddess, the number of times Marcus got all feral after training and almost ripped me apart with his balls. Making me all horny now—oh, unfortunately it’s time, ladies.” She says the last part in disappointed, as a few of the women turn away while I still and look over, before blinking, thinking I was making up the entire thing.

I stare at the dancers that begin giving all the males in the room hot lap dances, grinding and moving in erotic ways while I stand in shock when I see one straddle Martin with her breasts out and he eyes it with lust, gripping her, “What the fuck is this?” I ask, about to step forward when a shield of some kind is between us.

“This is a tradition of the ball. We women must watch to see what our men like.” One female says, taking a bite out of her dessert while the others side glance but can’t hide their anger, their possessiveness.

I blink slow, “Excuse me? Seriously, they’re all fucking cheating on all of you!” I screech.

Serena sighs and steps towards me, “It’s not seen that way here, Celestine. Reina should explain this but she looks too she’ll-shocked to see one of the girls giving Robert a blow job,” She says and I sharply inhale in stunned shock when Reina wipes the corner of her eyes, but watches in an analysing manner.

“It’s called the Re-enactments of old traditions, generations long before, in the original stages where men use to have harems, some still have those, but what must be respected is the dancers during the Horizons of Dawn to Dusk. A language of making love and learning what your mate enjoys, it’s a study and a learning tool, even once the real games begin. See the way the blonde touches my mate’s chest, he enjoys it while he sinks her onto him. Oh look, now Martin has his fingers in his dancer.” She whispers to me, pointing to the disgusting sight of what I’m seeing.

Until I see it.

Not what he’s doing, but a flicker. One of the dancer’s hands in Martin’s hair.

I tilt my head. The mechanism of the glass, which wasn’t even glass at all. I step back up towards it, tapping it, “What are you doing?” The blue-eyed blonde-haired Beta female asks with a croaked voice.

“Does this shield block scents? Can any shield do that?” I question.

“This one obviously can.” Serena tells me gently, stepping up towards me, her fingers squeeze the glass she’s holding as her mate takes a dancer from behind.

“We must accept what is real, Celestine. Males are feral creatures with urges stronger than what we females will ever know. We are creatures of the goddess, we are chosen, we are important to build the next generations, if those we use require the need for outside release that would more so hurt us than anything else, you let them release that anger toward the female dancers. Those dancers were made to react to it, were created to do it. Taken up and taught as children how to pleasure the high ranks to protect the real females doing the work of creating the next generation. It is their duty, and it is our duty.” Serena explains to me softly. Like it’s something all have to accept.

I saw the flicker before.

I grab a butter knife, “Celestine! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

I wring as hard as I can into the shield, it does nothing but bang out of my hand. There’s no flicker. Nothing.

“Find the electric wiring of the shield. Now. Track it with your nose.” I order as many of them as I can. Serena frowns and stares at me, before moving around the shield along with many other women who are curious and based off of my decisions before hand, they follow without much order.

“Something here, it’s buzzing!” One female yells in my direction. I get through the crowd of woman and lean down toward the tile. I press a hand to it and still when it unlocks, opening up to reveal wires. Controls of the shield.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s happening?”

Two sets of women fire questions like bimbo dolls in a dolls house. Ignorant no matter the rooms hiding the secrets and lies they refuse to see because, alas, plausible deniability. The less one knows, the better, the safer, perhaps even the happier, “There’s something not right about this shield. Watch the males, are all the dancers still there?” I question, grabbing the wires and checking the small control system underneath. This glass, it could create some sort of alternate reality, it had to be, I wouldn’t understand why males needed more than what they were getting. Horizons of Dawn to Dusk use to be the considered the ‘in-between’ of things, objects or could be a metaphorical reflection of change between night and day, the transition, colours and alterations made to keep the system of night and day functioning.

To keep an illusion functioning.

To keep this pathetic fucking illusion functioning.

I twists the blue and red wires together, the opposite of what one should do, before I look at the shield. It flickers, the girls all gasp, trying to figure it all out. I look further into the system in front of me. A dial, yellow and orange on one side, blue and purple on the other.

Horizon—horizontally set.

The dial was horizontal and the opposite of this was standing vertical.

I flick the dial and clicks echo. I jolt when the electricity between the wires fizz and the shield snaps open at the in between, in the sheer middle and standing there, all waiting with no dancers in sight, not like a second ago, no smell of sex in the air, absolutely nothing but dead silence among the impressed males.

Councilmen Charles facepalms, “I’m going to have to make these trials harder, two for two, Julius. Dear goddess are you two going to be filthy rich after this. Congratulations once again for solving the riddle of the century-old Glass of Dreams, of Nightmares and illusions that has continuously challenged the female population of these events...you’ve just shown the world yet again, Alpha Celestine Colton, that I need to make these trials harder. Well done, ladies you have all moved to the next level, no male has ever touched one of the dancers, that was in true fact, all one great illusion.” He announces.

Some of the females are relieved, running to their males like their lives depend on it. I’m thanked with respected nods as Serena laughs and hugs me, before running to her lover like he’s her entire fucking world.

The only other female standing behind is the shy and sweet one, who stands there with her eyes set on me. Her Beta steps up hesitantly, “Alice.” He says, stoic but softer for her, I think. The council members bid the room Goodnight. The girl standing beside me turns away in her beautiful red dress, her Beta strides after her and when she does not give him her hand, he follows behind her, crowding her, scattering on his feet, hurt. Maybe even scared.

“You continue to surprise me.” Martin murmurs down to me.

“Why don’t you write that down on a piece of paper, note it in a mental suggestion box in your head then shove it up your anal canal like it’s the only thing that will ever touch your g-spot since it will be, arsehole.” Wow, even my own words made me smile.