Valerie

Chapter Fifteen

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"And unlike as I believed, no one came to soothe me."

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Aeneas left me at the education center, where the coordinator met me in the lobby. "Ah, Luna, you're back." She greeted me with a bow. "Your mate requested a special treatment during our night sessions. In the day I'll take you to the facility for treatment."

I dropped my coat onto the rack. "What kind of treatments?"

"You'll see. Are you hungry? Have you eaten?"

"I'm all right."

She beamed at me. "Don't worry, we'll feed you when the time comes." She led me away from the usual classroom and down another hall.

"What's the lesson about?"

"Too many things." She opened a door to a little room, no bigger than a storage closet with a toilet in the corner.

"What is this-"

The door clicked locked and the woman was nowhere to be seen. The room didn't have any windows, save the dark window just showed my reflection. One way glass.

"This isn't funny," I shouted, trying the door. Locked. "I demand you let me out. As your Luna-"

A voice came from a speaker. "With authorization from the highest Alpha in the land, King Aeneas Augustus Evans himself, I'm sorry, but I carry out your order."

"But I have no food, no water!"

"Both will be provided to you on a schedule. Sit back, relax and enjoy the radio provided for you."

I snorted, the anger coursing through my blood, but it's trumped by the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. I thought I was making ground. I thought I was playing the game. He must've known the whole entire time. Maybe another gut feeling. I sunk to the ground as the ding of a new lesson filled my ears.

"Lesson twenty-six, submission and the natural order."

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"The pheromones of a mate are a wonderful thing. Wolves--who always release pheromones to communicate fear, sadness, anger, and a wide variety of other emotions--are able to especially pick up those pheromones of a mate. In the heat, the pheromones can elicit all kinds of spiritual feelings."

I couldn't bother covering my ears. At some point, they must've come in and injected me with something, because I woke up to bottles of water and a tray of food on my floor. 

"Your mate volunteered to donate a sample of his pheromones for you to try. Would you like to try?"

"No!" I screamed, so loud my head ached.

"As you wish. Releasing pheromones." I groaned, laying back on the cold, hard floor. The room filled with...it filled with the scent of dominance. He's so haughty, I thought, breathing in deep. Did I like that about him? Did I like the fact I could practically feel him, batting down my insults? No. This invasion of my person was natural to them, maybe, but not to me. But the scent battered on. 

Desire.

Lust.

Something softer and cooler.

Companionship.

It struck a raw chord. Did he actually like talking to me, when I was a servant? Does he like talking to me now?

"Studies suggest pheromones from a mate can help aid in sleep, prolong longevity-"

"I know he's here! I know he's here! Bring him here so I can tear his face off!"

"Reduce stress-"

I grabbed at the air. Reduce stress? This constant blaring would keep me from sleeping, while the scent would wind me into a tight ball of nerves and confusion. If there was anything ever designed to make a heart burst, it was this.

I floated in and out of sleep, not really sleeping as the hours, turned days dragged on. Aeneas was taking his time. I turned on my side. I saw stars. Every so often the speaker would play a sound--a twinkle of music, a voice, a recorded message--and I would look at the industrial lights spinning like fireflies.

"A female wolf's natural place is at the foot of her mate, simply because that is where she is most comfortable. Protected by the world, the war, and the disgusting vitriol, her place is sacred because she is the giver of life. For those reasons, naturally, she is protected and sheltered."

They brought me a meal. Shook me awake, pushed me into the shower, and forced soap into my hand. I washed to my own humming and that of the music above me. It was hideously ugly; all the notes torn up. Modern, they called it. There was nothing modern about it.

"The state of pregnancy is comforting and natural to a female wolf as she feels the reassuring beat of a future, an heir in her body. A female wolf is biologically inclined to seek solace in social relationships over revenge or the settling of grievance and therefore a child is the ultimate companionship."

I went back into the room and had more hours of lessons to listen to. I closed my eyes. What would they do if I started to scream, or if I started spitting at the walls, as prisoners do after hours in solitary? What I stared and spoke to ghosts and other things that don't exist? Would they let me out then? That made me laugh: what would Aeneas do if, after all his work building my body, it was my mind that ruined me?

As my eyes began to close--and real sleep began to come--the volume of the lessons kicked up louder.

"Male werewolves are warriors, protectors, and providers. Any modification to this code is an affront of the moon goddess."

I wedged my fingers into my ears.

"This code was forsaken during the age of man, and subsequently, the earth was destroyed. Even the land could not fathom the world the humans made."

If I slammed my head into the wall and bled would they come then? I lifted my hands above me. If I cracked my fingers?

"It's essential that a female wolf is in good standing with the moon goddess by fulfilling the basic duties of her nature. She must bear children. She lives to do so. And when she is united with her mate, she is at ease like she has never been before."

I did feel like I was cracking, all my bones and whatever was beneath them I think I started to sob about then. And unlike as I believed, no one came to soothe me.