Bound

Chapter 10

"This beef is overdone." Simon's cutlery landed on his plate with a clatter. "I can't stomach it. What else is there to eat?"

"Salmon, Alpha Northfell."

"Fish? Is that all?"

"Yes, Alpha Northfell."

With a petulant sigh, Simon threw his napkin onto the loaded plate. "Clean up here," he shoved back his chair. "And stop biting your nails. It's a disgusting habit."

Nyah whipped her hand down and buried it between her knees. She hadn't even realised she'd been biting her nails. She'd kicked the old habit as a nine-year-old, after her father threatened to withhold pocket money. "Sorry, Alpha Northfell."

Simon stomped out of the dining room.

Nyah gathered the dishes, carrying them through to the kitchen as had been ordered. She'd barely taken four bites of her own meal, and now she'd have to watch it slide off the plate into the trash as her body obeyed the clean-up command.

"Nyah."

The wobbling stack nearly fell from her grasp when she looked up to see Michael standing at the open back door.

"Hey," he frowned, crossing the kitchen to unload her. "How are you? I haven't seen you in days. What's been going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm great," she lied smoothly, as had been instructed.

Michael gave her a careful look. "Really? Because I—."

"Yes, really."

"Okay." Unconvinced, he carried the plates over to the sink. Nyah followed, desperate for her body to override Simon's orders so she could alert Michael to her situation. He set the plates down and turned to look at her.

See me, she begged, smiling up at him. Please see through this pretence! You know this isn't me! Please, Michael!

"So, you and Simon," his frown thickened. "You're, um . . ."

"United," her silky reply announced. "As it turns out, we both want the same thing, so it's only natural we work together to achieve it." Her voice sounded so light and matter-of-fact. It terrified her. Internally, her true voice screamed for help, begged Michael to see the truth. He was the first person she'd laid eyes on since Simon had trapped her in the house, and having her body obey Simon while her mind thrashed and screamed for help was torment.

"It's, well . . . you've surprised us all," he admitted, ducking to get her attention as hands obediently stacked the dishes. "You've done a complete one-eighty on Simon. Only last week you were calling him the devil incarnate and now . . ."

"And now I can see what is best for this pack, and I will do what I can to achieve it." As the words spewed from her mouth she suddenly knew what it felt like to be possessed. She wanted to grab Michael and shake him, or even gesticulate in some way that would alert him to how Simon controlled her, but her hands remained occupied with the tap and detergent bottle.

"That's my darling Nyah." Simon filled the kitchen door. He must have flung himself down the stairs on hearing Michael. "She's a credit to her father, isn't she, Michael? He'd be proud to see her acting so selflessly."

Nyah returned a watt-filled smile as Simon came to her side.

"Did you want to see me, Michael?"

Michael pulled a set of folded papers from his back pocket. "Patrol schedules," he explained, handing the sheets over.

"Thank you." Simon didn't look at the papers; instead he fixed an expression which clearly said 'is that all?' onto Michael.

"Right, um, yes, goodnight, Alpha Northfell." Michael dared another frown at Nyah. "See you soon." With a glance between them, he ducked back out into the dark garden.