Put Me In My Place | MxMxM

Chapter 05

At first, Zane didn't want to think much of it; it was probably the summer's heat getting to his head. So he went about his day in bed trying to concentrate on the flat-screen TV in front of him that showed a stupid cartoon about a singing boy and his ugly-ass guitar who traveled into the world of the dead for whatever reason. Zane couldn't care. It wasn't until a sudden piercing ache rippled down his lower stomach — almost like an electric shock—that realization settled in.

He was experiencing the first symptoms of Heat.

"Shit, shit—fuck," he cursed under his breath while he scrambled off the bed and raced for the bathroom when his flesh started to throb, every inch of him igniting like an inferno.

The minute he reached the bathroom sink, a shuddering gasp left his mouth before he opened the faucet and splashed his face with water. It hadn't been a minute since he started getting the symptoms, and yet his face was already caked in his own sweat—drowning in it.

For a moment, he couldn't believe this was happening—not now.

It was happening, though, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He wouldn't dare call Lorenzo and Darius. They had both decided to stop him from using suppressants. They said it was ruining his health and that he was slowly killing himself because he had been on it for so long—for his whole life. They didn't know he had no choice. Being an omega was a fucking curse Everyone thought of him as second-class even if he had everything! —power, wealth, alphas who would drop to their knees just by the click of his fingers. At the end of the day, everyone still saw him as nothing. The only way he could be seen as an equal was to use suppressants and not let his hormones get in the way of work.

Coming off the drug would only cause more damage than good.

He would suffer unimaginable pain, and obviously, the two alphas wouldn't help him since they refused to touch him. They were probably waiting for this day to come—to watch him wither in agony, waiting for him to beg them for their cocks and knots like some mindless, stupid omega. And they would give him nothing. Would he beg, though? No. No. Damn them both! He wouldn't beg. He didn't need their nonexistent help. He would rather suffer alone. Yes. He would go through his Heat with strength and dignity. They could go shove their cocks up each other's asses for all he cared.

By nightfall, Zane lay naked in bed; he couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak, he couldn't move—he could hardly see, and the room appeared dark despite the lights having been on.

When another scorching ache coiled in his lower stomach with sparks bolting down his spine, Zane squeezed his eyes shut and screamed an agonizing wail.

He had lowered himself like a pathetic omega. He had touched himself and fucked himself with his fingers, and he came countless times until his fingers appeared crinkled and damp with his slick. When his fingers started trembling, he lay on his stomach, reducing himself to a moaning, groaning mess while chewing into the sheets and rutting into a pillow, trying to get some sort of relief, but nothing worked!

It pained him to admit it, but he needed help.

With a deep inhale, he opened his eyes and called out in a whispered tone, "Lorenzo?...Da—Darius?"

The two alphas couldn't hear him, though; they had not returned. Or maybe this was their plan all along—to leave him to punish? They were cruel—crueler than Zane could ever be.

Zane gritted his teeth before staggering off the bed with the sheets wrapped around his waist. He needed to get to the door; he needed to call someone—anyone to help him. Maybe one of the guards could get him some suppressants if he pleaded with them.