Marked

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 17

A knock on the door caught my attention, I opened it thinking it was Viktor since he left me alone. Only to find a well-dressed man in a suit and tie, his presence both commanding and reassuring. "I'm your assistant assigned to you," he introduced himself, a polite smile on his lips. "If you need anything, as well as to contact your mates." My mind was still racing, and I nodded absently, suddenly aware of my stomach's loud protest. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and I felt a flush of embarrassment wash over me. "Food," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. Zefary, as he introduced himself, chuckled softly, his smile unfaltering. "I can take you to the Omega Center," he offered, and I gratefully accepted, eager to quell the rumbling in my belly.

Following Zefary, I stepped into the elevator, the familiar setting doing little to ease my nerves. As we descended, the doors opened to reveal a stunning area bathed in natural light, thanks to tall windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the grounds outside. The space was beautifully designed, with comfortable seating that seemed to invite relaxation, yet I felt an underlying tension as we approached a door marked as the dining room. Inside, I found a scene that was both inviting and intimidating. A few people were scattered about, some eating peacefully, while others were engaged in conversation, their food being carried by attendants. Zefary explained that this was where meals were served, and if I wanted my food delivered to my room, a maid would be available to assist. I nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the formality of it all, and chose a table far from the rest of the Omegas, hoping to find some comfort in solitude.

Just as I settled in, a woman approached with a notepad in hand, her expression professional but slightly intimidating. "Sir, what would you like?" she asked, and I found myself startled by her directness. "Um, I... pancakes?" I stammered, feeling as though I had just ordered from a high-end restaurant rather than a casual dining area. The atmosphere was suffocatingly formal, and I couldn't help but wonder about the staff—did they earn a decent wage for this service? "Of course! What drink?" she continued, and I felt my heart race. "Oh, um, orange juice," I replied, hoping for something refreshing to wash down the pancakes.

To my dismay, she immediately countered, "Milk, actually; your mates demand it." The words sent a wave of confusion through me. Who decided what I drank? "No, I want orange juice," I insisted, feeling a flare of irritation. "I'll get you milk, sir," she said with unwavering politeness before quickly leaving, leaving me alone with my frustration. It was becoming painfully clear that I would not have any control over my life. I looked to Zefary, but he turned, leaving me alone at the table. He soon returned with a tray. He placed it in front of me, revealing a stack of pancakes and a glass of milk. "I hope this will suffice," he said with a gentle smile, though I could sense the underlying expectation that I would comply.

I took a bite of the pancakes, which were surprisingly delicious, but the milk remained untouched. My thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of the control the Alphas seemed to exert over every aspect of my life. Just as I was about to take another bite, a group of people entered the dining room, and I noticed them walking toward me.

They were clearly Alphas; it was obvious by the way they walked. One of them, a tall man with piercing eyes, approached my table. "You're the new Omega," he stated rather than asked, his tone leaving no room for doubt. I nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and defiance. "I'm Marcus," he introduced himself, extending a hand. I shook it, noting the firm grip. "Welcome to the Omega Center. I trust you'll find everything to your liking." His words were polite, but there was an edge to them that made me uneasy.

"Thank you," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I'm still getting used to everything." Marcus nodded, his gaze intense. "You'll adapt. We haven't been told who you belong to, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts once more.

As I finished my meal, the unease from my encounter with Marcus lingered. I couldn't wait to retreat to the relative safety of my room. The dining room, with its formal atmosphere and watchful eyes, felt suffocating. I stood up, and Zefary, ever attentive, was immediately by my side. "Ready to head back?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm. I nodded, grateful for the escape.

We walked to the elevator in silence, the tension from the dining room still hanging in the air. As the doors closed and we began our ascent, Zefary broke the silence. "It's best to stay away from Marcus," he advised, his voice low and serious. "He's known for being... brutal. Your mates wouldn't like it if you interacted with him." His words sent a shiver down my spine. The warning was clear, and the implications were unsettling. "Why is he so... violent?" I asked, trying to understand the dynamics at play.

Zefary sighed, his expression thoughtful. "The Alphas have their ways. Marcus, in particular, believes in beating as the best control and discipline. It's his way of maintaining order; the Omegas he claims never last long." I nodded, absorbing the information. The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the hallway leading to my room.

The familiar surroundings brought a small measure of comfort, but the unease remained. "Thank you, Zefary," I said as we reached my door. "For everything." He smiled, a reassuring presence in this strange new world. "It's my job to help you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." I entered my room, closing the door behind me with a sense of relief. The encounter with Marcus and Zefary's warning weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I had to be careful to navigate this new reality with caution. But for now, I was just grateful to be back in my room, away from the prying eyes and the suffocating control of the Alphas.