Rejection on the Alpha #1

16. The Glass Of Dreams

(New and edited)
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."