by Logan Fox
She wouldn’t be able to talk with Greg if he went to see Jarred and not her. But Seth seemed intent on arranging the training session; either because he thought she was lying about something, or for some other unfathomable reason.
Maybe Jarred would be too busy. Dear God, that’s all she could hope for. Then Greg could come see her—
“You want to see him, don’t you?” Seth’s voice was low, quiet.
Pearl looked up, hand poised with a scoop of bubbles. Seth had flattened his masterpiece. He sat forward, sending a wave of bubbles toward her.
“I’ll tell Jarred you want to go too. It’ll probably make him clear his schedule.” Seth lifted a finger from the water, pointing at her repeatedly as he nodded slowly. “Jarred liked you. And you liked it. I know. I can see. A lot of girls scream for him to stop. You screamed for him to hit you harder.”
Pearl gave her a head a short, hard shake. “No I didn’t.” She snorted. “Why the hell would I do that?”
Seth chuckled, leaning back against the tub and spreading his arms to either side. Bubbles dripped from the mounds of his biceps, blotting out his tattoos as they slid down and fell back into the water.
“You were in subspace, kitten. Sometimes you don’t remember what happens. Sometimes you remember it different.”
“I didn’t say—” she cleared her throat “—scream anything. I remember his beating fucking perfectly, thank you. And I still have several Jarred-sized hand prints to prove it.”
“No you don’t. It might feel like it, but Jarred doesn’t leave marks unless you want him to. Unless he wants to.”
Pearl squirmed, glancing away from Seth.
Shit.
She really, really hoped Jarred would be too busy for her. For Greg.
When the bath water grew tepid, they got out; Pearl wrapping herself in a towel and Seth drying off before tugging back on his clothes.
He walked her to her room, pausing at the door after switching on the lights above her bed. They cast a soft, yellow glow over her side of the room. The sleigh bed with its dark, gleaming wood and coppery duvet looked somber and inviting.
“Here.”
Pearl turned to him, hand clutching the top of the towel tight around her chest. Seth was holding out the journal and pen her wolf had given her.
She’d forgotten about it.
A stab of guilt flashed through her, rendering her mute as Seth stepped forward and gestured with the journal.
“Take it.”
Pearl nodded quickly, taking the small notebook from him with trembling fingers. She pressed it to her chest, looking up at him with wide eyes.
How could she have forgotten about it?
“The… other stuff,” Seth said, stepping closer. “You should probably ask Gia to help you with. I showed her but… it might not be—” he broke off with an awkward shrug.
Other stuff?
Her brain felt like lumpy soup. What the hell was he—
But then she did remember. And her cheeks burned with sudden, acute embarrassment. Her tail. She had to be wearing her tail the next time the wolf came to see her.
“I’ll ask her,” Pearl managed, her voice tight and uneven.
“Right.” Seth gave a nod and flicked his hand to her bed. “Get dressed. I’ll tuck you in.”
A faint shiver ran through Pearl. For a moment, she stared at Seth, lips parted, journal squeezed against her chest.
Tomorrow would be a week that she’d been at the Fox Pit. Within a week, this block of a man was tucking her into bed at night.
And it felt normal. Comforting, even.
What would he be doing in two weeks? Three?
Pearl gave a small nod. She turned to her dresser, jerking the towel free. The journal she slid under a stack of clothing while she retrieved clean underwear. She could feel Seth’s eyes on her — or perhaps it was just her imagination — while she took out a pair of pajamas and stepped into them.
She wasn’t going to be here in a week.
She couldn’t be, for so many reasons.
Seth had turned down the bed for her, so Pearl slid under the sheet, giving him a small smile. He pulled the sheets to her breasts, tucking them in on either side of her arms, trapping her under the satiny-smoothness.
The bed creaked when he perched on the edge. It was a sound she hadn’t been expecting; nothing in the Fox Pit creaked or groaned, as if everything was brand new, bought yesterday and still smelling of underpaid human labor.
He ran his hand down her hair, her cheek, and pinched the edge of her chin.
“You’re doing good, kitten. You keep this up, you’ll make Tanner very happy.”
She couldn’t care less about what Tanner thought of her, but she could see Seth did. There was a flicker of pride deep in those featureless black orbs of his. And that pride made her chest grow tight.
“Who knows? He might even offer you another month.”
Pearl gave Seth another small nod, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile in return.
“Now go to sleep. And promise me you’ll have good dreams.”
She blinked up at him, unable to produce words. He touched the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip, his eyes falling for less than a second to her mouth, and then he stood.
He switched off her lights using the panel beside her bed’s headboard. Darkness swarmed in, the only light in the room a barely-discernible ambiance that seemed to leak from the lintels themselves.
Pearl watched his wide-shouldered silhouette as he maneuvered around the partition and went to Gia’s bed. He crouched beside it, perhaps even going to his knees, and began whispering to her.
She couldn’t hear what he said. But, she didn’t want to. Because his tone of voice was different now.
With her he’d been a proud parent, a coach watching his team win a game.
But with Gia…
Seth bent his head. There was a soft murmur from Gia, a muffled moan. Pearl stiffened under her sheets, slowly drawing a handful of wadded cotton to her throat.
Gia’s bed didn’t creak when Seth slid onto it.
He stayed for ten — maybe fifteen — sheet-whispering, heart-pounding minutes; almost too long for Pearl to bear, before he rose and left the room. Pearl heard the door close and drew the pillow from where she’d jammed it over her head, glancing over at Gia’s side of the room. Everything beyond the partition was a dark blur, but she could see that Gia’s legs were still up, forming a sharp triangle in the middle of her bed.
The girl let them slide straight with a thump and released a soft sigh.
“He’s not going to let me leave, you know,” Gia whispered.
“What?” The hairs on Pearl’s arms stood erect as goose bumps flashed over her skin.
Gia let out another sigh. Sheets rustled as she changed her position. Another sigh.
“Won’t let me leave.” This, in a low, resigned voice.
Pearl sat up, letting her sheets fall to her lap. “Gia?”
The girl didn’t answer her.
“Gia!” Pearl slid out of bed. The girl didn’t answer.
Should she go over? Should she—
Pearl shrugged away the sudden volley of questions. She’d speak to the girl tomorrow. She had to, anyway. Maybe she’d gotten her hands on some more contraband. They could slip into the broom closet, and Pearl could find out just what the hell Gia’d meant by ‘he won’t let me leave.’
In the dark, standing with her hands clutching her chest, she knew sleep was out of the question. She walked over to the closet and rummaged inside until she found her journal and the golden pen. Running her thumb over the engravings, she got back into bed and switched on her light. A handful of twinkling stars lit up above her, bathing her in a subtle radiance.
Pearl hunkered down between her pillows, lifting her legs and resting the journal on her thighs. She tapped the cool end of the pen against her bottom lip as she stared at the journal’s cover. She ran her fingertips down the dark leather and drew it
open.
The blank page wasn’t white, but a creamy yellow. She touched the pen’s nib to the first line, and began to write.
Today my Master gave me this journal.
The pen went back to her lip; tap, tap, tapping as she thought.
This is my Journal of Submission.
Tap, tap, tap.
What the hell else was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to record every lurid act she and her wolf performed?
No, that didn’t seem right. This was about her submission. Her… acceptance. Isn’t that what Seth had told her when she’d first arrived here? That when you submitted, you accepted the other person’s control over you.
Tap, tap, tap.
On the other side of the room, Gia began snoring softly.
Tap, tap, tap.
Today I learned that disobeying my Wolf means that I will be punished.
She cocked her head, pushing out her lips.
Today I was punished.
Tap, tap, tap.
And I loved it.
10
Good Pain
One week. Pearl stared up at her ceiling, her hand touching the edge of the journal where she’d shoved it under her pillow last night. It was crazy to think that she’d filled more than two pages in it already.
She’d tried to write as if her Wolf wouldn’t read it. Hoping he wouldn’t. But a small part of her knew he would. So she’d had to censor herself. Had to hold back when the pen had begun scratching over the page faster than she could censor.
The last line she’d written kept repeating in her mind. It had been her lullaby before sleep had finally taken her. Had been her mantra when she’d woken up this morning, roused from insubstantial dreams by the sound of the door opening.
I can’t wait to see my Wolf again.
It was a lie, of course. It had to be. Because, just as she knew he would read it and had therefore censored herself, she’d also embellished.
Loved, instead of liked.
Amazing, instead of nice.
She heard two of the girls talking in the den; Gia and Opal. Pearl wrung thoughts of journals from her mind and rose, shoving her writing deep into the back of her closet. Worst hiding place ever, but… the Fox Pit didn’t exactly abound with good hiding places, did it?
She had to corner Gia. The girl had her keycard, something elemental to her half-formed escape plan. The girl also had to tell her how one went about wearing a tail up your butt. Just the basics: butt plugs for newbs.
And she had to find out what the hell was going on with Gia and Seth.
Opal was on the couch in the den, her feet propped on the edge of the coffee table. She had her arms crossed and her mouth twisted as if she’d bitten into a maggot-infested tuna-fish sandwich.
“—tell them that?” Gia was saying.
Both girls glanced up at Pearl as she came into the room. Opal wore the Fox Pit’s standard yellow slacks and jumper; the bright color did amazing things to her olive skin and dark eyes. Gia wore just her nightie. She was perched on the couch’s armrest, her feet flat on the seat cushion beside Opal.
“Heya,” Gia said, giving Pearl a small wave.
“Morning.” Pearl paused, but then gave them a small nod and went into the kitchen. One of them had turned on the coffee pot, but it was still busy dripping into the container. “Can I make you guys some coffee?”
“Sure,” Opal called out. “Almond milk. No sugar.”
“Black,” Gia said.
Pearl poked her head into the fridge. “Black? No cream? No sugar?”
Gia shook her head. “Black.”
“Who’d have thought?” Pearl murmured to herself.
She made three cups of coffee and took them back to the girls, wrestling them from between her fingers to hand them out.
They were silent the entire time she was busy, and still failed to start speaking once she’d taken a seat in the single armchair positioned at an angle to the coffee table and couch.
“So,” Pearl said. “What up?”
“Around here?” Opal snorted. “Dicks and share prices.”
Pearl almost choked on her coffee. Gia let out a small giggle and glanced at Pearl over her shoulder. The girl took a sip of her coffee and slid onto the couch beside Opal.
“Happy Oner,” Gia said.
“What now?” Pearl took a swallow of coffee, screwing up her face.
“Your one week anniversary.” Gia shrugged. “Only three more weeks to go.”
“One for you,” Opal said, giving Gia a sidelong glance. “Looking forward to the Big Blue Nowhere of outside?”
“Yeah.” Gia dropped her gaze to her coffee and began twisting the cup in a big circle, watching the black liquid inside as it reached for the rim of the cup. “Decided I’m going to head back to California.”
“Parents?” Opal’s eyes were fixed on the television now; it was on some cartoon channel, but muted.
“Nah. Think I’ll try my luck on my own. Or get a roomie.”
“You?” Opal gave a bark of a laugh. “You can’t wander around unsupervised.”
“Screw you,” Gia said, but it sounded fond.
“Where in California?” Pearl asked.
Gia turned to her, stared at her for a moment, and shrugged. “Does it matter?”
Pearl took a sip of coffee to mask her sudden lack of words.
“Hatfield going with you?” Opal asked.
Gia swung back to the dark-haired girl with wide eyes and a slack mouth.
“Shut up!”
“Jus’ askin’.”
“None of your beeswax, Opal.”
“That a yes?”
“No! I’m going by myself. Me. Alone. No one else. I don’t want anyone else.” Gia slammed her coffee cup down on the table, splashing coffee over the wood, and shot up in a huff.
Their bedroom door rattled when she slammed it shut.
“Drama queen.” Opal let out a sigh and rested her head back, swiveling it to face Pearl. “So, what’s your story, Morning Glory?”
“Don’t have one. Not really.” Pearl shrugged. “Who’s Hatfield?”
“Seth. Seth Hatfield.” Opal lifted her head and looked at the still vibrating bedroom door. “She can act as huffy as she wants, but that little slut’s been leading him on since she got here. Can’t blame her, I guess. It’s just who she is. Plus, around here? You gotta cover all your bases.”
Opal took a noisy swallow of her coffee cocked her chin up, watching Pearl with large, brown eyes almost the same color as her drink.
“Why’d Tanner turn over your room the other night?”
It was Pearl’s turn to shrug. “Thought I took something, I guess.”
“A keycard?”
“Something like that.” Pearl’s cheeks began to grow warm. Shit, but she made a terrible liar. “I’ve never seen him so pissed off. He looked…”
“Psychotic?” Opal laughed again. She didn’t seem to let out more than one second of laughter before cutting it off, as if she wouldn’t allow herself the pleasure.
How did this acerbic girl manage to please a wolf? Or was she one of the girls that took care of the hares that came here to be dominated? Pearl couldn’t imagine Opal with an ounce of submissiveness.
“It’s a good word,” Pearl said.
“You ain’t seen the half of it. I swear he’s bipolar or manic depressant or some’in. But his moods are—” she paused, taking a sip of coffee as she thought “—erratic. You can’t say ‘like day and night’, because that hints at a pattern.”
“And Caden?” Pearl asked. “He asks for you a lot. Is he better or worse?”
“You can’t compare them like that. They’re too different. Caden…?” Opal pressed the rim of the coffee cup against her bottom lip, making a poor attempt at hiding a small smile.
Pearl stared at her, cup frozen half way to her mouth. “Opal?”
“Huh?” The girl’s hooded eyes flashed open, and she drained the rest of her coffee. “Mmm,
he’s a lot more interesting than Tanner. Tanner’s an animal. Caden’s a gentleman.”
Pearl was still gaping at Opal when the girl stood and stretched out, lifting her arms over her head and bending backwards a few degrees.
“Speaking of, I’m off. Yoga. Then some tantric whatnot Caden’s trying out. Catcha later, slut.”
Opal left, climbing the stairs two at a time and humming under her breath. Pearl was still wide eyed when Gia peeked out from their bedroom.
“She gone?”
“Yup.”
Gia came out of the room, furtively scanning the den. With a slow nod, the girl came up to Pearl. She had a hand pressed to her stomach and her eyes were as skittish as pigeons on a pavement.
“What you got there?” Pearl asked, her voice not as steady as she’d have liked.
“You know what it is. And I know you want it. So what are you going to give me for it?”
The keycard?
“I don’t have anything, Gia,” she said dryly.
“Not true.” Gia tsk-tsked her, perching on Pearl’s armrest.
“Fine. I’ll play. What do you want for it?” Pearl tried not to let irritation creep into her voice, but it was almost impossible while staring into those sapphire eyes of Gia’s.
“I’m leaving soon, when my contract’s up,” Gia said, head bobbing.
“Okay…” Pearl leaned away from the girl as Gia moved closer. “I still don’t—”
“But he won’t let me leave, see?”
Invisible spiders skittered up Pearl’s spine. “Who?”
“You know who. He wants me to stay. But I have to go. I’ve—”
“I don’t know who. Tell me. Tanner? Caden?”
Gia blinked at her. “No, stupid.” She lowered her voice. “Seth. Seth won’t let me go. He wants me to stay.”
Pearl wanted to tell the girl it was her fault. If Opal was right, and Gia’d been leading him on, then she’d effectively slow-boiled herself. But… she needed that damn keycard.
“Okay. So what do you want from me?”
Gia took a breath that puffed out her chest. She pursed her lips, leaned in even closer, and whispered, “Fuck him.”
