My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas

After Luther's heat, I started to be more careful around him.

No, that isn't exactly right.

I started avoiding him- that's more accurate.

Strangely enough, it was not another strategy, but rather a pause for me to think.

Since he came in, my thoughts had been disheveled and I discovered feelings I didn't know I was capable of.

But 27 years old is not exactly the age to play Christopher Columbus with my emotions.

So I took a step back and analyzed my symptoms.

Every time Luther is around me:

My heart twitches out of my chest the closer he is to me.

My steady surgeon-hands vibrate uncontrollably.

I am sweating and I'm light-headed like I am a drunkard.

It could be a brain bug. It could be an allergy.

But the most rational two things that could provoke these symptoms-

Fear or attraction.

And God is not scared of anyone.

So it is the latter one.

I am attracted to Luther Wilkers.

Could it be a pheromone reaction? Unlikely.

We should not even have an effect on one another since we are both born omegas.

My transformation to an artificial alpha modified my pheromones to attract omegas to some degree, but way less than a born one.

That's why I injected my pheromones into Lurther's blood and subjected him to continuous exposure.

To make sure he develops some dependency on me.

But the other way around?

Luther's pheromones affecting me? It's very much impossible.

But if it's not chemical attraction, then-

Am I in love with him?

It could be just physical interest as well. 

Yet, I held back on numerous occasions when I could have-

It's not that either. I doubt my inner gentleman was awakened after I traumatised the poor guy out of his mind.

That leaves the last and the worst outcome-

I am in love with him.

How childish.

What a bad taste in men I have as well.

I am used to not being hormonal. Sensitive. Soft.

I correlated those kinds of emotions as omega traits. Weaknesses I've left behind.

This is bad news. The only good side is that every disease can be treated.

But how to treat this one?

I avoid any contact and hope it passes away like an allergy.

Or I go into exposure therapy and I become attached to Luther's hip in hopes it slowly fades as a trauma.

I hope for the first treatment to show improvement. I am not about to be dependent on someone's attention.

That's pitiable. 

So I can only wish, for Luther's sake, that we don't get there.

Needless to say, it would end up with him at my feet, on a leash.

Or dead.

The most effective way to get clean up as a junkie, is to eliminate the drug source. Break up with your dealer.

Yet, I can kill Luther. He is the seed of my perfect plan. But I could force him into a coma.

"I want a date."

Huh?

Oh.

The air feels much heavier than usual. It pressed on my lungs painfully, shortening my breath.

It could be some leaked chemical from one of my masterpieces. After all, accidents like that can happen in taxidermy.

But somehow I doubt that. The cause was probably Luther- freshly out of the shower and the towel that was hanging for its dear life around his waist.

Great.

Just great.

I need to manage this situation well. One slip and Luther will get control over me. Human emotions are such a lowly curse.

My best option right now? Avoid eye contact and act indifferent.

I kept my head down in the paperwork. Fair to say, it wasn't even paperwork. It was just old research I thought I could use in case I needed to put Luther in a coma.

I raised a brow, trying not to be too dismissive of him.

"What are you on puppy?"

I kept my tone cold.

Redundant. It made my walking headache come to my desk and toss on the floor all my documents.

I am screwed. Why else would I find this little tantrum for my attention so endearing?

He wants me that badly. Very well.

I shifted my position in my chair and pinned my gaze on him. It stuck to him naturally. Like the little drops of water still dripping on his abdomen.

Such a beautiful flower he had on it. Untouched and unbloomed.

Am I staring?

"I want a date."

He wants outside.

"We could watch a movie tonight."

"No. I want out!"

His voice is trembling. Is this your attempt to escape, Luther?

Didn't you almost jump out the window last time you left me?

"Luther."

I tried to keep my tone calm and gentle. 

Had to prepare for the coma soon. He is getting too -

Rebellious.

"I want to go out. At the movies. At a restaurant. At the park. To feel some sunshine. I am morphing into a cockroach!"

I got up. It was the perfect excuse to touch him and I would have been a fool not to seize the opportunity.

A junkie is a junkie after all. 

I softly brushed his arms with my fingers, his legs, I grabbed his head and moved it left to right. And he let me. 

Such an obedient little pup.

"You don't look like a cockroach to me."

"I'm bored"

My puppy barks so loudly just for a walk? Should I indulge it? Should I tease him more?

The pout he performed so dramatically sold me on the latter.

Maybe a light threat? Just enough to send a shiver down his bare spine.

"Such a first-world problem. Would you have preferred to be sent back to the white room?"

"Like you wouldn't miss me."

Luther already suspects he has an upper hand on me. I need to speed up my beautiful apocalypse. Until this heretic destroys my up to be kingdom.

"Hmm. Have I neglected you, dear wife?"

"You could have been more appreciative of my breakfast."

Now that he mentioned it, Luther has been more attentive with me. Making breakfast, trying to cuddle, pouting when I leave him alone.

Would it be too much of a wishful thinking to hope he has the same disease as me?…

"They don't taste like spit anymore." 

"You're welcome." he whispered proudly.

"I think I liked them more before." 

Despite the cold air, his face got flushed. A small whiff of his pheromones escaped his grip.

I still have power over him.

Good.

I stopped myself from a relieved sigh at the exact time it was about to escape my throat.

War is not over yet.

"Fine. Where do you want to go?"

"Really?"

His tone pitched a new note. Is he trying to be cute for me?

"I want boba tea and a walk. A long walk."

"Are you a child?"

"Are you a grumpy old man with rheumatism? What's wrong with a walk and a sugary drink?"

I am only a few years older than him. Is that how he sees me?

I can feel my nails digging into my palms. I am losing control over my facade.

I'm betraying my own emotions-

"Next time I'll ask for a trip to the Bahamas."

I let my chuckles fill the room. 

Some recognition for this lovely idiot. Just enough for him to feel safe and slip.

"Fine. I have some business tomorrow outside. If you'll sit tight like a good boy in the lobby and wait for me, we'll get you your diabetic drink and the long walk."

"I want the drink first."

Oh? 

"Since when are you so demanding?" I thought out loud.

I caressed a string of his curly hair behind his ear. I just wanted to enjoy that barely held arrogance act on the verge of breaking.

That trembling Adam's apple.

Those expecting plump lips.

And the smirk they formed-

And the bratty whisper it escaped from it:

"Since I know you'll comply. You know, like a good boy."

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Luther Wilkers!

My spoiled, cheeky, lovely wife.