“It might be obvious, but I need to hear it from him,” Elijah countered. “And I need to hear it in detail.”
“He touched her.” Oscar jerked his thumb back at Theodore, who was now reaching under his bed for a first aid kit.
“In detail,” Elijah repeated irritably, tapping away at his phone screen.
“I could give you details,” Theodore offered, slapping the kit between his legs, and rummaging through it. Despite his mocking tone, he didn’t expand on the offer.
Smart move.
“Not those details.” Elijah glared at them both through the lenses of his reading glasses. “What exactly triggered you, Oscar? And what did the surge feel like?”
“You know what?” Oscar gripped the top of Elijah’s phone, pulling it down from his face. “It felt just like how I always feel like.”
“So … significantly unbalanced.” Gabriel pulled his own phone out, making notes while Elijah stared back at Oscar with an infuriatingly patient expression.
“Yeah.” Oscar smirked at him. “Like that, but with less of the usual nonsense holding me back.”
“How different was it from your surge in Isobel’s hotel room during the break?” Elijah asked.
“Well, I didn’t want to fuck Theodore,” Oscar admitted, completely deadpan.
“Wait, what?” Moses frowned, looking between them all. Theodore was making a low, grumbling sound. “You surged around Isobel?”
“Yes,” Gabriel answered for Oscar. “When the chain appeared.”
“Why don’t I know about this?” Theodore demanded, springing from his bed, the first aid kit forgotten.
“Because you’re not her nanny,” Moses shot back, annoyed, before he shifted his attention to Elijah and Gabriel, who both seemed to be perfectly aware of everything. They had probably written half a research paper on it and were waiting on further data to finalise their hypothesis.
“The surge in the hotel room was because you found out Isobel was hurt,” Elijah said, reading from—yep, his notes. “And this time, because someone else touched her.”
“Proprietary aggression.” Gabriel sighed.
“Should have known it would be a problem with him,” Elijah agreed. “He doesn’t have a lot to his name.”
“Don’t fucking need this.” Oscar began striding for the door, but Elijah quickly stepped in his way, holding up his palms.
“None of us need this.” Elijah gentled his tone as he took off his glasses and shoved them into his pocket. “But I warned you all what would happen with so many Alphas living together in such close quarters. It was manageable before …”
“Isobel,” Gabriel supplied.
Elijah shot him a narrow look. “I know her name.”
“Then use it.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Oscar interjected, making his tone sound bored when it was actually highly entertaining to watch the wonder twins split their shared brain cell in half to trade barbs.
“It was manageable before Isobel,” Elijah ground out. “We need to get this under control before we all spiral. You.” He jammed a finger into Oscar’s chest. “Up your training time. Up your sparring time. Don’t back down until someone’s bleeding. We need to get your aggression under control.”
“Was planning on it anyway,” Oscar responded in the least aggressive tone he could be bothered to muster. So … his normal tone, really.
“I’ll write up a new schedule for everyone.” Elijah sighed, nudging his reading glasses back on and moving around Oscar to reach for the door. “I think we’re going to need to add an extra small group session with Mikki.”
“Fine by me.” Oscar shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.
Elijah gave him a narrow-eyed look before opening the door and waving at the hallway. “After you.”
“No, after you.” Oscar gave his best imitation of a smile.
Gabriel snorted. “We aren’t leaving you alone in here, Oscar.”
“Fine,” Oscar snapped. “I was hoping to spare all your delicate sensibilities, but …” He strode back to the bed, snatched up Theodore’s hand, and snapped two fingers back as the younger Alpha tried to get away.
The break was nice and clean.
Hardly aggressive.
“Sweet dreams, everyone.” Oscar grinned around the room, striding for the door.
The violence eased something inside him, and he couldn’t help but feel a spark of admiration for Theodore, who managed to not make a single sound and was still holding onto an ominous silence.
Hopefully, he was planning revenge.
That could be fun.
3
Chains And Choke-Holds
Isobel didn’t see Kilian for weeks. He seemed to disappear entirely. Even Theodore was distant, spending more and more time training or practising … though he was still at every one of the small group sessions with Easton every morning. The Alphas were very careful to keep her surrounded, while still somehow maintaining their distance. She saw them all daily, and at least one of them had transferred into all of her classes, but they avoided the topic of Kilian, and she was too scared to push for more information.
Reed was as distant as the professors during their piano lessons, and Easton had upped the ferocity of their small group sessions—for everyone except Isobel. The others weren’t even pretending to do vocal training anymore and were simply beating each other up.
Brutally.
They dragged themselves out of each session panting and bruised, completely sapped of energy. She was too intimidated by Easton to ask what was going on, and Theodore artfully evaded the question whenever she dared to bring it up.
Ironically, the only Alpha she felt any normalcy with anymore was Niko. He called her out of her dorm room for training sessions a few times a week—eventually taking the place of her physiotherapy sessions at the medical centre—and she was really starting to enjoy his company. Especially after seeing him let loose on the other Alphas during Easton’s sessions. It was now painfully obvious just how drastically he was holding back on her.
Like now.
“Again,” he said, hauling her up. There wasn’t even a drop of sweat on his brow.
Her shirt was already sticking to her skin. She groaned, planting her hands on her knees. “Just a minute.”
She had gone back to her full academy schedule only a week ago, after several weeks of being banned from dance classes and practises. Her body was struggling with the increased amount of exercise.
“Take a break.” Niko reached over the ropes, grabbing two water bottles, and tossing one to her. He sank to the mat, stretching his legs out and draining half the bottle before recapping it and rolling it away.
She gulped the cool water, collapsing opposite him and trying to rub out the cramp in her calf with her free hand. He rolled his striking eyes at her, gripping her ankle and hauling her closer so that her leg landed over his lap. She almost sloshed water all over herself.
“You aren’t one of my surrogates,” she said. “You don’t need to do that.”
He gave her a flat, bemused look. “No, I’m not. I’m your trainer.”
“I’m too sweaty.” She tried to pull her leg away again, but he held firm, his brows dropping lower.