Zen watched from under hooded eyes as the little Omega moved quietly around the house, sorting through things as though she had lived there for years. She straightened the cushions, arranged the blankets, and even adjusted the cups on the table. It was as if she had decided that her place was here, and she intended to prove it with silent obedience.
A surge of irritation went through him. He had preferred the version of her who schemed in silence, who watched for weaknesses and plotted escape with sharp eyes and hidden defiance. That Emira had spirit, a fire that sparked against his control. But this one- this honest, eager girl who bent herself to every task, who seemed almost desperate to please him, she unsettled him in a different way. And he did not like it.
"Stop." His voice came out low, a growl that broke the quiet.
