Once at home, Therion began to tug uselessly at his bound wrists. The cuffs stinging and causing an uncomfortable itch under his skin. He was sure to bruise after this. It also didn't help that he was never had breakfast, or dinner no that he thought about it and his stomach growled, begging to be fed.
He didn't know whether to follow Ashriel back to his room or return to the quarters. Just on cue, a lady holding a tray of roasted beef passed, the aroma threatening to kill Therion as his mouth watered at the sight. If Ashriel had noticed this, he made no comment.
Ashriel made his way to his room and Therion seemed inclined to followed him, not knowing what else to do. Ashriel felt, rather than saw the other man follow him, even to his room. He said nothing as he disappeared into his walk-in closet with a change of clothes.
Therion looked around the room it looked the same way it did yesterday, neat and pristine. Unnecessarily big. Everything seemed to have its own place. He rocked back and forth on his toes, ankles aching from the cuffs there, when a bottle nudged his feet toward the edge of the bed, almost under it. He bent to pick it up and frowned when he saw that the bottle had no label. It looked as though someone had ripped it off.
Therion was about to return the bottle to its former position on the floor when ashriel walked out the door and had to quickly slip it into his pocket. He would return it later, he told himself.
Later, would have to be later, Therion thought helplessly, not five minutes as he desperately hoped as he followed Ashriel to the dining halls. He would have been elated if his hunger wasn't dulled by the bottle in his pocket, the weight a constant reminder of his minor slipup which could most likely lead to a fatal consequence.
The Alpha took his place at the head of the table, and simply pointed to the space beside the feet of his chair "Sit"
Therion's legs might have been hurting but if this was the price to relieve the strain then he would gladly stand. Ashriel said nothing more taking note of Therion's disobedience and Therion could agree that his silence was inadeptly worse.
A worker dressed as a waitress walked in and served Ashriels dish and Therion snorted as he saw the younger man wear an actual napkin before digging in. and who uses knives and forks?
The worker returned with another plate this time and stood expectantly at Therion. The food was undoubtedly for him; he sneaked a glance at Ashriel who paid him no mind. The worker and him stood awkwardly for a few seconds as Therion realized with morbid horror that she was waiting for him to sit.
On the floor.
Shame burned through him, hot and strong as he finally sat, telling himself he only did it so the girl could go back to what she was doing. And he was right, as soon as he sat on the ground, the meal was placed in front of him.
He face blanched with more horror as he noticed the cutleries, or lack of thereof. After some minutes of careful thinking and shame-embracing, he leaned forward and picked a piece of meat into his mouth using his mouth. He lapped at it quickly so as not to let it drop to the ground but from another person's view, it would like he looked like a starving dog.
Therion looked like a starving dog, Ashriel though deliriously as he watched the bigger man eat of his plate with no utensils. He swore to disgrace and degrade the man any way he could not stopping till he destroyed any once of pride he possessed. Then he could finish him off.
Just then a group of people walked into the hall, all clad in uniform.
Workers apparently. The maid from earlier who served them, retrieved Ashriels plate while her colleagues stood in a horizontal queue in front of the table.
Therion watched mortified as the alpha dabbed his napkin at the corners of his mouth and began addressing the small crowd, The maid had returned also, standing beside him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his meal so she could take his plate as well.
"I've called you here because of an impromptu staff meeting".
The bastard. What time had he called them. Therion was sure he only called them here, in the dining room, at this particular time, to make a show of his humiliation. He felt anger simmer in his veins, his scent shifting instantly to something hot and livid.
Ashriel took notice of this and smiled wider. He didn't know he would get so much exhilaration out of wounding the man up but now, he realized he had not known true joy.
Therion, not wanting to keep the maid waiting bent and pulled at the last streak of meat on his plate and gobbled it down quickly. Looking no less rabid than a well, rabid dog.
This seemed to amuse one of the workers and Therion would have pleasure torturing him in his dreams.
"That will be all, Sirus" He called to the guard posted at the door, "take the beast". The same guard as yesterday it seems, Sirus, accompanied, Therion back to his cell, where he made him strip down to his birth suit to get hosed down.
He remembered the bottle, no longer than his last finger in height, and about the width of his index and pointer. If he left his clothes, they, would undoubtedly be searched.
Therion quickly distracted the guard. In that split second, he propped the bottle into his mouth, walking into the shower room where Sirus held a hose and sprayed him to his heart content. With no bath sponge or soap, the blackclaw exile was forced to use his hands to scrub his skin. Trying to get himself as clean as possible.
He returned to his cell to see a new set of clothes waiting for him. It was nothing new, the same brown pants and brown shirt as before. You wouldn't even know they were different until you took a whiff of the smell. New, not sweaty as his previous one.
He transferred the bottle to his new pockets. He had inspected the contents , it seemed to contain some sort of white pills. The smell didn't give off anything either. They were most likely anti depressants. Someone as moody and vile as the alpha, it wouldn't be a surprise if he needed them.
His jaw ached a little and he used his hands to form a make shift pillow for his head. The bed , or mattress really was a bit uncomfortable but nothing he couldn't manage. He waited till the lantern in the cell died out before he began his night time ritual. A thousand push ups. It had been inclined to him so much that on some days he couldn't sleep without the mind to body eercise.
Nine hundred and ninety eight, nine hundred and ninety nine, one thousand.
Muscles burning and arms aching. He hit the mattress with a loud thud and fell asleep almost immediately.