Sauter (Ironside Academy, #3)(71)
Rope bondage and torture.
Artistic expression and humiliation.
Degradation and meditation.
She bobbed her head, trying to visualise what Kalen was talking about before realising they were laying out her options before her, waiting for her to decide.
She could shadow Gabriel or Elijah and watch them torture people, or she could shadow Kalen and watch him tie people up. It didn’t sound like Mikel and Oscar were on the table as options, and she was coming to the uncomfortable realisation that Mikel might have been as scarred as he was from those fights, and she wasn’t sure she had the stomach to watch it happen night after night.
“How often?” she asked quietly.
“Generally once a week.” Mikel tipped out of his chair, leaning over her to snatch the cherry from the floor. His stormy scent flooded over her as he popped it into his empty glass and resettled in his armchair. “Kalen could always transfer somewhere else, but his fetish room might present a more … private and controlled environment for you—if slightly confronting. He has a firm hand over his audience. He can’t control everyone else in the wider club if he decides to become a floater for you. We don’t know exactly why they wanted to recruit you so early, so playing it safe might be a good idea.”
“Mhmm.” She chewed on her lip as she nervously turned to properly face Kalen. She wasn’t sure if there was any kind of formality required, but she didn’t want to do it wrong. “Will you be my sponsor?”
His lips firmed into an unyielding line, approval rushing over his expression fast enough that she was sure she had misread it when it disappeared. He wasn’t saying anything, and she wondered if she had to say more to appease their concerns.
Whatever they were feeling, it wasn’t negative, because there was only her own nervousness churning in her stomach. Either they were feeling nothing at all, or they were expelling an impressive amount of effort to keep their feelings under lock so that she wouldn’t be influenced during what was clearly an important conversation for them. That fact alone stopped her from lowering her wall and reaching out to feel their emotions against their will.
Kalen let out a short breath. “If you were one of our Alphas, this conversation wouldn’t even be happening. We would decide what was best for you based on your individual capabilities and needs, and we would assign you to whoever suits you best. That’s how we work here. It’s the only way any of this works.”
“We’re at a bit of a loss,” Mikel added, his tone low. “We don’t know enough about you. If we assign you to Kalen and then later find out that you can’t handle—”
“I can handle anything,” she interrupted, straightening her spine. “Put me in the ring with Oscar, I don’t care.”
Mikel’s grin twitched into being, his eyes sparkling. “Maybe another time. Please understand what we’re saying here, Isobel. We’re talking about throwing a virgin into a kink club and asking her to swim.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again, an embarrassed sound catching in the back of her throat. “I’m not a child,” she muttered. “And I have some experience. What makes you think I’m a virgin? Because nobody would want to date a Sigma?”
The last part was tacked on with a wince, and she wished she could have taken it back as soon as she said it.
“Because you’re the colour of the rug,” Kalen remarked calmly, pointing to the Persian carpet beneath them, where scarlet thread twisted in bright patterns. “And Moses was your first kiss, wasn’t he?”
“Maybe.” She firmed her lips. “You Alphas really like to gossip.”
Kalen scoffed. “It’s our job to monitor them. And now it’s our job to monitor you. If Moses was your first kiss, who would you have had time to fuck between then and now?” He frowned, eyes flicking over her face. “Not to mention you just flinched when I said ‘fuck.’”
She tossed her hands up. “Test me, then! Give me a … a kink … exam.”
Mikel’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile, his scars twisting around his face, his mismatched eyes crinkling at the sides. She had seen a picture of his full smile once. The comments had been brutal. Saying he was unnaturally ugly. Saying that Alphas were supposed to have perfect skin. None of the comments explained why they thought all Alphas should have perfect skin, so it wasn’t likely that they all knew about the Alpha healing abilities. Perhaps their healing abilities made all the other Alphas who had starred on the Ironside Show over the years appear somewhat perfect.
Mikel’s smile was a short, aching flash of nostalgia. A brief window into a version of him that had once smiled and laughed often, and easily. A version of him that was now dead. His smile was a memorial, and it was too sad to be beautiful, but her heart ached as much as it did for one of Theodore’s picture-perfect, superstar smiles.
Kalen laughed, but it died too quickly, the deep, husky sound fading away and leaving her feeling like she had been dropped from a cliff with the way her stomach swooped. “There’s one more problem,” he said. “Mates are possessive by nature. I’m sure you would know that—your parents being who they are. When Theodore finds out what you’re doing in the club—and he will—how do you think he’s going to react?”
She frowned. “Well, wouldn’t I just be standing in a corner or something? Or will I be like … your assistant?”