Gabe woke up with a sweet, aching soreness spreading through every inch of his body, but most of all in his legs. His thighs felt heavy, weak, and the dull throb between them sent a deep blush creeping up his neck. He swallowed, his fingers curling against the thin, scrumbed blanket as memories of last night flooded his mind.
Deroki had left silently, just as Gabe was drifting into exhausted slumber. He had barely been awake when he saw the door creak open and Deroki's tall frame slip out into the night like a phantom. There was no hesitation in his movements, no lingering touch or whispered words. He had simply left.
Gabe had wanted to call out, to ask him to stay, to share his warmth, to let him bury himself in the solid, comforting presence of the god. But he hadn't. He couldn't. He wasn't worthy of it.
How could he have asked the King of Hestros to sleep in this pathetic excuse for a bed, in a room that reeked of rotting wood and damp air? Deroki had already done more than he could have ever imagined. He had helped him through his heat without expecting anything in return. Gabe couldn't even remember if Deroki had come, had he found his own release, or had he simply given Gabe what he needed and left without taking anything back?
A shiver ran down Gabe's spine, but not from the cold. He clenched the sheets, inhaling shakily. He shouldn't be thinking about this.
But his body betrayed him. The heat still simmered inside him, clinging stubbornly, reminding him that he wasn't done yet. He needed stronger suppressants.
With a reluctant groan, Gabe pushed himself up, his muscles stiff and sore, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed at his face, willing the lingering need away, then reached for his maid's uniform. His fingers fumbled with the fabric, his mind still sluggish, but he forced himself to get dressed. He needed to find the healer.
Stepping outside, the familiar sight of the bustling servants' quarters greeted him. The scent of damp stone and woodsmoke clung to the air as maids and workers scurried past, each buried in their own tasks. But as soon as they noticed him, they stopped.
Curious, wide-eyed stares pinned him in place.
"When did you come back?" one of the omega maids asked, eyes brimming with curiosity.
"I was discharged last night," Gabe answered, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutiny.
"Then why didn't you report to duty?" The omega's tone sharpened, as though Gabe had committed some great offense.
"I..." He hesitated. "I'm going through heat. I need to see the healer first."
"What?" The omega's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why did you come out of your room, then? You're going to disrupt everyone's work."
"I told you," Gabe said, frowning. "I need to go to the healer."
"For what? I thought you were discharged."
"To get stronger suppressants."
The omega's brows furrowed before they scoffed, shaking their head. "Maids aren't allowed to take suppressants."
Gabe stared at them. "What?"
"That's the rule. You should know that by now."
"But I took suppressants all the time at the enclave."
"Yes, because it hindered your work. Here, omegas are expected to stay in their rooms until their heat passes."
Gabe's stomach twisted. "I see..." His voice was quiet. "What if I need to use the bathroom?"
"You'll be given a bucket."
A horrified silence stretched between them.
"You expect me to do my business in a bucket?" Gabe asked, his voice barely above a whisper, disbelief making his head spin.
"That's how we all do it," the omega said, unbothered. "Some sneak out at night when no one's around."
Gabe shook his head. "And food?"
"You won't die if you don't eat for three or four days."
"That's... that's cruel," Gabe whispered, horror clawing at his throat. "How are you all okay with this?"
"That's just how it is."
Gabe stood frozen, his thoughts a whirlwind of disbelief and quiet rage. He knew the state of the palace maids was bad, but he hadn't realized the extent of it. This wasn't just mistreatment, it was torture.
His hands curled into fists.
"I'm going to the healer," he announced, his voice firm.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the infirmary, leaving the stunned omega behind.
Gabe had expected some resistance, but he hadn't expected how difficult it would be to leave the maid quarters. The path to the infirmary was riddled with soldiers, their uniforms crisp, their weapons glinting under the palace torches. As he moved past them, their eyes followed him, some curious, others mocking. A few exchanged murmured words, nudging each other, smirking at some inside joke that he wasn't privy to.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Just as he reached the exit, a guard stepped in front of him, blocking his path. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and reeked of arrogance.
"Excuse me," the guard drawled, his voice filled with lazy amusement.
Gabe forced himself to remain calm. "Yes?"
"Where do you think you're going?" The guard's gaze raked over his body, lingering in a way that made Gabe's skin crawl.
"To the infirmary," Gabe answered stiffly.
The guard tilted his head, his smirk widening. "You can't go there."
Gabe's patience was already wearing thin. "Why not?"
"You need special orders to leave the maid quarters." The man folded his arms over his chest, clearly enjoying this power trip. "No maid is allowed to leave without permission from their head."
"But.." Gabe exhaled sharply, fighting back the urge to argue. "Fine. I'll get permission."
He turned on his heel and stalked back into the quarters, frustration thrumming beneath his skin. His body still ached from last night, his heat lingering like a slow-burning fire that refused to die down. He needed the suppressants, and he needed them now.
Mrs. Finn, the head of the maids, was deep in conversation with another woman when Gabe found her. She leaned in close, whispering something that made the other woman giggle before she turned to face him.
"Mrs. Finn," Gabe greeted, forcing a respectful tone.
She arched a brow. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" she taunted, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
Gabe inhaled deeply, swallowing his irritation. "I'm in heat. I need to see the healer to get suppressants, but the guards won't let me leave without your permission." He crossed his arms. "If you could write a note, that would be great."
Mrs. Finn chuckled, shaking her head like he had just said something absurd.
"How entitled you've become," she mused. "No one is allowed to leave their room during heat, and yet you expect special treatment? Do you have any idea the kind of unrest you'd cause among the Alphas if you went wandering around in this condition?"
Gabe stiffened. "This condition?" he echoed, his voice sharp. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable I am right now? And the Alphas have a problem?"
Mrs. Finn's expression turned cold. "Don't argue with me," she snapped. "I won't change the rules for some enclave handout. Now, go back to your room before I grant the Alphas free rein to do whatever they please with you."
The words hit him like a slap.
Gabe stared at her, horror sinking deep into his bones. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Couldn't believe that someone could say something so vile, so cruel, as if his body wasn't his own, as if his safety was a privilege, not a right.
His hands trembled at his sides.
Without another word, he spun on his heel and walked away, his vision blurring with unshed tears.
As soon as he reached his room, he shut the door and locked it, his fingers shaking against the wood. The moment he was alone, the dam broke. Tears spilled down his cheeks, hot and unstoppable. He pressed his hands to his face, his body curling inward as silent sobs wracked his frame.
Hours passed, each one more agonizing than the last. The effects of the heat had taken full hold of him, and Gabe felt like he was being burned alive from the inside out. His skin was impossibly sensitive, every brush of fabric against his body felt like a raw wound being scraped open again and again. The dull ache in his core had transformed into sharp, unbearable pain, twisting through him in waves that left him breathless. He tossed and turned on his thin mattress, sweat soaking through the sheets, his body trembling violently.
He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood, desperate for anything to ground him. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his mind clouded by the haze of need. Every second stretched endlessly, and with each moment, the hope of relief slipped further and further away.
Just when he thought he might lose himself completely to the agony, a knock sounded at his door.
Gabe's eyes fluttered open, his vision swimming as he forced himself up. His legs wobbled beneath him, his muscles weak and aching. He barely managed to shuffle to the door, gripping the handle with trembling fingers before pulling it open.
Mrs. Finn stood on the other side, her expression as sour as ever. She held out a small packet of pills, her lips curled in distaste.
"This came for you from the infirmary," she said flatly.
Gabe blinked at the pills in her hand, his mind sluggish from exhaustion and pain. He recognized them immediately, suppressants. The same kind he had taken back at the enclave to keep his heat in check. Relief surged through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sharp sting of Mrs. Finn's next words.
"I wish the maids were given the same treatment as an enclave whore."
Her voice dripped with disgust, her eyes filled with nothing but contempt.
Gabe stiffened, his stomach twisting at the insult, but he was too exhausted to respond. He reached for the pills, his fingers brushing against the packet as she shoved it into his grasp.
"Take these and get to work," she snapped. "You're on kitchen cleaning duty," with she turned around and left.