Free A Virgin Enslaved (Inhumanly Handsome, Humanly Flawed Alpha Male Erotic Romance) by Artemis Hunt Page A

She smells of neglect and sickness, though I know that hers is the sickness of the mind and not of the body. I remember burying my nose into that hair when I was a child. Then she had worn the scent of eucalyptus. She loved eucalyptus soap, and she would never mask it with perfume.
    What happened to her here?
    An irrational rage overtakes me, and I have to fight hard to suppress it. It’s easy to blame the nurse and attendants for her state, but I know – as with time and again – that she has done this to herself.
    “Mom, Mom, Mom,” I say while stroking her back, “it’s gonna be OK. I’m here.”
    “Take me away, Christopher. Why won’t you take me away?” Her voice breaks at the end, and a dagger twists in my chest.
    We have tried to take her away before. But in my father’s house, we couldn’t contain her, and we had to keep her sedated most of the time.
    She needed help. Massive help.
    “You’re going to get better soon and I’ll take you away when you do, I promise. But right now you’ll have to eat and drink something or you’re not going to get better.”
    My mother sobs into my shoulder, and I let her. It pains me to see her reduced to this – the beautiful, gracious woman that she once was.
    Later, much later, when I have calmed her down sufficiently to get her out of the straightjacket, I lead her slowly downstairs. The wary nurse and two attendants follow three steps behind, making sure nothing extraordinary happens – though in this place, anything ordinary would be considered extraordinary by most standards.
    I take my mother by the hand to a section in the garden with a pretty white cupola, where a table has been set. My mother is British, and she used to love afternoon teas. It’s all very peaceful in stark contrast to what just happened upstairs. A little silver tray of finger sandwiches and a dainty teapot with teacups have been set.
    Mom used to serve afternoon tea to the members of the various charities she spearheaded back when she wasn’t ill. I figured that tea would calm her even further.
    Beth awaits us in the cupola. She gets up as we approach.
    “Mom, this is Beth. She’s someone I work with.”
    I think any other appellation would be too open for interpretation. ‘Friend’ has its connotations, and I think Beth isn’t ready to be my friend as yet. ‘PA’ would be too formal and would denote the boss/employee relationship.
    Beth holds her hand out warmly. “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Morton.”
    My mother doesn’t take her outstretched hand.
    Fuck . She’s not going to have a full-blown attack again, is she?
    “Mom?” I say gently.
    My mother’s eyes are shining. They are the same hazel as mine. You can see what a beautiful woman she still is. I’ve managed to comb her hair and make her presentable in a floral shift.
    She whispers to Beth, “You’re an angel. I can see your halo.”
    Beth seems out of sorts, but she manages a smile. Her outstretched hand doesn’t waver.
    I lean closer to my mother’s ear and say, “That’s what I tell her, but she doesn’t listen.”
    Beth’s smile stretches wider and stays.
    This time, it’s genuine.
    We have tea with my mother and the nurse, with the attendants a call away. We make small talk. Well, as much talk as my mother can manage anyway. She seems to have calmed down a lot, and when she’s not looking, I slip her meds into her teacup.
    Just when I think everything is going OK, my mother turns to Beth.
    “Selena?” she says earnestly. “I don’t really know if you and my son will have a future. I understand what you’re both going through, but it’s wrong and it’s got to stop.”
    Beth is a little taken aback.
    I twitch in my seat. I don’t really blame Mom. Selena and Beth do have more than a passing resemblance.
    “My name is Beth, Mrs. Morton.” Beth’s reply is gentle.
    “The school board will throw you out,” my Mom insists. “I know these things. You will be ruined and there’ll be no place for