The door finally closed behind the last visiting Alpha. Their heavy boots thudded against the stone floor until the sound disappeared down the hallway, swallowed by silence, a very thick and suffocating silence.
I sat there on the edge of the couch, back stiff, hands clenched so tightly in my lap that I was sure my nails were drawing little crescent moons into my palms. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t even dare breathe too loudly. Because Alpha Zach was still standing there and he hadn’t said a single word since that smug Alpha leaned across the table, grinned, and asked casually, "So, Zach if you ever decide she’s too much trouble, you can always send that pretty little thing my way."
Pretty little thing. He ant . I wanted to lt into the floor. Or evaporate. Or spontaneously combust and leave only a pile of ash behind, because that might actually be less terrifying than existing in this exact mont.
The air in the room was cold. Not cold from the weather. Cold from Zach. His aura was rolling in waves, a sharp suffocating pressure that pressed down on until I felt like a bug under his thumb. Inside his head no, inside his very bones I could practically hear it. His inner voice. Low. Dark. Seething.
"Inner voice: Mine. She’s mine. How dare he put his filthy eyes on her. How dare he speak of her as if she’s an object. As if she could belong to anyone else but .
My throat closed. I should have ripped out his tongue the mont he opened his mouth. Better yet, his throat. Slowly. In front of everyone, so they’d never forget what happens when soone dares breathe her na.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I could feel the rage vibrating in him. Like a giant wolf was pacing inside his skin, teeth bared, claws carving lines into the inside of his ribs. And ?
I was sitting here, desperately trying not to look like a "pretty little thing" anymore. Maybe if I hunch my back a little yes, slouch... maybe tilt my chin down... hide the neck... make myself look like a sad potato. Potatoes aren’t attractive. Nobody ever looked at a potato and said, "I want that one."
I am a potato. I am a harmless, lumpy potato. Please believe . But what if this crazy hates potatoes? What if potatoes remind him of betrayal? What if the first person who ever wronged him once gave him mashed potatoes, and now my potato strategy only enrages him further? Oh no, oh no, abort, abort mission. His boots scraped against the floor. I froze. Every muscle locked, stiff as a corpse. If soone touched right now, they’d have to pry open like a wooden mannequin. He didn’t look at . He didn’t need to. His presence filled the entire room. His aura was a living, breathing, snarling monster, and I was the rabbit dumb enough to be caught in its shadow.
"Inner voice: He wanted her. He thought he could touch what’s mine. He thought he could steal what belongs to . If he ever tries again, I’ll tear him apart piece by piece. I’ll mount his head on the border wall and let the crows feast on his pride.
I made a tiny squeaking sound in my throat. Not a scream, not even a word. Just a squeak. Like a mouse who just realized the cheese it nibbled belonged to a lion. His head turned. Slowly. His eyes flicked toward .
"Stand." The word dropped from his mouth like a stone sinking into a dark lake.
My knees wobbled as I scrambled up. My heart was racing so fast I was certain it was visible, thumping through my dress. He stared at for a long, unbearable mont.
Then he turned and walked away. Wait. That was it? Just walk away? No, no, no, don’t relax yet, Ellie. That’s exactly what villains do in movies before they circle back with an axe. This was the calm before the storm. The wolf before the pounce. The pause before the bite. I followed him. Of course I did. What else could I do? Stay sitting and risk looking disobedient? No thanks, I’d rather not find out what "disobedient potato" tastes like to Alpha Zach. His strides were long, fast, and angry. Mine were small, clumsy, and panicked. I kept tripping on my own feet like my body was actively trying to betray . His voice kept ranting:
"Inner voice: Mine. Mine. Mine. I should lock her away. Hide her where no one can ever look at her again. Where no Alpha can whisper disgusting suggestions. Where no one can even think about touching her.
Lock away? Oh my gosh, he’s already planning my imprisonnt. Maybe in a dungeon. Maybe in a tiny closet with no windows. Oh no, oh no, what if he chains to a wall like one of those tragic heroines in horror novels? I can’t do chains. I can’t. I’ll scream. I’ll shriek. I’ll chew my own wrist off before I stay chained to a wall. unless he puts in a cage. Like a canary. Oh my gosh, what if he gets a birdcage? Will he make sing? I can’t sing! If I try, I’ll sound like a dying goose, and then he’ll probably kill for being a useless canary
"Ellie."
I squeaked again. We’d stopped and I hadn’t noticed because I was busy ntally rehearsing my goose-song.
His eyes burned into , sharp and unrelenting. "Do you know what I’m thinking?"
"No Alpha!! I yelled
He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath brush against my cheek.
"I’m thinking about ripping out his eyes." His voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of thunder. "Because he looked at you. Because he dared to imagine you could ever be his."
I gulped. Loudly. My Adam’s apple (or, well, Eve’s apple) bobbed like a buoy in stormy waters.
Inside his head, his voice echoed even darker:
"Inner voice: She’s mine. She’ll always be mine. I will never let her go. I will kill every Alpha, every wolf, every breathing thing before I let them take her.
Oh God He wasn’t bluffing. He ant every word. What if he went back out right now and actually ripped out the other Alpha’s eyes? He straightened, towering over , his jaw sharp, his shoulders tense. Then, without another word, he turned again and kept walking. We reached my room. He opened the door. For a second, I thought this is it. He’s going to shove inside, lock the door, and throw away the key. Instead, he just motioned for to go in. I obeyed My legs carried inside faster than my brain could keep up. He stood there in the doorway for a long mont, staring at with eyes that burned like twin suns. Then he shut the door. And I was alone. Oh God What was he planning? Why hadn’t he yelled at ? Why hadn’t he punished ? This is unlike him. The silence pressed down on like a mountain and I started pacing. Okay, Ellie, think. Maybe he’s waiting for to panic. Yes, that’s it. He’s testing . He’s sitting outside right now, listening to freak out. He’s probably smirking. Oh gosh, I can practically hear his inner voice.
"Inner voice: Dance, little mouse. Squirm. Panic. Show how cute you look when you’re terrified. I flopped onto the bed. I pressed my hands to my face. My thoughts were spinning faster. What if he cos back in the middle of the night? What if he ties up? What if he just stands there in the dark, watching sleep, whispering about ripping out eyeballs? I curled into a ball, rocking back and forth, muttering to myself like a lunatic. This was it. My life now. Trapped between an Alpha who wanted to keep like a precious treasure and my own brain that wouldn’t stop screaming birdcage goose eyeballs potatoes. Sowhere in the hallway, a floorboard creaked. I bolted upright up right away. I know the psycho is still out there.After a hectic day thinking of what the crazy psycho would do to . I was asleep. The kind of sleep where you drool and dream about eating noodles in peace without a psycho Alpha breathing down your neck, then I felt it. A weight dipped into the mattress beside . My eyes snapped open so fast I nearly dislocated my own eyelids.
No. No. No.
"Don’t panic, Ellie," I whispered inside my head, because my mouth was frozen. "Maybe it’s just a dream But then, a very real arm slid around my waist. Slowly. Deliberately. Like a giant wolf deciding I was a stuffed toy he needed to squeeze. Oh God, it’s him again. The crazy Alpha had creeped into my bed again.
He didn’t just stop at the waist. Oh, no. That would’ve been too rciful. His hand dragged upward, fingers spreading over my ribs, then settling under my chest like he was asuring how much air I was allowed to breathe.
"Possessive psycho hand detected," my brain scread. "This is not a drill. Abort mission. Escape not possible. Begin funeral arrangents imdiately."
I tried to wiggle away, very subtly. Like maybe if I shifted an inch he wouldn’t notice, but his hand tightened instantly. My back was yanked flush against him so fast I squeaked. And then I felt his chin lower until it rested on the crown of my head, heavy and firm. His breath ca slow, even, but way too warm against my scalp.
"This is it," I thought dramatically. "I’m a hostage even inside this room. Then his inner voice suddenly rang in my head.
"Inner voice: "Mine" No one touches her. No one looks at her. She breathes under , she sleeps under . She belongs here.
I tried to scream inside my head, but of course my body betrayed . I just lay there stiff while his hand slid lower again, splaying across my stomach, pulling impossibly tighter.
"Inner Voice: They wanted her today. His voice growled low inside the silence. Those visiting Alphas. Filthy wolves thinking they could ask for her like she’s theirs to claim. Mine.
Each mine vibrated through like a death toll bell. Why is this crazy psycho repeatedly calling his?"
"Inner voice: She squirms. His inner voice chuckled darkly. She thinks she can move away. Foolish little Oga. Try. Let feel you try.
Okay. Think, Ellie. Think. There has to be a survival strategy or else this psycho will pressed the life out of .
Option one: Pretend to be dead. If I don’t breathe, maybe he will let go. Downside: I will actually die.
Option two: Bite his arm. Upside: He might release . Downside: He will 100% bite back harder. With teeth. Big Alpha teeth.
Option three: Escape through the window. But considering his grip felt like iron chains forged in a volcano, the only thing I’d manage to launch out the window would be my soul.
"Option four," my brain suggested weakly. "Cry."
I would have considered it, if not for the fact that he will probably just lick the tears off my face like so deranged wolf that he is. His hand moved again. He started stroking. Stroking my side, my hip, my stomach slow, firm, lazy strokes like I was so pet he was settling for the night.
"This is not happening," I mouthed silently, tears of panic stinging my eyes. "I am not a pet. I am not a pillow. I am a human being! And then he tilted his head slightly. His nose pressed into my hair. He inhaled it deeply and Loudly.
Like so psycho wolf addict snorting the last bit of sanity I had left.
"Stop slling !" I begged silently. "You creep! This is a bed, not a bakery.
"Inner voice: She slls like fear, Sweet and pure No wolf will ever taste it but .
Is he going to eat now? My legs started shaking under the blanket. Just trembling violently, because apparently my body thought it was helpful to signal prey instincts while being trapped in the jaws of the predator.
But crazy psycho dud not release . The strokes of his hand turned into firm holds. His fingers dug into my hip, possessive, like even in his sleep his body needed to remind : mine.Then ca the leg situation. Oh please save . His leg hooked over mine, tangling us together until I was basically a burrito of doom wrapped in psycho Alpha limbs. I whimpered silently in my head. This is how I die," I whispered internally. "Suffocated in a cuddle.nAnd then he did it. The thing that nearly ended my entire bloodline. He lowered his head and whispered. Right against my ear. His lips brushed the skin.
"You’re mine, little Oga."
He said it out loud. Not inner voice actual voice. My whole soul shrieked. My brain scread like a fire alarm. I just lay there, stiff, panicking so violently my spirit tried to chew its way out of my chest. I can feel it.
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