Mates with the Alpha

Chapter 12

POV: Rose

I woke up again a few hours ago, after having them run a few tests the doctor came in. This time the doctor was a woman, the first time that they sent in a man. At the sight of another male made my pupils dilate and my body to cower back in fear, my heartbeat monitor was beeping fast and loud.

Needless to say, after my panic attack they made sure that they would switch my doctor to Ms. Black

"Rose, darling can you please open your mouth for me" After a moment of hesitation I complied. She tried to cover up her reaction of my condition by moving her hair so that it covered her face from my view, but it doesn't matter, I already saw it. Whatever she saw must've been very bad, her face paled, like she saw a ghost...

I opened my mouth as to speak, but before I could she gently covered my mouth with her hand. "Don't speak," she said simply before continuing "I know." I look at her confusingly not knowing what she's talking about, as if sensing this she explains, "I know you didn't do this to yourself like all the rest of the people say you did. Its physically impossible to cut that precisely with your left hand when your right handed." Now I know why he looked so familiar she was the blonde nurse, well I guess she's not a nurse after all. "Unless you have a secret talent you are not telling me about" she jokes lightly trying to lighten the mood, but fails epically. "I also know you won't tell me who has done this to you." I nod my head confirming her words.

"I know what your going through, I had some of the same type of things happen to me when I was a child. Like you, I was afraid to tell someone, but when I did it changed everything. I got my life back, now I believe it's only fair for you to get yours back to."

She pushes up on her white doctor's coat and shows me the, now disappearing lines that cover her forearm. I mentally laugh, I wish life was fair, I wish it was that easy. She leans in close to me and I could barely hear her faint whisper, " Promise me that if it gets to bad you will call me. Please let me give you something I never had: a friend."

I nod just as the door handle starts to twitch, telling us that someone is about to enter. Dr. Black quickly presses something into my hand and stands up. She grabs my clipboard of the end of my bed and acts like nothing happened as she reads me my condition: "We suspect you have depression, and this has caused you to hurt yourself." A voice behind her scoffs, when she turns around to greet the person I see him. At the sight of him my throat contracts and I feel the stitches throb, all my thoughts of hope and escaping fly from my mind.

"Do you need something, sir?" She all but spits at him.

"Please go ahead I'd like to know how I could help my...daughter." He says in a sickly sweet tone that causes a shiver to walk it's way down my spine.

"The blade that cut through the throat just nicked the vocal cords, it was almost as if someone knew exactly where to cut..." She looks at him accusingly, but instead of reacting or defending himself he just stood there with a smile.

A smile filled with no humor, no warmth just simply there, as to imply that he was nothing but an innocent bystander instead of the psychotic mastermind that plotted this all just because I sounded like my mother.

"The cords may or may not heal, if you put to much stress on them, then they will never grow back together and you won't ever be able to speak again." When she said this I saw Michael's 'smile' turn into a smirk. So that was his plan, to make me think that I had hope of letting my vocal cords heal, but I knew he'd torture me in anyway possible to make sure it doesn't happen, that the cords stay scratched. "I also suggest a stress-free environment. If your cords do heal, our psychological studies on you show that you still may not be able to talk again... In short terms don't make any noises or sudden movements, it will only result in more pain, and it will rip your stitches right out." At this its my turn to pale, I don't like a lot of things, but I hate needles. "You are free to leave anytime you want to. And I'll be calling next week to schedule an appointment for removing the stitches. I hope you feel better sweetheart." She encouraging smiles at me and nods before walking out the door leavings alone with him.

"Well then, sweetheart," Michael says bitterly, "we should get you home."

A half and hour later we drove home in silence, not like there was much I could do anyway. When we got to our plain house, I missed the hospital; the white walls, the smell of disinfectant, the warm and kind smiles you get when you walk down the hall.

That was a bright heaven compared to this dark hell.

As I step out of the car and up to the front steps of the house, I feel Michael push me down from behind making me fall on my knees leaving blood on the porch steps. I hear a growl from behind me that even makes Michael stop, with his foot in mid-air, from kicking me.

I slowly turn my head around and am sacred for what I will see. A growl that loud has to be a bear of some sort, right?

With this in mind, you can imagine my surprise and fear when I turned around and saw the biggest wolf I've seen in my life.

Once his eyes connected with mine he growled again, except this growl wasn't to intimidate it's was kinda like to show his...possession?

The wolf was beautiful. I don't know how, but I know that the wolf is a he and it's doesn't bother me. He makes me feel...weird. The wolf's coat is black as the sky at midnight and not a speck of another color was anywhere in view. He was so big that he could be taller than a large man if he was standing on his hind-legs. He was already taller than me, and there was the certain air about him that radiated power, this made me want to get as far away from him as possible. His eyes were what made me fear home the most, the were a beautiful electric blue but they weren't warm, they were cold, hard, killing, and filled to the brink with anger. They glossed over for a second as if having a conversation inside his head.

But instead of being scared of h my heart had a mind of is own. It was beating wildly and thumping happily. Why?

With one last growl at Michael, he turned around and gracefully used his strong legs to walk back into the forest that surrounds our house.

Why didn't he attack us?

Why didn't he attack me?

Why didn't he attack Michael?

~~~~~~~~~

This way longer. I know kinda boring I'm sorry I promised action and I didn't deliver😫

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