The Alpha's Mistress

45

Word Count: 2156

~Sienna

This is my second bath of my night. It doesn't feel like enough.

My skin is raw as I scrub at it. I know I can't physically remove Zion's stare from my body, but it feels good to try. I can still feel the weight of it, igniting an eruption of shivers over my skin.

The water sloshes around me. My teeth grind together, my jaw tight and strained.

How dare he ask about my mother. He forced her hand. She had to escape to save me, and although the trauma of my childhood has chased away most of my memories, I know he was a violent man.

The feeling of having so many gaps in my memory isn't just uncanny. It's haunting. I feel stripped of my agency.

I drop the brush I've been scrubbing my skin with over the edge of the tub, watching it clatter over the marble.

Zion didn't know she died. He didn't seem to care, anyway.

I gasp as an ache blooms in my chest, lurching up into my throat. My mother escaped in hopes that I would never know the horrors of my father's wrath again.

I can't escape him....

Leaning back until my head rests against the tub, I force calm over myself. Zion can't hurt me. Not here, not so overtly.

Just as I feel my body start to relax, a large hand is suddenly pressing atop my head, forcing my head under the water.

My gasp has water invading my mouth as I'm plunged under the surface. My body slips against the porcelain tub, the hand holding me under until my lungs start to burn.

My fingers manage to grasp the edge of the tub and I push back until my head is above the water. The taste of bath salts burn my mouth as I cough violently, a surge of adrenaline leaving me shaky.

Before I can force myself up, a thick cord passes around my face before pressing into my neck.

My assailant behind me tugs the cord tight, forcing me back against the tub again, cutting off my breath entirely.

I kick and struggle, the water sloshing about violently, tumbling over the side of the tub. My fingers pry into the rope, my nails cutting into my skin as I attempt to dig my fingers beneath the cord.

As my back presses against the edge of the tub, I feel the person behind me, breathing roughly into my ear.

In one swift movement, I tilt my head forward as much as I can before slamming it back into the head of my attacker.

They curse, the sound masculine and deep. They fall backward, loosening their grip on the rope enough for me to get my fingers beneath it. I rip it over my head, my subsequent gasp throaty and pained, but at least I can breathe.

I stumble from the bath, nearly slipping on the water spilt all across the marble floor.

My attacker is pulling themselves up off the ground, pressing a hand to their head. They wear cloth mask over their entire head, have dark gloves on and inconspicuous clothing.

There is no way I can know who this is. All I know is they are here to kill me.

I jump over them as I rush for the bathroom door. However, they wrap their hand around my ankle and pull hard, causing me to fall straight onto my stomach.

My arms manage to catch myself before the wind is knocked from my lungs. Pain echoes through my limbs as I'm yanked through the water toward my attacker, who has righted themselves.