Chapter 5. I Am Yours.

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If anything you feel restless as you stare at the audience of men around you.
There are only about three women in addition to yourself, which seems to bother you, it becomes irritating the more you think about it. However, you were never the type to feel awkward amid male Alphas, but for some reason, you seem greatly uneasy.
"Uniting the border would be the best option to assist victims of the barbarians we're encountering," one of the alphas, probably about fifty, says as he rises to his feet, his face turning red with anger with his fist folded lightly.
With a groan, one of the Alphas turns his face away, as a matter of fact, you notice how the others in the room pay no heed to this man's words as they seem to give him cold shoulders despite him being the oldest in the room.
"Well, I cannot allow my pack to become an enemy of the Sapphire pack, we wouldn't be able to defend ourselves," an arrogant Alpha says with a mocking grin.
Bam!
The room echoes as the older man beats his table out of anger, you can hear the brain-torturing sound of his teeth as they grit against each other, the man barely holding back his irritation.
"What arrogant nonsense, in my days, the great Alphas would have taken necessary steps to make sure no pack gets left behind," he yells.
"Hmph!" a young alpha scoffs as he wiggles his left pinky finger in his ear before casting scornful glares at his elder, "as you can see, we're not the great Alphas, but we can make our own decisions, thank you," he says.
"You!!!" His words hang in his throat as he knows he won't be winning the argument against these youngsters, but just then, he glances at you; his eyes seem to be sparkling from his newly found hope, and you can't help but wonder why he has such a reaction until he opens his mouth.
"Tell me Alpha Roxanne, what do you suggest," he suddenly asks for your opinion.
You're stunned, you weren't expecting him to seek your opinion, and yet by looking at the faces of the irresponsible children you're paired with, you can already understand why he needs your help.
You reach for a glass of water that has been sitting on your desk and empty the glass in two gulps.
The room goes silent as they stare at you, a reaction you can't help but notice from the intensity of their stares.
"Is there anything on my face?" you wonder, but there's no answer, except from the elderly who steps forward with worry in his eyes.
"That water, just now, had a strange scent," he mentions.
You take a glance at the glass in your hand and take a closer sniff, "Nothing," you tell them to confirm it's not poison, which makes them breathe in relief.
Unfortunately, your victory is short-lived as your throat begins to itch and burn like a thousand fire ants had ganged up against you.
"Aargh..." you groan, trying to release a word from your mouth as you push back your seat, getting onto your knees.
You reach out towards the audience as they stare at you, "My throat, burns, I need some water, please someone get me water," you beg them, while they hesitate to help.
"Please have this and try to calm down," the older man says as he grabs a cup of water on his side of the table.
As soon as you take in the first gulp, you feel a bit revived, but something feels amiss, that sense of deja vu floods your memory once again, but this time, you finally know what it is.
You're about to go into heat.
"I need to get away from here," you whisper just loud enough for the rest to hear.
Putting one arm around your waist, he helps you rise on your feet while the others are unwilling, looking as selfish as ever, "Alright, I'll take you to the hospital,"
"No!" you yell, violently pushing the man.
Your quick response has more curious eyes staring at you; you know too well that today's incident was bound to spread. However, you don't have enough time to clear baseless suspicions. Now, only one thought remains in your head, and that is how to get as far away as possible.
"I don't want to trouble you; I'll be fine if I can go home; please get Susan," you beg.
The council stares at each other, your desperate tone piques their interest, yet they hate to be the one who steps on your toes, especially since they know what you're capable of.
"Alpha!" Susan comes running into the room. One look at you and her face has turned sour, and you know too well it's because of you, it seems she's caught on quite fast.
"I just want to go home; there's no time for scolding; I can't bring myself to stay here anymore," you whisper to her.
Susan spends no time as she carries you like a child and makes a run for it down the stairs at full speed, placing a suit over you to avoid prying eyes.
"What happened?" She asks, still on the run.
"My drink was spiked, it's a kind of drug that makes me go into heat while inflicting pain if I resist any second longer, and I may have perhaps raped the men in there. I just want to get somewhere safe," you beg her and quickly, she gets you into the car for a quick drive.
From the beginning till the end of your ride, you can't count how many times Susan has stolen glances to check up on you out of worry; it gets so often, which causes you to scream as you shiver, "Keep your eyes on the road for goodness sake."
"Alpha what's wrong?" The staff in your mansion yell as they see you in Susan's arms, hurrying to help you to your room.
"Get away from me, go far away," you yell the moment you notice they're already drawn near.
"But Alpha," the head maid calls out to you as you force yourself out of Susan's arms, the drug is spreading faster.
"Including you too Susan," you warn as you take the stairs without looking back, each step, feeling like you're stepping on rocks.
"Ugh!" you cry out from the pain of holding back.
By the time you reach the final stairs, you find that everyone has left the mansion.
Your heart feels lighter knowing you cannot endanger anyone, but heavy knowing you have no one other than yourself to rely on.
"Oh, Alpha," a maid greets you with surprise in her eyes.
Unfortunately, you're more shocked to see her because you know very well what her presence means.
"Alpha Roxanne is here?" a low soft voice asks the maid.
You find your husband, Idah, next to his maid, looking as frail as always, with a shawl over his shoulder, his face beautiful rather than handsome that you begin to doubt his gender.
Suddenly you recall why you're upstairs, and remember that he shouldn't be here.
You glare at him before grabbing his jaw.
"You, what are you doing in the open?" you question him. Your breath is heavy as you break out in cold sweat.
"I... I just wanted a jar of water..." he cries.
Oh...
It's that face of his again. You can't help but want to see more reactions from that face, if possible, it interests you as you fathom how he would look if he were to be in tears.
"Get away from me right now," you warn, holding on to your dignity.
As soon as you turn away to leave in the opposite direction, you feel tender baby soft hands holding onto yours and turn around.
His hands bearing long and soft, nervous, sweaty fingers hold your hand.
You're stunned. "Is anything the matter?" he asks you.
"Let go!"
"But your breathing is unstable, were you drugged?" Idah questions not minding your warnings.
You can't hold on much longer, and he isn't making this any easier as you want to pull his hand off you, and yet yearn to lock fingers with him.
"I said let go!"
Quickly, you pull out, your heart stinging, causing you to hold on to your chest as you struggle to get to your room; your legs wobble as you pant heavily.
"I... I... I... can help you get over the poison, Idah yells just when you've been opportune to get away from him.
You freeze on your track, your mind clouded with thoughts as you debate whether or not to listen to him.
You know turning back would be the end of it, you know too well there can only be one way out of this mess, and yet...
"You can just use me," Ida yells loudly, overwhelmed by embarrassment.
That is all it takes as you turn around to stare at this skinny man with a face flushed red like tomatoes, his offer doesn't sound too bad on the contrary.
Now, you just wonder if he knows the meaning of his words.

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