Finding the Alpha(Abandoned)

News

-+Myles's POV+-
*beware of non-con*

She went to see her father.

It was a strange concept right now. Her father was here, perhaps not even fifty yards away.

He had changed her in so little time. Her whole being had shifted, I felt it. She smiled- as close as she could, she joked... Why couldn't that be me?

I was her mate. Her mate. Her mate for Pete's sake! This woman is so frustrating...

But that's all in the past.

She came back after an hour. She gave me a reassuring quarter smile, the right corner of her mouth turning up slightly. She sat next to me in the companionable silence.

We waited for the tell tale sounds. We knew it was today. We knew it was soon.

"He'll be ready soon. My father. He just needs some time to prepare. Perhaps in the next few days."

My heart raced at the thought. Getting out of here and taking a nice long bubble bath with my mate sounded like a miracle. It was pretty close to being a miracle. "Tell him to not take too long. I've get places to be." I gave her a small nudge and saw another quarter smile.

It wasn't long after that when the sound of keys echoed down the hallway.

Her and I turned to each other at the same time. The keys. Where the fuck are the keys?

We both frantically look about the cell in those few moments but they seemed to have disappeared.

"Damn." She whispers, "They must have slipped into the pile of clothes. I'll get them back, I swear." She places her hand on my shoulder softly before retrieving it and slinking to the far corner. She coughs loudly and hacks while rubbing dirt on herself and scratching her nails down her arms. When her disguise is done in those seconds, she looks like a total mess. She was damn good.

The cell is opened by the Southerner. He has no quips today, something is different. He drags me by my arm to the mess hall.

The sixteen or so guys are waiting with strange looks of anxiety and anger.

The Southerner is rough, like always, but he's not as fast and desperate. Something is really wrong.

Oh... The dead guard. They must be worked up over missing one of their own. Maybe its effecting their solidarity. Well this is definitely info I can't block out this time.

The Southerner seems prepared. I relax and close my eyes, I try to imagine I'm somewhere else. It doesn't help.

-+)(+-

Their finishing. I feel disgusted, I feel mad, I feel like slipping into a coma for a few months. Most of all I feel relief; I can go back and pass out in my mates arms.

She thinks I don't remember when she holds me and cleans me. But I know, I feel connected and alive and most importantly, I feel okay when she hugs me to herself.

The last is out and done, I feel cold and warm at the same time. I hate this part; my body is coming off the adrenaline high, nearly surging into shock. I have at least eight new cigarette burns, two more knife slashes, five more bruises in the outline of hands...

I love my mate. I love my mate. I wouldn't do this for anyone I don't love. I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy.

They're about take me back to the cell when one of them stops the procession.

"Hey, I just got some news, fairy." He grips my hair, angling me to see his ugly face. "Guess what's happening on the home front? Come on, guess." He shakes my head vigorously. "Nothing? Aw, well I guess you're no fun. Anyways, your old man is dead."

I don't remember shouting out in rage. I don't remember fighting them as they took me back to the cell. I don't even remember getting back into the cell itself. All I remember is waking up with a headache, swollen eyes, a sore throat, and my mate softly cooing as she soothed me and cleaned my body with a gentle touch.

Sorry I'm so late but I hope the tiny twist is enough to satiate your appetite for a bit. Thank you for being patient and understanding and reading as always.

-J.B²