Mated to the Rogue *DISCONTINUED*

F I F T E E N

I sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, mindlessly spinning from one side to another, tossing M&M's in the air and attempting to catch them in my mouth. So far I had a success rate of 1/17, but art forms like this take practice and time to master.

I was bored. Alex was out, Claire was studying for a test that wasn't going to happen for at least a week and Liam was working. I could just imagine his muscles rippling under his shirt, him wiping his large hands on a rag and bringing a water bottle up to his lips, the way the strong column of his throat would constrict as he swallowed...

A loud knock rudely interrupted me from my day dream and I nearly fell out of my seat, throwing my hands up to grab the counter and spilling my candies in the process. I started at the ground now littered in colorful chocolate circles in utter shock. My poor babies!

The knock came again, more persistent this time. I was too busy mourning the loss of my preciouses to care, though. All the important people had a key.

The lock clicked open and the door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Apprehensive, I peeked up from my spot on the floor, the M&M's scattered around me. Remember when I said, "All the important people have a key?" Of course you do, it was in the last paragraph. Anyway, I take it back.

I pushed myself up off the ground and put my hands on my hips, trying and probably failing to look threatening. I didn't even bother saying anything, just shot him a spite-filled glare that seemed to always find it's way onto my face whenever the alpha was around.

He walked into my house like he owned the place and trampled all over the carpet to get to a chair in the kitchen without even taking his dirty shoes off! I looked at him in disgust. He stank of alcohol and cigarettes, nothing out of the ordinary there.

"Give me the keys," I ground out, trying to keep my temper in check.

He turned his head full of greasy hair toward me and sneered. "Nope."

Fucker.

"This isn't your house!"

"You're right, he's a guest."

My head whipped around and I turned my peeved gaze to my father who finally decided to show up after two weeks of leaving his children alone without a note or anything. Something could have happened to him and I would never know. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, though.

Skipping all greetings, I demanded, "Did you invite him in?"

My father ignored my question, instead telling me, "Emilia, make sure our honored guest has everything he wants." He looked over my outfit and gave me an appalled frown. "Change your clothes. You look disgusting."

I felt my fists clench and heat rush to my face. What's so wrong with sweatpants anyways?

"Oh, don't worry about that, Richard. What she's wearing is fine," Alpha Ryan said with exaggerated complaisance as if was doing me a favor by letting me stay in something I had on before he busted into my house and acted all high and mighty. "A sandwich would be wonderful right now, though," he said, rubbing his slight pot belly.

I opened my mouth, ready to deny him his request when my father roughly grabbed my upper arm and gave it a squeeze. "She'd be honored," he replied for me, giving me a look they said arguing with him was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I tried swallowing, but my throat had suddenly gone parched with the fire of disdain in my father's eyes.

I yanked my arm out of his painful grasp that was sure to bruise and busied myself with making the damn sandwich. I swear, my relationship with my father wasn't always this bad. I could take a whole trip down memory lane, but with remembering comes pain, so I chose to avoid it and focus on keeping the tears at bay.