The Alpha's Games

Nine

I stare at my fragile state in the mirror as Chris searches his cabinet for some type of shot.

With my index finger I trace the burning pink of my cheeks.

I trace the circles under my eyes that have grown tremendously. The sickening purple black sinks in my eyes and paints me as skeletal. I am a porcelain pale and the color gives the impression of collapse at any second. I put my hand on my chest and take a breathe in, trying my best to not collapse. I grip the marble of Chris's counter so tightly that I'm relying on it to not pass out. My head pulses with a threatening amount of pressure. So much that I want to drill holes into my skull to ease the pain.

I gulp sickly and Chris turns around with some kind of shot in hand. His eyes meet mine in the mirror and I can't help but shake the subtle fear in them. Chris is never afraid of anything because his life is full of meaningless simplicity. But my sick state awakened a kind of deprived fear Chris hasn't felt in a long time, if ever. He's afraid I'm going to die which means that his conquest in creating me as a lover will fail.

"Give me your arm," he states in a cool tone.

I'm afraid to let go of the marble counter but I frankly have no choice. I release the marble and spin around. Earth seems spin on its axis and I can't seem to get my balance. I trip on my heels and stick out my hands to try and lesson the impact of the fall. Chris grabs ahold of my shoulders and pushes me up with ease. I sit on the edge his counter and squeeze my eyes shut when his eyes bleed in concern.

We don't say anything for a shakey minute. I however keep my eyes squeezed shut to try and shake the feeling of overlooking death. When I open my eyes Chris is still looking at me strangely. Almost as if my well-being is an important factor to his life. Guilt claws at my throat for nearly believing it.

"You'll get through it," he says a little to cheerfully.
"You can't-..." I begin breathlessly but I'm cut off by someone opening the bathroom door.

My eyes nearly bulge from my head at the sight of Blair. She jumps in surprise for a second but then smoothes her features back down to an unchanging concrete expression. Her dark out of place eyes stare at me almost angrily making me want to shrivel. Blair blinks slowly and pushes dark hair behind her shoulders. She shifts her gaze to Chris who is holding the shot behind his back.

"Chris mother wants to have a family chat."

He clenches his jaw and I see his nose twitch. The subtle yet poisonous rage at his sister words nearly made me afraid. Chris was usually so charming and bubbly that I hardly imagined anyone could make him angry.

"I'll be up shortly Blair," he says.

She nods her head and I can tell she's biting back words. My presence must not be trusted enough for such secrets. I watch as Blair shuts the door and Chris gives an aggravated sigh.

"The world closing in on you?" I say as a light joke.

He smiles charmingly and nods his head. Chris has both of his arms on both sides of my body. He's holding my shot in one and his other is clenched harshly. So bad that I notice the strain he's putting on his fingers. Without fully thinking I tilt his head up with my gloves hands. His chin rests in my palm as words find their way to the surface.

"You know letting things build up is not healthy," I say and he raises an eyebrow.
"Well doctor," he says and dazzles a smile "What is good for me then?"

His smile is so cute that I find myself mirroring it. Desperately I want to run my free hand through his hair and name a list of things that could be better. I want to lean my lips into his and kiss him. But I didn't belong to him and I had no intentions of pretending I did. His chin still rests in my palm and he searches my eyes for something. Perhaps lust or longing. Two things I've grown accustom to hiding deliciously well.

I have to keep reminding myself I'm another game to him. Another mission that must be passed. A person to conquer. A flag that can be strung on his wall of stolen hearts.

"For starters you could go outside. You don't want to begin to end up looking sick do you?"

It's a word play on my condition and he rolls his eyes. Chris lifts his head from my palm and I fold it back in my lap. He takes my arm and injects the shot and we don't speak for the rest of the morning together.

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Breakfast is skipped by everyone because of the amount of people throwing up. I've been sitting at the cafeteria table for quite some time now. My head pulses with the same pressure as before. My skin itches but I keep Chris's warning of scratching off my skin in the back of my head. Christina arrives crying and has to be forced to sit next to me. Big patches of reg angry dots have spread across her body.

Blair and Chris eventually come into the cafeteria with bright smiles on their faces. Chris speaks charmingly and cheerfully as the cameras record his happy go lucky attitude. He manages to cheer a few up but the rest of us wallow in misery. I lay my cheek against the table when Blair begins to speak.

"I know it's painful everyone but this is a test of with standing. Be successful in staying alive until noon and you will be given the antidote."

No one reply's to her sluggish words so she summons in servants to help drag us to beds. The cafeteria in a mere amount of minutes is transformed in a hospital. White beds with puke buckets at the side have been managed to be placed down a row. People are guided up if they ask for help. The others who can manage to stand shuffle their way to an untaken bed.

A guard comes and puts his hands under my arm pits to pull me up. I push him away from my body and insist that I don't need help.

"Alpha requested we help you ma'm," the guard persists "he's worried your going to collapse."

I again push his hands away and take more steps toward an empty bed. Someone beside me rushes to a puke bucket and throws up blood. I'm nearly to an unused bed when my head begins to swirl. The pounding in my skull becomes to much and I dig my nails into my head to stop the pain. I'm about to release my claws and let them puncture into my skull when I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head. My body begins to fall through air and I thud against the hard tile of the cafeteria.

People walk around my body and one person mumbles something about being stubborn. I feel hands pull at my eyelids and I try to raise my hands to swat them away. A cold sensation levitates from my wrist into the rest of me. My eyes fly open and I see servants and Chris all kneeling beside me. I raise my hand to my head and my eyebrows clash at the bump on it. I try to sit up but a dizziness consumes me.

"What?" I say confused.

I notice Chris hand is gripping onto my wrist. The same wrist that I got the cold sensation from. Chris doesn't speak to me but tells the servants to go help others. He scoops me up into his arms and brings me to a bed. I lay on the bed in confusion and watch as Chris takes a blanket and tucks it up to my chin.

"Sometime you've got to stop being so stubborn," he remarks to me.
"I'm not," I comment and he tosses me a look.
"You refuse all help Caliana," he says and sits by my feet "not everything is out to get you."

I roll my eyes in anger. Chris was deliberately attacking me because I refused his help. How fragile was his ego that he became so offended at mere matters.

"Maybe you don't know what's good for me Chris. Your not the answer all the damn time."

I've now pissed him off with my statement.

"Yeah I'm not always the answer," he hisses through a smile "but you obviously don't know what's good for you."
"I don't need a prince or some white knight," I growl back.

I try to sit up to get closer to his face and say this but the pressure in my head prevents me from rising. He knows this and to piss me off further his stands and kneels next to my head.

"Your right you don't need that," he smiles sarcastically "but everyone needs someone to help them."

And before I can fire off anymore comments he stands and walks off. I hold onto the taste of anger and guilt as I watch him walk. The anger is fueled by the knowing that he is right. Chris wasn't trying to play my savior. He wasn't trying to steal me away from everyone. But I was so angry with myself for not having the tools to help myself. So angry that he had the tools to help me and I didn't even mind when he did.