Page 128 of My Forbidden Alpha

“You’re beginning to make me think you care, Elijah,” I whisper.

His eyes soften. “You have no fucking idea how I feel, Red.”

“Then show me,” I whisper, wanting to feel his plush lips against mine. I don’t need to ask twice. He instantly leans in, his lips claiming mine in a sizzling, passionate kiss. He holds my hand to his chest, his other hand cupping the back of my head tenderly. His kiss drowns out the pain in my neck.

His touch is tender. Despite the passion and emotions that burn deep into the kiss, there’s something about this kiss; one that makes my heart pound wildly.

I try to keep up, but I can’t. Either I’m too tired or he is simply too fast, kissing me as if this is the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Our hearts are racing, and everything is so heightened that I can even hear the quietest sound of our lips meeting. Along with our soft sighs and breathless intakes, which are the only things that can be heard in the room.

His tongue slips into my mouth, exploring every inch, before he sucks on my tongue dominatingly, his grip on me tightening. I moan against his lips, my stomach a mess of butterflies, feeling the familiar ache settling between my thighs, the wetness building, the betraying scent of my arousal filling the air.

He breaks away when I need air, breathing slightly heavily himself. My gaze dips to the front of his pants and I’m satisfied to see I am not the only one turned on. But a light blush still coats my cheeks at the sight of his visible hard-on, making mycore throb.

“Don’t,” he groans when I giggle. “Trust me, I was not thinking about sex.”

“I know, I just love how I can affect you so easily,” I reply with a smirk. Elijah flashes me a smirk back, but the worry in his eyes remains.

I try to sit up, but Elijah swiftly scoops me up and adjusts my pillows, propping me up.

“Hey, take it easy. You were hurt quite bad.” My heart warms at the concern in his eyes.

My smile fades when his eyes run over my arms and legs. Not one wound, bruise, or mark is left on me. He still has his injuries, although they are on the way to healing, and mine are completely healed.

I tense, seeing the look in his eyes. My stomach churns as realisation seems to dawn on him. His heart is racing as he stares at me, as if he is piecing together the last pieces of the puzzle.

I have kept my rather fast healing on the down low, ever since I was little when we had moved to Jackson’s pack. I never let anyone know how fast I healed. The fear that someone like Zidane would realise and do the same to me made me hide it.

I knew I was different, and luckily I rarely got hurt, so it wasn’t hard to hide. But the way Elijah is looking at me now makes me uneasy.

Surprise, concern, doubt, fear, rage and the thumping of his heart makes me dread his next question as he looks up into my eyes.

“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth, Red?” he asks softly, but there’s an underlying tremble in it. He strokes my hair and for a second I tense, remembering Zidane’s touch, but then I take a deep breath.

This is not Zidane’s touch, it’s Elijah’s, and it is filled withsuch tenderness that I feel safe. His soothing caress brings me warmth and comfort. I close my eyes.

“Red?” he whispers.

I don’t know if I should. If I do, there’s no going back. I truly hope that it’s a different question and not what I think it will be.

“Sure,” I answer reluctantly, opening my eyes.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

His Promise

Scarlett

My breath hitches as I look at him.

“I’ve seen scars on Jessica. Dad told me her ex was abusive but I was under the impression that-”

“That I wasn’t tortured like Mama and Indigo,” I finish for him, trying not to let my emotions show. He’s watching me intently and I attempt a smile.

“But that’s not true is it? You suffered just as much as them, didn’t you?” he asks softly.

How can I tell him that I suffered far more than he could imagine? Although Mama would end up bedridden for days after a brutal beating, I was often subjected to weeks of torture. My punishment didn’t end when I succumbed to the pain or when I lost consciousness. No, for me, it continued; I was his plaything. The one he forced awake and tortured again just to test my limits.

I push the dark thoughts away, refusing to remember the pain. Trying not to think of Mama once whispering that I’ll be safer than Indigo because according to her, he didn’t hurt me as much as her.

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