Page 148 of My Forbidden Alpha

I frown, worry filling me. I don’t see Indigo like this often. I don’t say anything, about to rush past her when she freezes, staring at my neck.

“Wh-what’s that?” she whispers.

“Now’s not the time,” I answer, rushing past her and downthe stairs, taking them three at a time and jumping the last five. I tighten my towel around my breasts, running into the kitchen. The smell of blood and fear strong in the air.

I stop for a second, taking everything in, and my stomach churns at the sight before me.

“Elijah!” I yell, taking in how he has Dad pinned to the counter, noticing the crack in the table beside them, and one of the cupboard drawers are hanging off.

Mama is whimpering, her hand over her mouth as she stares with glassy eyes at the men before her. Her face is grey, and she’s shaking. I can see she is going back into her former shell.

I glance back at Elijah, realising that he’s done a number on Dad, realising his actions are reminding Mama of Zidane. Her eyes seem almost unseeing and her heart is racing way too fast.

“Elijah, stop,” I say sharply.

“Stay out of this, Scarlett. Take your mother out of the room,” Dad rasps, his eyes full of worry as he looks between me and Mama. I can’t help but feel warm at his concern for us and not himself, although he’s bleeding pretty badly.

“You should worry about yourself, no one else!” Elijah growls, slamming Dad’s head into the cupboard behind him, making me flinch at the loud sound.

I turn quickly, glancing at Indigo who is standing in the doorway, her heart thumping loudly. “Indy, take Mama now,” I order her.

“You come too,” she whispers, but I shake my head looking at the two men in front of me.

I’m not letting my family become like this.

“Go, Indy! Take Mama!” she breaks into a run the moment I stride over to Elijah. She grabs Mama’s arm and drags her from the room.

“Elijah… calm down… please.” I keep my voice firm yet calm as I place my hand on his shoulder. He tenses when my fingerstouch his skin. He turns to me, a deep frown on his face when he realises what I am wearing. His eyes, still full of rage, follow the water trail that trickles down between my breasts. His eyes widen in surprise, his grip loosening slightly as he looks away.

“Stay out of this, Red,” he says, his voice calmer.

“No. That’s your father you’re hurting… the man I see as my Dad,” I add softly, knowing that might just trigger him, but I don’t like him hurting him. His eyes flash in anger. “I know you’re hurt, but this isn’t the way to go about it. Let’s act like adults. Please, Elijah, you’ve hurt him enough.”

I pull him back slightly, and he loosens his grip slightly. Dad remains silent, observing us intently, and I remain smooth, knowing he’s watching my every move. But at the same time, I’m more concerned about Elijah hitting him again.

Elijah’s eyes meet my sage green ones, his own returning to their normal blue.

There’s pain in his eyes as he looks at me, then at Dad, before letting go of him roughly. Glaring coldly at him.

“If you have another kid, I swear by the Moon Goddess you can consider me dead,” he warns his dad icily. Taking hold of my wrist, he pulls me out of the room, making my eyes widen.

Dad is silent, and although I want to see how he is, Elijah’s grip is tight.

“Elijah!” I say as he pulls me down the hall from the kitchen and into the bathroom. Tugging me inside, he slams the door shut behind us and pulls me into his arms. He buries his nose into my neck, taking deep, calming breaths. I don’t say anything, standing on my tiptoes to try to make up for some of the height difference between us. My back arches slightly as he leans over me, holding me tightly and almost lifting me off the ground.

I place my hands on his chest. I can feel his racing heart beneath my fingertips. His embrace is tight, but I feel comforted by it. The negative feelings from earlier are washed away when Irealise why he left.

I can understand his pain, knowing how fast Dad moved on after his mama died. Anyone would be hurt by that.

“Are you ok?” I ask softly, sliding my hands up his chest. I cup his face, forcing him away from my neck so I can look at him. The slight prickle of his stubble, coarse against my fingers, feels good.

He doesn’t reply and I give him an apologetic smile, kissing his lips softly. “Stupid question… want to talk about it?” He looks away, his eyes softening despite the pain that still remains.

“Not really,” he admits. “Fuck, if you didn’t stop me…”

“I knew you’d listen. If not to me, the towel may have worked,” I say teasingly, trying to cheer him up. I hate seeing him so worked up.

“It sure as hell did. Knowing your pussy is fucking bare under that makes me want to bend you over and fuck you all over again,” he purrs in my ear. I shiver in pleasure, his words making me clench my thighs together and I give him a look.

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