Page 51 of My Ruthless Alpha

Despite feeling like I was moving, I couldn’t see anything around me. I could only feel that mysterious warmth and the involuntary sway of my limbs, more akin to a rag doll than anything else.

As I regained little pieces of consciousness, it felt like I was opening my eyes despite seeing only darkness. Then, faint blurs moved in and out of my vision.

I heard the rustle of leaves and the shuffle of something disturbing nearby grass, but none of it came fully into view just yet.

That unsure state made me feel like I was merely floating. Like I was no longer in my body, no longer navigating as I should be. As much as I wanted it to feel like a good experience, it wasn’t.

I didn’t feel in control. While my mind was filtering in more awareness, it seemed like my body wasn’t catching up as quickly, and in a way, I felt trapped in my own body. Like a prisoner who couldn’t fully wake up.

My heart should’ve been racing, yet it only seemed to flutter—far too weak to beat like it normally did. It felt almost slow and shallow like my life was barely hanging on by a thread.

As my body continued to move somehow, going in and out of fleeting moments of consciousness, I felt so disconnected and uncomfortable. Between that swaying, the sound of external movement, and the haze in my head, I just wanted to call out. To scream and get someone to help me.

But I didn’t know what I needed help from. I just wanted to feel normal, not like I was stuck in some sluggish, catatonic state.

The dark haze covering my eyes seemed to shift slightly after a while, letting me see fragments of skin and muscle. I could feel the soft material of a shirt against my cheek, along with what seemed like arms under my legs and around my back.

I was being carried. That made the most sense, given how it felt like I was swaying.

As more awareness crept in, I could make out the dark fabric of the shirt and the shifting of muscle beneath the material.

Given the warmth and strength of the individual and how I seemed to melt into them thoughtlessly, the first image that entered my mind was Beau’s face.

He probably found me somewhere and was taking me home…that had to be it.

I didn’t know how I ended up away from him or why, but in that moment, my thoughts only surrounded him. It put me at ease knowing he was carrying me—that I was safe.

Almost feeling like I was smiling, I shifted my head slightly and looked up through my lashes. Everything stillseemed blurry, but I could see more shapes and colors at the very least.

The fragments of him came into view, but where I expected to see that dark hair and brown eyes I admired so much, I saw something completely different.

Instead, light brown hair was swept back, leaving green eyes unobstructed. The person’s face looked a bit older, catching me by surprise. And the aura…that menacing aura couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else.

The more I was able to focus despite the exhaustion pulling me down, the more that familiar fear coursed through me.

It wasn’t Beau at all. It was Colton.

That anxiety spiked within me even if I couldn’t move. Everything hit me in a wave, and those images made my stomach clench with every negative feeling that hit me at once.

Him breaking into the house, fighting Miles, Hunter grabbing me, and Colton putting that capsule in my mouth…the mountain ash.

It was the reason I couldn’t move.

My consciousness was returning more and more, but the effects were still keeping me from functioning as I was meant to. As intended, I couldn’t feel my healing abilities kicking in, as the powered mountain ash was stalling it in a sense, which caused even more panic to wash through me.

Of course, everything was unraveling in my mind, but Colton and Hunter didn’t notice. They were too focused on moving forward, unaware of my internal freak-out.

Even if I couldn’t do anything about him carrying me and likely heading back to his grounds, every part of me was screaming to be put down. For it to be Beau carrying me instead.

It felt so wrong being in his arms. His very life source felt wrong to me, almost like we were two repelling forces not meant to come together.

He was the opposite of Beau in nearly every way, and something about that made my body reject him.

Colton wasn’t meant to be my mate, regardless of what he wanted, and even if he somehow managed to keep me away from Beau, I knew my wolf would never accept him. It was a lost cause, but I had the feeling he didn’t care.

Regardless of any opposition or resistance, Colton always did what he wanted. He took and took and always expected to be given whatever he desired.

But I wouldn’t.

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