Page 65 of Forbidden Mischief
What is he trying to accomplish? Does he think this is going to get me to come back to the pack?
Why would he even want me to? He clearly hates me and doesn’t accept who I am.
But, of course, he’s not just going to let me get away and go off to be happy somewhere else. Not when he can have me in his clutches to control me and make me miserable. It’s what he’s best at. Been doing it my whole damn life.
Trying again, but slower this time, I manage to get to my hands and knees.
For a moment, the pain is almost too much to handle. The only things I can hear are the sounds of my heavy breathing and the blood from my racing heart beating in my ears.
Opening my eyes, I try to get them to adjust to the dark, but it’s pitch back in here.
“Hello!” I call out, wincing as the sound of my loud voice makes my head pound.
I wait and listen. No one responds but I can hear sounds, like feet shuffling. And, is that someone breathing?
Is there someone with me? My head looks around at nothing.
“Is anyone there? Dad? Hello!”
For the first time in a long time, I feel fear running coldly through my veins.
It only amplifies when the light turns on, and everything around me comes into view.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand as every muscle in my body stiffens.
My eyes lock on my father’s from across what looks to be a dirt pit, not a dirt cell like I thought.
Not just any pit, but the pack fighting pit. The one that has seen blood spilled more times than I can count. The ground is more dried blood than anything else.
My breathing picks up as anger fills me. “What the hell is this?” I ask, raising my voice and ignoring the pain in my head.
He takes a step forward and glares down at me. “No son of mine will like dick,” he growls. “So if I have to beat the fuckingstraight back into you, I will.” His lips curve into a sinister grin. “Or, should I say, we will.”
Fingers curling into the loose dirt below me, I raise my lip in a growl. “You can’t be fucking serious? Do you really believe that's going to work? I can tell you now, no matter what you do to me, I’m still gonna like dick.” I smirk. “Preferably my mate’s dick.”
A growl rips from his chest as he takes another step forward and kicks me in the face.
I grunt, trying to breathe through the pain as blood fills my mouth.
He grabs the back of my head by the hair and yanks it backwards. He leans in close and my stomach rolls at the smell of his rancid breath from chewing tobacco and beer. What the fuck did my mother ever see in this monster? He’s nothing but a vile creature, inside and out.
“I’m very fucking serious. Sure as hell doesn’t hurt to try, now does it?” he chuckles. “The other alphas are gonna be here any moment now, and I know they’re just as eager as I am to remind you where your place is. Here. On the fucking ground at my feet like the dirt you are. I hope you have the strength to fight them all off.” He laughs again. “Even if you don’t, at least make sure you die trying. Don’t wanna go out like a weak little bitch now, do you? Either way, you won’t be leaving here ever wanting to look at another cock again. We’ll make sure of it.”
He lets go of my hair and takes a step back.
My heavy head moves to the side to see the door open.
One by one, men make their way into the room and surround me until I’m trapped.
There has to be a good fifteen to twenty men in here. Some of them I recognize, ranging from early twenties to mid forties.
I’m truly fucking screwed.
Whatever they gave me after I passed out is still in my body. My limbs feel weak, my thoughts are fuzzy.
I don’t have the strength to even stand, let alone fight these men.
“What’s wrong?” a guy taunts. “Too much of a little bitch to fight?” He kicks me hard in the stomach, and I grunt. They laugh as I curl in on myself, pain blooming through my ribs.
