Page 26 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
I nod, curiosity piqued.
The infirmary is small, the air sterile and laced with the faint scent of antiseptics.Rows of bottles filled with different types of pills line a glass cabinet, the labels neatly handwritten.“Doc makes them,” Tara explains, “He supplies a few of the other packs, too.”She shrugs.
I take note of the unlocked cabinets, a plan formulating in my mind when I notice one row sayssleeping pills.Tara leads me out and back to the kitchen, and I am told to cut up onions.I peer around to see Tara talking to the main chef.Suddenly, a brilliant thought occurs to me.I flick my thumb off the blade, checking how sharp it is before I take a deep breath and slice my hand on purpose.Hearing me hiss, Tara glances over at me while all I can think is I should have used a different knife, one not covered in onion juices.
Tara panics, “Why aren’t you healing?”she snaps at me, pressing a tea towel to it.Her eyes meet mine and she remembers.“Right, crap forgot.No wolf.Quick,” she gushes, rushing me back to the infirmary.She opens drawers and cabinets, grabbing materials she needs.As soon as her back is turned, I snatch the sleeping pills when she’s not looking, stuffing the small bottle inside my bra.She carefully wraps my hand.
Back in the kitchen, I am placed on kids’ duty of manning the pantry and passing out everything requested.Tara no longer trusts I know how to handle a knife.But I prefer this while I go over my plan in my head: knock him out then sneak out while everyone sleeps.Maybe by late tomorrow afternoon I can be back at Grandma’s and we can make a run for it.
“Six more potatoes,” Tara calls out and I nod, passing them to her.She hands me a cloth, “Chef said to wipe the benches down in there.”
I nod, accepting the task.Little does she know it gives me a perfect opportunity to use a can of soup to crush the pills in the pantry.Glancing around, I sweep it into my palm.This would be so much easier if I had a funnel or piece of paper.Just then, I spot Dion’s whiskey bottle.
The cook sent me to grab it earlier.It’s laced with blood so he’s the only one who drinks it.I set the fun task of making sure it is shaken well to mash up any congealed pieces, the thought nearly making me gag.I snatch the bottle as the chef starts barking orders for meals to be taken out.He stares at me.
“Grab the napkins and bring the last tray out along with his whiskey.”
I smile and nod.Honestly, I’m proud of myself.I disguise it in Dion’s favorite bottle of whiskey and go on to serve dinner like nothing happened.When Dion lifts his glass, a smudge of the powder clinging to the rim catches his attention and my eyes widen in horror.I was in such a rush I hadn’t had a chance to wash my hands.“Must be residue from the dishwasher,” I say quickly, praying he won’t suspect.He brings the glass to his lips, and I watch in anticipation when he stops and sets the glass down.
Dion glares at me, his gaze piercing, and pushes the glass toward me.“Drink it,” he orders.I feel my heart clench, and stomach drop, the realization of my failed plan hitting me like a ton of bricks.I know that many sleeping pills may kill me without my wolf.Someone as big as him, it would just make him sleep; he’s immortal after all, so I crushed the entire bottle up.“No,thank you,” I decline, averting my gaze, and Tara’s eyes widen a little before they dart to the bottle of whiskey.
I swallow, guiltily, feeling the eyes of everyone watching me.
“I said drink it!”he screams, his fist coming down on the table as he orders me.The command washes over me, and I snatch up the glass.Bringing it to my lips, I chug the entire glass in one mouthful.It burns and tastes ghastly, but Dion pours another.He pushes the glass toward me again, and I shake my head.
“Drink it,” he once again orders.Tears brim in my eyes.I’m going to die.I’m gonna die!With Dion’s command ringing in my ears, I am forced to down the spiked whiskey, the potent mix and blood burning its way down my throat.He pours another glass.
“Please, no more,” I beg.“I can’t drink anymore.”I worry, my heart beating faster in my chest, the drug’s effects taking swift hold of me.
“Why can’t you?”he questions.My pulse thrums loudly in my ears, drowning out all surrounding noise.What the fuck is in those pills?I wonder as my surroundings blur, my heart rate thumping erratically in my chest.When I say nothing, Dion speaks again, nudging the glass.
“Drink it,” Dion orders, only this time, it’s a whisper.Sweat beads on my neck and my hand trembles as I try to fight his command.
“It wasn’t a choice,” Dion states, and I shakily lift the glass to my lips.
I can hear everyone talking softly as Dion tells them to finish their dinner.Dion, however, doesn’t eat, he just watches me.I feel queasy, and I notice Dion waves Tara over.
She obeys and then rushes off somewhere.Time seems to slow right down.My heart is pumping loudly in my ears, and I feel like I am burning up.
Tara returns, passing Dion something.Through my blurred vision, I can’t tell what it is.
Dion rises, and his Beta, Kyrio, stands.
Dion grabs me and jams his fingers down my throat.However, I feel like jelly, my limbs are floppy, and are no longer working, my tongue is thick in my mouth and my limbs do not cooperate.
”What is it?”his Beta panics.
“Sleeper pills,” Dion shouts.The Beta gasps and suddenly, everyone is up and moving
“I’ll grab Doc!”Kyrio calls out, taking off, and Dion scoops me up, then starts running.
“You foolish girl,” Dion snaps at me as a cold, hard surface jolts me back to consciousness.Dion is there, panic etched on his face as he shoves his fingers down my throat, trying to induce vomiting.Tara is suddenly prying my mouth open, and I can hear things clanging around, falling off shelves.
Dion shoves a tube down my throat as another man comes in.I assume he’s the doctor Kyrio was speaking of.“How long ago?”a deep voice asks and Tara answers.
“Ten minutes, fifteen max.”Suddenly a needle is plunged into my arm while I gag around the tube.
“She’s gonna need your blood, some will be in her blood stream already if not all of it may be.”
