Page 58 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
The guards open the doors without question. We’re back in our room in seconds, the door slamming shut behind us with a sharp clang of metal. Javi drops me onto the bed—not roughly, but not gently either. I bounce once, my limbs scrambled, and then he’s towering over me, his green eyes flashing with fury.
“Scream,” he whispers.
My stomach flips. “What?”
He lunges forward so fast I don’t have time to flinch—just grabs my wrists and pins them to the mattress above my head.
“Scream!” he roars, right in my face.
I scream.
It’s not even fake at first—just pure instinct, my voice ragged and high with fear.
“Keep going,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “They need to think I’m punishing you.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer. He snarls again, loud and vicious, before pushing away from the bed and stalking to the door. He presses his ear to the metal.
I try to breathe. My heart’s hammering. My throat burns. But I force myself to whimper, loud enough to sell it. A sob catches in my throat—not entirely fake—and I let it out, hoping it’ll help me stay safe.
He stays by the door for another few seconds. Then he turns, pacing a tight line, his fingers combing through his damp hair.
“Why the hell did you do that?” he snaps.
I flinch. “I don’t… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he growls.
His voice isn’t loud now. It’s just raw. Torn open.
He drags both hands down his face and lets out a breath like it’s trying to tear him apart on the way out. “I should be the one who’s sorry,” he mutters. “That I brought you here. That I let them touch you. That I didthatto you. Fuck!”
He spins and punches the wall. The sound of it makes me jump—and then I hear the dent form in the metal.
Javi snarls under his breath, chest rising and falling like he’s trying not to shift.
“You had to,” I say softly. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he says.
But before he can finish, we both freeze.
Footsteps. Heavy ones. Approaching.
Javi’s eyes lock on mine.
“No, please don’t!” I cry out. “It hurts!”
He blinks—then catches on.
I ramp it up, scrambling back against the bed like I’m trying to escape him.
“I won’t do it again! I’m sorry, I’m sorry?—”
Tears sting my eyes. This time, theyarereal. I’m still shaking. Still scared. Still…
“You need to behave,” he growls toward the door, and the voice he uses sounds real enough that it makes my whole body tense.
“I won’t! I mean—I will! Please!”
