Page 57 of Stalked By the Alphas
Reluctantly, I open my eyes. I have no choice but to obey him.
His gaze is hungry, possessive. “That’s better. I want to see those pretty eyes when I claim what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours,” I spit out, a spark of defiance flaring despite my terror.
His eyes flash dangerously. “You’ve always been mine, Hazel. From the moment I first touched you, and now, I’m going to remind you of that fact.”
As his hands roam lower, I let out a choked sob. I’m all alone with no one to help me. Maybe it’s just easier to surrender and not fight. I fought last time, and it hurt so much. Maybe this time, if I pretend to be pliant, it will be better. My mind starts to close off as I convince myself this is the better way. My hands are tied, and I’m strung up like a piece of meat. I can’t fight him, even if I wanted to.
But then he walks back from me with a small smile as he assesses me. He reaches out and slowly runs the back of his finger over my landing strip. I shudder, but he pulls back quickly, a look of distaste falling over his expression.
“We will have to clean you up,” he states coldly.
I frown for a second until his meaning hits me in the gut like a gross, creepy, disgusting wrecking ball. I kick out at him, unable to help the visceral response to his meaning, but he grabs my ankle and squeezes painfully, twisting until I cry out.
“Naughty girl,” he hisses.
He drops my leg heavily and steadily leans over me to grab the ropes that are caught up on a hook above my head. My arms ache when they drop, but he is quick to grab the rope and haul me to my feet before he shoves me down onto my hands and knees. I landawkwardly, my wrists twisting painfully. He starts walking across the room, and my hands are yanked out from underneath me. I whimper and start crawling or risk being dragged naked over the cold stone floor. My knees are bruised and bleeding by the time we reach the cupboard, and I cry out.
“Please, no! I can’t go back in there!”
His sinister grin is chilling. He lifts me up, shoves me into the small cupboard, and slams the door shut. I hear a lock clicking into place, and my heart nearly busts out of my chest with fear.
The darkness of the cupboard engulfs me, pressing in from all sides. I struggle to breathe, my chest heaving with panicked gasps.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please let me out.”
David’s muffled voice comes through the door. “I’ll be back soon, Hazel. Be a good girl and stay quiet.”
I hear his footsteps retreating, then silence. Tears stream down my face as I curl into myself, trying to make my body as small as possible in the cramped space. My skin crawls where he touched me, where his cum still sticks to my breasts.
Time loses all meaning in the oppressive darkness. Has it been minutes? Hours? I drift in and out, memories blurring with reality. Sometimes, I’m five years old again, cowering in fear. Other times, I’m back with Carter, Noah and Zach on the beach, laughing and enjoying life. I’m in my bookshop, happy and content.
But always, I snap back to this nightmare.
Eventually, I hear footsteps approaching again. Thelock clicks as the door opens. I blink against the sudden brightness of the torch shining directly into my face, my eyes struggling to focus.
“There’s my good girl,” a voice croons, but it isn’t David. “Did you miss me?”
“Ayden?” I ask with a frown, unable to see anything.
He grabs my arm, hauling me out of the cupboard. My legs are weak and shaky, and I stumble as Ayden drags me out of the cupboard after being cramped for so long. He keeps a bruising grip on my arm as he pulls me across the room.
“Please, help me!” I say desperately, my voice hoarse as the black spots in front of my eyes start to disappear now that he isn’t shining the light in my face. “Help me get out of here!”
Ayden’s lips curl into a cruel smile. “Oh, Hazel, I’m not here to help you.”
My stomach drops as the full horror of the situation hits me. Ayden isn’t swooping in to save me; he is part of this sick, twisted game.
Ayden shoves me onto the narrow bed, quickly binding my wrists above me again. He growls low in his throat, demanding supplication from me. I struggle weakly, but it’s useless. He ties my ankles to the end of the thin metal bedposts, spreadeagled on the narrow mattress.
“Uncle David will be back soon,” Ayden says, running a possessive hand up my calf. “I’m going to clean you up first for him.”
I shudder at the family connection. “Please,” I whisper. “You don’t have to do this. Let me go.”
Ayden’s eyes harden as he pulls out a shaving kit from a small box nearby. I whimper and try to close my legs, but the ropes hold me firmly and spread open.
“Now, now,” Ayden chides, running a hand up my inner thigh. “Be a good little omega for me, Hazel. This will go much easier if you don’t fight it.”
