Warning: half-assed editing job done while I was about to fall asleep. I'll do better editing later :)
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My sleep was restless the entire night. Tossing and turning, accommodating for my tied hands. I wake up for about the fifth time, this time to morning sunlight illuminating the curtains from behind.
Right then the door opens, revealing a very worn looking 'Riot Sydney.' His eyes are tired and there's dark purple semicircles beneath them. He looks freshly showered, his wet hair pressed down on his forehead.
His smell makes my wolf howl to the point that I have to take a few breaths to retain myself. A masculine cologne mixes with his natural piney, musky scent, making for my heart to falter a few beats.
He walks over, still refusing to look at me. My spirit drops.
For some reason, I crave his attention. That reason more than likely being the mate bond.
Doesn't he feel it, too?
He holds his palm out towards me.
"Hands," comes the same emotionless command.
I oblige, placing the tied bundle of rope in his open hand. With the other one he starts to cut me free with a single protruded claw on his index finger.
It slices the rope like a razor blade on paper, making me shudder inwardly. The thought of that same claw pressed against flesh, doing that exact same thing, is mortifying.
Once cut, the ropes fall from my wrists. The skin is an angry red, irritated and rubbed raw. The sweat in the abrasions only make it burn worse.
Riot seems to flinch at the sight, his eyes locked intently on my rose colored hands. For a brief moment, I get excited. The look in his eyes— locked anxiously on my hands— almost makes it look like he cares. Like it pains him to see.
When I think he's finally going to say something, he turns away abruptly with a quiet growl and heads for the exit.
And just like that, I'm left alone again.
• • •
Half an hour passes before I finally will myself to wander downstairs. When I do, there's no trace of Riot.
To both my dismay and my pleasure, I find his scent lingering faintly about the house. It triggers a desolate feeling in me. Something unexplainable.
Am I... missing him?
Before I get the chance to figure out what it is, three solid knocks sound from the front door.
At first I freeze, remembering Alpha Andre's latest command: put her back in the cell. Now they've come to get me. They know Riot brought me back and now they know that he's gone.
I take a shaky breath as the icy chill of vulnerability clenches my heart.
A few seconds later, three more knocks come, more impatiently now.
"Goddamn it, open the door, Adrienne!" A very irritated, yet comforting voice yells from the other side. A voice I've got stored away in my memory as belonging to the only friendly person in this pack.
YOU ARE READING
The Exiled Alpha | ✓
Werewolf"It's like he's a different breed of werewolf. Something... beyond us." • • • Adrienne Gage has spent her entire life being shunned and punished for her mouthy attitude, and being loyal to a pack which doesn't deserve her loyalty. It's been a year...
