Adored by the Alpha

Chapter 9

We all looked at the door, waiting for him to storm back in and kill someone, I suppose. After a minute, both my parent's eyes returned to me.

"My sweet baby girl..." my mom's arms wrapped around me, enveloping me in her familiar warmth and scent, the flowery scent of her perfume, and the dusty, mold-ish scent from our apartment.

She looked me up and down, tears filling her eyes when she looked at my face. "My sweet girl ... what happened? You're... your eye, your face it's black and blue an... oh my god, what did that awful monster do to you?"

I smiled weakly, taking her hands in mine. "To be fair, this wasn't him, he had ... he had left me in his bedroom and I-"

"In his bedroom?! Please tell me that he didn't... that he hasn't... that you haven't been..." my father stared at me desperately, not even being apple to utter the words.

I let go of one of my mom's hands, resting the one I had freed on my father's cheek. "No Papa, don't worry, nothing ... nothing like that happened. He just... left me there, and told me to wait for him to get back, and I tried to run. But in the parking lot, I stepped on some glass, and I fell and these... this Alpha and his Betas, they... they starting kicking me and... "

A lump got caught in my throat at the thought, images of the kicks, and the pain flashing before my eyes. "Papa, it hurt so much. I thought, I thought I was going to die, that I was never going to see you again,"

"Shh, don't worry sweetie pie, we're here now, and we can get to say our proper goodbyes before he... before he takes you away from us," his voice faded to a whisper when he reached the end of his sentence. He gently moved my hand from his cheek, holding it the same careful way he would when I would come home from dance practice crying, because some sick wolf-teenagers thought it was fun to chase 11 year old me all the way home, screaming how they were going to rape and kill me.

My mom tugged my other hand carefully, the worry-creases on her forehead coming into view. "Baby, I know the situation is awful, and trust me, I wish this had never happened... but is he... has he been nice to you? As much as I hate to say it, and trust me, sweetie, I do, he seems, I don't know, he seems to genuinely worry about you,"

I choked out a laugh. "Oh please mom, he only worries because he knows that I won't be able to carry his disgusting mutts if I'm crippled," I muttered, my eyes shifting to the door to make sure he wouldn't barge in and rip each of us apart limb from limb.

She pressed her lips together, nodding absentmindedly. "You're probably right... but how are you feeling?"

I laughed dryly, my ribs complaining profoundly. "Everything hurts, and... and he's... he's being so nice and polite and civil and I don't know what it means, like, it's like that serial killer thing, you know what the police officers say, uh... 'we expect a monster and end up catching a human', I mean, he yells and gets mad at other people, but he seems to be so nice to me, but that doesn't make any sense because I, of all people, should be the one he's treating like crap, and yet he's not. I can't explain it mom, I just... my body hurts, and my mind is in a whirlwind,"

"I wish I could tell you what to do sweetie, but I have absolutely no idea," she whispered, stroking my hair, carefully bringing a bit of her with as she pulled her hand away.

I shook my head, pressing my lips together. A hand came up under my chin, nudging my head up, so my eyes met with those of my father. "Don't worry sweetie pie, I'm sure... I hope we'll get through this, all of us, but... enough of this. I've never been to a mating ball, how did it work? What happened?"

***

The next few hours we just spent... talking. About all sorts of things. My grades, memories, the one awful family picnic my father had planned when I was 8, which ended up being an absolute disaster, ending with us and our sandwiches being soaking wet, running home in the rain, my mom yelling at him for not having checked the weather.