His Little Baby

Chapter 3-

"She found the colors to paint him where the world had left him gray." - Atticus.

Hades Grey

It was no tattooed man or skinny little boy. No, it was something way beyond my own comprehension, and I didn't know what to do with it. She most certainly didn't look like a killer, and it confirms my suspicions. My uncle put someone innocent in here. 

The girl cannot possibly be a killer. I'm not saying women can't but anyone so pure...it's just not possible. My heart races, my palms sweating, Knox howling in my head. And I know I've found her, my mate. My beautiful and sweet and perfect mate.

"Keys, now."

"Yes, sir."

Levi practically runs over to the door, sliding the key in quickly and unlocking the door. I feel myself losing control over Knox who rips the cell door off its hinges. The adorable girl on the bed shakes violently, scooting her small body to the wall. As if I could ever hurt something so precious. Her espresso brown eyes gaze deeply into mine, tears gathering at the edges. 

Her skin is so pale from being underground with no sun for two years. I eye her greasy hair, the knotted parts, and the dry ends. Her face dirty with dirt and spots of blood from god knows what. Naturally, she's beautiful, but she would look much healthier once she's had real food, water, a shower, clean clothes, fresh air, and sun.

And I'm gonna give it all to her. No one is going to touch her, look at her, even breathe in her fucking direction. I'm gonna kill my uncle next. Once I've made sure that this sweet little thing is all taken care of, I'm going torture that man. His blood is going to be on my hands, and I'm not going to regret any part of it.

It's going to feel so good watching the blood drip out of his throat as he slowly chokes, his eyes gazing in mine as I smile. A shiver of pleasure runs through me just thinking about it, but that's not my top priority at the moment. It's getting the little girl to safety and warmth. Out of this fucking basement.

I try not to growl as to not scare the girl, but Knox cannot hold back. My grey eyes flicker black as Knox comes to the surface of my mind. The little girl, who's probably eighteen, bravely reaches out to touch the side of my face. I hum in approval as her touch sends waves of calmness and serenity through me.

Tingles reach my toes, my whole body feeling as though I've finally found my home. It doesn't take the girl long to realize what she has done because her eyes widen, and she jumps away from me. I bite my bottom lip as I watch her tentative-self move, no words spoken between us. Her eyes flick over my shoulder as she watches the four guards behind me.

"They won't hurt you. No one will ever hurt you again."

Her head tilts to the right, confusion filling her features. I slowly reach my tattooed hand to the bed - if that's what you can even call it - leaving my palm facing the ceiling. She examines it for a minute as if she's surprised I'm not hitting her with it before her own inches forward. I just want to touch her again. To feel the sparks again.

Her little fingers lay on top of mine, her hand not fully in mine, and I see the adorable difference between our hand sizes. With a soft touch, her fingers dance across my skin, tracing the tattoos that have been placed there. She looks at me fascinated. I can tell she's a werewolf, so she's probably feeling the tingles as well.

It's everything to watch her eyes light up at what she feels from me. What she can only get from me. It makes my possessive, dominant, alpha male part of me be filled with satisfaction. It's like she hasn't felt human contact for a long time, and I bet she hasn't. 

Getting comfortable, she scoots forward, her natural scent becoming more prominent the closer she gets. My two favorite scents, apples and caramel, mix together. I wonder what I smell like to her. I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder what her name is. I wonder what she has gone through. I wonder about everything she is and what she wants to be.