Alpha's Claim

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Alpha's Claim Page 15

by Amelia Hutchins


  The gash in my head hadn’t healed, and my hair was matted from lying beside the dead, using the clothes they wore for warmth. The flesh of my arms was flayed open, revealing the layers of fatty tissue and muscle it had exposed.

  Tears swam in Toralei’s eyes, yet she didn’t move from where she stood. I didn’t need to know she would continue standing by me. She was my best friend and my beta. Chaos rushed toward me, his eyes widening with fear as someone caught him. He struggled against their form, but I didn’t slow or stop my forward movement.

  Saint had taken everything from me. He’d turned the pack against me, accusing me of heinous crimes without proof. He’d claimed me, forcing me to cling to an empty mating that held no meaning. I’d been hung up and left to die, like meat in the freezer. The only thing that remained was my inner strength and my pride. I’d be damned if he took that from me, too.

  Inside the lodge, people turned toward me, staring at the dishevelment of my form before slowly turning their backs to me. No emotion escaped the mask I wore. No sign of pain slipped onto my face as I moved down the hallway, leaving a trail of blood and filth as I headed to my bedroom.

  The moment I was inside, I turned, trying to close the door, but Saint shook his head. Both he and Eryx entered my room, watching as I backed away from them. I didn’t speak, couldn’t manage to get words out past the anger and hurt that hung heavily on my soul. My eyes rolled, and even that hurt to accomplish.

  “Start the shower, Eryx,” Saint ordered, studying me. “You need to sit down. You’re losing too much blood.”

  I ignored him. Standing tall, I pushed my shoulders back in the stiff position in which I’d grown accustomed since being beaten. My chest rose and fell with short, quick breaths that didn’t cause my body to scream in silent agony. I could hear the deep rattle in my chest, knowing I was getting close to the limit of endurance I’d learned to sustain.

  “I didn’t want you to hurt, Brae. I only intended for you to know what it was like to be locked in a box, waiting for someone to save you. I need you to understand that,” Saint urged, searching my face to see if I’d grasped his meaning.

  “The water is warm,” Eryx stated from the bathroom.

  I moved toward the open doorway, entering the room to lean against the counter. Saint came in behind me, watching me struggle to remove the nightgown. Pain tore through my arms as I fought and struggled to remove the garment that reeked of death and decay. My arm went limp, and I closed my eyes as a soft exhale rattled up from my lungs, escaping from my throat.

  Saint moved in behind me, flicking a knife open that made the air whoosh from my lungs as my pupils dilated. He swallowed loudly, bringing it up to slice through the spaghetti straps that sat on my shoulders. It didn’t drop to the floor, stuck to the wounds that covered my body. He hissed, slowly peeling it off before turning me around, lowering his stare to where the panties had been cut open.

  “What the hell?” Saint growled, his eyes flashing with rage before they met mine.

  I didn’t speak or even acknowledge him. I didn’t need to tell him what Lucas had done to me because the cuts still covered my sex from where he’d returned, alone, using a knife on me. He hadn’t raped me, but he hadn’t left me untouched either.

  “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Eryx growled, his eyes turning dark with rage.

  Saint swallowed, shaking visibly with anger. “Who did this, Braelyn?” he demanded, his tone filled thick with emotion.

  I leaned over, ripping the garter away as a scream exploded from my lungs. Lucas had bragged about how stupid I was and how naïve I’d been, never actually knowing him. He boasted about how he’d put on the perfect show for everyone, including Carleigh, feigning shock and outrage at the things Saint had accused me of doing. Lucas was proud to have forced my hand to kill his sister, using her and her child as fodder, helping Saint to turn the pack against me. He’d told me all about how he’d helped my father torture me. I’d never been wise to the fact it was Lucas wielding the knife when my father tired of slicing it into my flesh. I’d been foolish to think him a friend, but I’d been starved for companionship when Saint was sent away.

  Lucas was the one guy I had counted on for strength, and he had been one of my tormentors all along, hiding his scent with pepper or bleach to keep me from knowing it was him. I’d begged and pleaded for him to stop inside the storage container, but he enjoyed giving pain in the worst imaginable way. Of course, Lucas had bragged about never taking it too far, but Saint had removed Fenrir’s protection by mating with me. With the protection gone, Lucas was able to wield other things against me, and my entire nether region was a mass of cuts, proof that he’d enjoyed playing with me.

  Eryx lowered to the floor, yanking the stockings down before lifting my foot to remove them. I pushed past Saint when Eryx freed me from the material, trembling violently as the heat from the spray touched my frozen flesh.

  A sob exploded from my chest, and I moved to the wall, pressing my forehead against it. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and closed my eyes as I hit the ground, crying out as my strength waned.

  Saint entered the shower a few moments later, grabbing the shampoo to lather my hair. Eryx joined us, and they worked together, silently cleaning my battered body. Saint pulled me against him, turning me toward Eryx, who peered down at my body with a murderous look dancing in his gaze.

  “We find Lucas, and we return what he did to her tenfold, Saint,” he growled, his midnight gaze sliding up to meet mine.

  “Agreed,” Saint whispered, holding me carefully as Eryx used a soft cloth to wash my body. They worked like they’d done this before, helping one another to ease the pain. My eyes closed against the dark blotches swimming in my vision.

  I gasped, screaming as Eryx washed between my thighs. Air refused to reach my lungs as I fought against him cleaning my sex, riddled in shallow cuts. His jaw clenched, and pain filled his eyes.

  “She may have internal damage,” Eryx admitted.

  Saint’s hands tightened around my chest, and his lips brushed against my shoulder. He was prepared to subdue me if I fought against Eryx cleaning the wounds. Saint continued, studying my face as I slid the mask back over my emotions. His attention shifted over my shoulder, and he exhaled slowly.

  “How do you do that, Princess? How do you just shut it the fuck off?” Eryx asked, finishing with his task.

  Saint stood me up with him, stepping into the warm spray before moving us out of the shower. Eryx helped him wrap a towel around me, noticing that blood seeped into the fabric. Before I could protest, he picked me up and walked me into the bedroom where Xari sat on the chair, holding up a bag of blood.

  “Vampire blood mixed with healing herbs,” she stated, shaking her head. “Ezekiel and Enzo said to make her drink it all and then have her smoke this shit.” She tossed a tin onto the bed, lifting her gaze to mine. “My father wants to know if they—if they used a blade?”

  “Yes, they did. Have Carleigh placed into a holding cell, and don’t let her out of your sight. Have Toralei tell the pack that Lucas is wanted for treason against his alpha. I want that mother fucker hunted down and brought back here alive,” Saint whispered, and I shivered at his tone, filled with hatred and rage.

  “You won’t find him,” I stated, trying to get out of his hold.

  “Stop fighting me, Brat.”

  “Don’t ever call me that again,” I snarled, staring into his rounded gaze with a rage of my own. “Put me down, now.”

  He didn’t argue, placing me on my feet. I moved to my bed, fighting to get the covers off as the towel they’d wrapped around me, dropped to the floor. Sitting carefully on the bed, I lifted one leg onto the mattress and then the other as Xari grimaced, turning white before she hid the horror on her face.

  Saint reached over, covering my body with the blankets before he undid the bag of blood and held it out for me to take. I didn’t argue, knowing that vampire blood would h
eal me a lot faster than my body could, given the amount of damage it had sustained this time.

  Usually, my father was careful not to inflict too much damage, wanting me to appear whole in front of the pack. After all, he didn’t want them knowing he tortured and mutilated his daughter. That would have caused the pack to rise against his rule. He’d been careful and strategic in what he’d done or allowed those to inflict onto my body. And on the occasion that he took things too far, he had told the pack that I was away on pack business.

  The one time he’d lost control in a rage, it took me over a month to heal. One thousand shallow cuts, and then they’d flayed the flesh from my body. It had been one of the few times I’d begged for him to end it, to take my life because the pain had been too much to bear. My father was a master of agony, and Lucas, who admitted to cutting the skin from my stomach, thighs, and arms, had been present for that one.

  Once I’d finished the blood, Eryx lit a joint from the tin Xariana had tossed onto the bed, handing it to me. My arm wouldn’t lift, and my entire body felt as if it were made of solid concrete. He moved closer, taking a drag before pressing his lips against mine, blowing the smoke deep into my lungs.

  “Hold it in, Braelyn,” he stated, exhaling. “Good girl.” He smiled sadly, pushing the wet hair away from my face.

  “Move, asshole,” Saint grunted, sliding onto the bed beside me, taking the joint from Eryx and holding it against my lips. “Xari, after you’ve finished disclosing the information to your father, see if the medic can find something to help knock her out.”

  A knock sounded, and Xariana rose from her chair, opening the door a crack before turning to look at Saint.

  “It’s your goon squad. They’ve been outside the door since you two closed it in their faces.” Xari stepped back a moment before it swung wide, revealing Saint’s crew and a few others that sat in the hallway.

  “Brae needs rest,” Saint stated, but they ignored him and piled into the room.

  “Was she done like the others?” Phenrys asked, his pretty eyes watching mine.

  “Yeah, I think we finally found him,” Eryx growled, and my stare slid to his, narrowing on him. He noticed my expression and exhaled. “We’ve been tracking a monster who likes to use knives on females. He flays the flesh from their stomach and then places it onto their vaginas to make them appear…”

  “Like dolls,” I whispered, holding his stare.

  “How did you know that, Brae?” Saint asked.

  “An educated guess,” I whispered hoarsely, swallowing past the copper taste of blood that remained in my mouth. “Why else would he take flesh from the stomach, placing it over the vagina? Maybe he didn’t get enough playtimes with Barbie and was jealous of Ken.”

  “Sick fucking bastard,” Xariana groaned, turning her attention toward the door where the demon twins leaned against it, peering into the room.

  “Lucas needs to be put down, and it needs to be done in an excruciatingly painful manner,” Enzo stated, dragging his eyes over my face. I shivered at the look of curiosity, as if he knew every dark secret I held without needing to be told. The shadows moved around him, and his lips jerked into a sinister smirk that caused a tremor to rush through me. “Ezekiel, she needs another bag of O positive. See that Ian is thanked, and that he has what we offered him in return. Notify Cole Van Helsing that we need his services to hunt down a Fenrir wolf. One who didn’t get enough playtime with Barbie and looks like Ken. Someone should have told that bastard that Barbie gets off with G.I. Joe, and only him.”

  “Sick, fuck,” Ezekiel snorted, his eyes holding mine as he tilted his head. “Don’t waste the dragon grass, pretty Princess. It’s hard to come by, even for creatures like us. It will free your mind of the pain and allow you to rest without nightmares. Unless, of course, you’re into that?” he asked in a hope-filled tone.

  “Fuck off, demon. She’s not yours to toy with and in no condition to deal with your games,” Saint grunted, settling beside me in nothing more than a pair of loose-fitting shorts. “Inhale,” he ordered, holding the joint to my lips. I licked my chapped, blood-covered lips, and he sighed, nodding to the men leaning against the wall, silently watching us. “She needs water, more blood, and that fucker’s head. In that order, gentlemen.”

  “I’ll grab water,” Phenrys announced, pushing off the wall.

  “I’ll get more blood,” Bowen snorted, following him out of the room.

  “I’ll help Ezekiel convince Cole Van Helsing that we need his assistance to go hunting. Lucas couldn’t have made it too far off this mountain,” Sian stated, nodding toward Ezekiel, who continued staring at me.

  “You’re in agony, yet you don’t make a sound. You are either very good at hiding the pain, or you’ve had lots of time to master it, little girl. How much pain have you known in your lifetime to hide that emotion from your pretty eyes?” Enzo asked, creeping closer, inhaling the air as he moved toward me. “You intrigue me.”

  Worry shone in Xari’s eyes before she turned her gaze on me. I was guessing it wasn’t a good thing to intrigue a demon. Not that I’d met many of them before, but this one was sex incarnate and leaked lethal vibes from his pores. The other one studied us, his smile lopsided as he slid his gaze over my face, then moved it back to his brother.

  “Curiously, she shows no sign of her pain, but her agony hangs in the surrounding air. Her aura is—blue, yet shrouded in darkness.”

  Leif’s snort filled the hallway. “She’s Brenna Haralson’s daughter. Fenrir wolves mask pain, hiding it from their enemies. They’re masters at it and believe that they control their emotions and their fate by doing so. I’d bet my eternal soul that Braelyn’s mother showed her how to hide it all. Every emotion she feels is muted, such as fear, pain, and love. Isn’t that so, Braelyn?” he asked, leaning into the room to hold my stare.

  “Emotions are weapons that can be wielded against you. To allow someone to taste fear is power. To allow them to know your pain is an addiction. Love is a weakness that can destroy you. They’re only emotions, and we control them because only we can decide what we feel. My enemies will never see me falter or know that they have given me pain. I have no weakness that can be used against me. Not anymore,” I stated, sliding my attention to Saint. “You took it away, and now you have nothing to wield against me. I should probably thank you for that, shouldn’t I?”

  “And what did I take away from you?”

  “My pack, and the only vow I ever pledged to keep. Before my father beat her to death, I promised my mother that I would always put the pack first and protect them. Now they don’t respect me, and they’re no longer my pack. They’re yours.”

  “What the fuck does that mean, Braelyn?” he demanded.

  “It means I am free of my promise,” I whispered, licking my lips that continued to crack and bleed from speaking. “No matter what happened or what cost I had to pay to ensure their safety, I paid it without hesitation. But now I am free.”

  “What she means is, she can leave here free from her obligations to the pack. There’s nothing here for her anymore,” Leif grunted, shaking his head. “You took away her purpose, and when a wolf is free of her commitments to her pack, she is no longer burdened by them. Isn’t that right, little wolf?”

  “Exactly right, Leif,” I stated, exhaling the pain from my lungs as the weight lifted from my chest. “I am no longer a part of your pack, Saint.” I smiled, feeling the burden of holding the pack together, releasing me. “I’m free.”

  “You’re my mate, Braelyn,” he pointed out.

  “That doesn’t mean I give one fuck of an iota about belonging to you anymore. You bit me, and that only means you own my womb. You own nothing else within me. I rejected you to free you from what my father threatened to do to you if I didn’t. I tried to protect you, and you returned to destroy me. We’re not even on the same level. You want to hurt me, and I wanted to save you from my demons. My only mistake was in thinking my bastard
father would uphold his end of the deal, allowing you and your friends to walk away from this place.”

  “Think we should have mentioned the dragon grass makes the user rather—blunt?” Ezekiel asked, turning to look at Enzo, who snorted.

  “I’m enjoying it. She’s rather savage, and how often do you see Saint sweating balls?” Leif snorted, causing the others to turn in his direction. “Fuck off! He’s been an insufferable prick ever since he announced we were returning here. I intend to enjoy that look of fear in his eyes a moment longer.”

  I carefully turned onto my side, peering up at Saint, who glared down at me. A soft gasp escaped my lips, barely discernable to even my ear. My lashes fluttered, hearing him snort.

  “You even try to escape me, and I will chain your pretty ass to this bed, Brat.”

  “And do what? Fuck me stupid? I was stupid the moment I rejected you, and every day since I spent watching the horizon, praying to the gods that you would come back to me. How’s that shit working out for me? I’d have been better off praying that someone missed a chunk of wood and removed my head with their ax. It would have been kinder. And I told you never to call me that again. I’m not your Brat anymore. I’m your unwanted mate, and you’re mine.”

  “See, savage little thing,” Leif snorted, his deep chuckle filling the room as my eyes grew heavy and sleep settled over me.

  I felt Saint’s finger tracing my cheek, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It felt as if someone had glued them closed.

  “Get the bag prepped for an IV. She’s out.” Saint’s breath fanned my face as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I want that asshole found and hung up in the courtyard to send a warning to any of Harold’s people we’ve missed. I want those sick bastards to know exactly what happens when you touch my girl.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It took days to fully heal from my injuries, even with copious amounts of vampire blood that had been fed to me intravenously. During that time, Saint had hovered. He’d been inside the room with me, trying to force conversation, which I’d ignored for the most part. There was a certain freedom in knowing someone else was taking care of the pack and that it wasn’t up to me to oversee it all anymore.

 

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