The Possessive Alpha
Chapter 97

ELLE POV

Tiberius’ putrid breath fans my face and neck as he whispers in my ear, “why do you smell like that mutt still?” He questions aloud, the annoyance clear in his voice as his words get icier with each breath.

“I don’t know,” I reply, keeping my body stiff and my face turned away from his as I sit in his lap, getting his scent all over me. I wonder how many showers it’ll take to get this disgusting scent off me.

“Don’t lie to me, pet,” he grips my face forcing me to turn and look into his eyes. Without effort, my dead eyes meet his so that he can check for signs that I am lying. Putting a finger against the pulse on my neck, his gravelly voice invades my eardrums, “why do you smell like that mutt?”

“I don’t know,” I say again, not changing my voice’s tone, volume, or urgency. Nothing in my heartbeat or breathing changed, infuriating him even more. Before I can brace myself, his hands push me roughly from his lap and onto the hard wooden floor with a thunk. In a flash, Tiberius is out of the seat and kneeling in front of me as his large calloused hand grips my throat squeezing with a vice grip, quickly diminishing the oxygen in my lungs.

“You did something!” He growls, pulling me closer, “tell me what you did so I can fix it.” His grip constricts tighter, my face turning blue, but I don’t pull at his hands or protest, keeping my death stare firmly placed on him. After another ten seconds of lacking air, he finally realizes I cannot speak when his hand is around my neck. Releasing me, my hands fly to my neck while I cough and sputter, trying to get all the oxygen I have been sorely lacking.

“I don’t have a mark,” I choke out through the coughs and heaving breaths, “I don’t know why I still smell like Damon.” Hearing Damon’s name sets Tiberius off like a bomb as he stands quickly, gripping my hair in his hand and using it to drag me across the room. Charity is still stuck in the Beta heir’s lap, but her desire to leap for the table and help is tangible.

Lifting me to my feet, Tiberius tilts my neck to the right, exposing the left side of my neck where my mate’s mark should be; his fingers trail my neck lightly as his eyes turn black with l**t. “Tsk tsk, pet. I was really trying to be a better man for you,” Tiberius sighs, his mood changing quicker than the weather, “give you a few days to break in before marking you.”

I say nothing, staring at him, his jaw twitching at my continued silence. As I had suspected, this man needs constant validation, and not responding is driving him nuts. I know I am playing with fire, but men always reveal more than they intend to when in an emotional state.

Elongating his canines, he yanks my neck closer to his face, and for the first time since being in his custody, my response is visceral and determined as I push against his large frame. My voice came out in strangled cries as I put up a fight.

Growing tired of this fight, Tiberius gripped the chain connecting my cuffs; my hair balled in the other as he pulled, putting my head in an awkward position and making it more difficult than before to fight against him. Running his nose along my neck, he inhales deeply, growling when he can still smell the subtle notes of Damon’s signature scent.

In a single breath, Tiberius canines are pressed against my neck, applying pressure while tears stream freely down my cheeks; in the corner, Charity is fighting against Zachary, trying her hardest to get to me. The villain holding me in his vice grip is applying more pressure, but I still haven’t felt the slice of them breaking through the barrier of my tender flesh.

“Why isn’t it working?” Tiberius growls, pulling closer, pushing his teeth into my skin, the intensity increasing, but I remain unmarked. Relief floods through my body like a speeding train calming my nerves and undoing the knots in my stomach. “YOU b***h!! ANSWER ME!”

“I don’t know,” I answer, through the sobs still running down my cheek. “I DON’T f*****g KNOW!!”

Not liking my answer, his fist connects with my face in a fury, landing repeated blows. The silver wrapped around my wrists has kept me weaker, my face crunching as different bones break easier than normal. B***d mixes with the tears coating my cheeks as both my lips and eye split open.

Tiberius doesn’t stop his rage fulling him further as his eyes shift, a reddish hue in the irises I had never noticed before, a sign that his wolf is slowly turning more feral, having reached the point of no return. Damon’s blue eyes pop into my mind hoping to replace the ones belonging to the man in front of me as the world slowly falls away into peaceful nothingness.

******************************

Consciousness starts to stir in the pit of my mind, the hard floor making my head pound at an unbearable tempo as I slowly start lifting the eyelid that isn’t swollen shut. The room is dark, with a figure sitting in my peripheral vision, the heat of the gaze intense.

“Oh, thank the Goddess,” Charity exhales in relief, “you had me worried to death. That bastard refused to call for a doctor. At least he allowed Doreen and I to sit with you.”

“I am sorry, Luna,” Doreen says with a shaky breath, “but I need to let a guard know you are awake now so that you can be moved into the cells.”

“It’s okay, Doreen,” I croak through my dry mouth, wincing as I move my freshly scabbed l*p, “I understand.” I know that refusing will not result in only my punishment but hers. Looking at Charity, scanning her body for any injuries sighing in relief when I find a few bruises and scrapes but nothing serious. Taking a hard stare at her neck, I don’t find a mark, providing me comfort that she wasn’t affected.

“Are you okay, Char?” I ask because while she might not be physically harmed, I don’t know how long I have been passed out in a heap on the floor. “Did that Beta try anything?”

“He tried,” she confirms, a shiver running through her body, and I don’t blame her, the thought making me cringe, “but right now, we need to get you up. The guard is already on his way to escort you,” Standing up, Doreen and Charity bend over, placing their hands underneath my arms and helping me sit up.

Wincing at the tightness in my stomach, a dead giveaway, I was kicked at some point after the blackout. Finally, on my feet, despite the feeling like the floor is falling out from under them, a warrior walks into the room with his head bowed. Refusing to look at Charity or me.

The man cannot be older than thirty, a mate mark sitting on his neck, his scent having sulfuric undertones to notify others of his rogue status. A subtle glance at Doreen tells me this man is a friend rather than a foe. His hands wrap roughly around my arm, pushing me onwards towards the door and into the hall, where another man waits to help escort us. Doreen and Charity are following behind with the other guard as we walk silently through the house until we reach the same door Theo had been pushed through earlier.

Doreen is forced to part ways at the top of the steps as Charity and I walk down to a room filled with translucent cells. I don’t know how big the room but it seems to go on forever. The further we venture inside, the more disturbed I feel at the sight I see in front of me. Each cell is filled to the brim with pack members and rogues. Every single one with a mark proudly displayed on their neck.

The faces of the men and women staring at me are sunken, hollow, and malnourished. Many with large circles under their eyes and their hair thinning. The rogues trapped inside looked at me with unabashed curiosity. However, those from this pack gaze upon me with confusion, shock, and then utter glee as they realize who I am.

At the end of the row, the guard opens a door on the right-hand side, shoving us inside the small room. There is no privacy in the cell as clear walls separate each space. Theo stands at the window next to us, his eyes scanning over our bodies at the injuries sighing in relief when he doesn’t find any.

A figure at the corner of my vision captures my attention until I find myself staring into hair with the same fiery hue and a green eye that is a carbon copy of mine. Even though the woman’s face is severely bruised and swollen, the similarities between our facial features in undeniable.

An invisible tether tying us together, tugging at something deep inside, a primal instinct taking over my mouth, “mom?” I don’t need to question how I know, I just do. Werewolves have the uncanny ability to recognize their own b***d, people from their pack even if they don’t understand why.

A moment of joy breaks over the face of a woman I barely know but before I can blink it darkens like a summer storm. Her one eye staring at my neck as she starts banging on the wall, screaming madly becoming more unhinged by the second.

Her hands smacking the wall as her fury increases, thank the goddess I can’t hear what she is saying but based on Theo’s face I can only imagine the criticism laced through her words. His stance guarded but deadly as he glares with condemnation clearly upset with his old Luna, though I suspect his loyalty to her is long dead by now.

“I know she is your mother,” Charity says, watching the scene perturbed at my mother’s reaction, “but can this b***h shut up.”

Despite my best efforts to resist a smile one creeps across my face anyways. The same thought crossing my mind, while I may feel an instinctive pull to her I don’t know her. Staring at her doesn’t evoke a single emotion other than slight revulsion. Meeting Theo’s comforting hazel eyes I give him a nod that doesn’t need verbalization to be understood.

Within seconds Theo has her neck in the crook of his elbow in a choke hold, slowly applying pressure until her body finally silences from the lack of oxygen. A look of satisfaction crossing his face as she falls to the floor.

“She seems like a delight,” Charity comments dryly choosing to sit on the opposite wall, while I sit with my back towards Theo not wanting to look at the stranger.

“Must be a real joy at the Solstice parties,” I retort, matching her sarcasm as we both cackle like the Macbeth witches. Nothing like being at deaths door and still able to laugh at least I have that and the uncanny ability to avoid the mate mark. Hopefully, it’s similar to a cats whole nine lives situation, or would that be asking too much?

“So what’s going on with you and Matt?” I blurt out, in the silence finding no other topic worth talking about right now. Plus with the two different cameras mounted in the room I couldn’t risk discussing anything else.

Without a way to cut out the noise it isn’t worth the risk. We can’t trust that the person watching the monitors. “Really?” She asks, instantly becoming annoyed with the question like she always does when he is mentioned or nearby. “That’s what you want to talk about right now?”

“Well,” I say, looking around at the cage we are trapped in, “what else are we going to do in this place? So spill. Theo and his running commentary isn’t here.”

“Elle,” she says in warning, “I really don’t want to talk about Matt right now. Any other topic, please?” She begs, keeping in tradition to avoid him at all costs.

“Fine,” I say in defeat, “then what’s really going on with Hunter? And you can’t get out talking about this one, Gamma. I already gave you one freebie.”

Sighing she, looks at the door, fighting with herself trying to decide on what to share, “we broke up.”

Not that I am surprised, Hunter has seemed genuinely disintered in her since I joined the group, and according to the others it wasn’t a new phenomenon. Rather a problem that had been there since the beginning. “When?” I ask puzzled that she hadn’t said anything about it, “when did this happen?”

“Our first shift,” she says, a shame rolling off her so intense that it practically hits me in the face.

“Why” I ask, resting my head against the wall, recalling that night and the way Matt craddled her in his arms. “Did Matt have something to do with it?” I ask, which might explain why she has been more radioactive than Marie Curie whenever Matt is mentioned.

“Elle,” she is begging twisting her fingers in her hands, panic coating her words, “I beg you, please drop it.””Answer the question and consider the topic off-limits,” I reply, my voice serious as I make the promise.

“Yes!” She shouts, an aggravated growl escaping her chest, “Matt’s the reason. Are you happy now?”

“I am,” I reply, a smile of triumph crossing my face, as my eyes twinkle with triumph, “now get some rest. I am sure we will need all the strength we can muster the next few days.” Without responding she closes her eyes and leans her head against the hard wall. Mimimicing her I let my eye droop close as the exhaustion slowly lures me into dreams of Damon.