“No,” I manage to say, but apparently not loud enough.
“What?” He barks, shoving the letter opener harder to my neck.
“No, alpha.”
There’s a beat where Tallen stares at me, and his gaze drops to my neck, like he’s trying to decide whether to just kill me or not. “Good girl.” He pulls back, releasing my hand and removing his fingers from between my legs.
I quickly drop the letter opener, then pull my shirt down. I snap my legs shut, trying to shield myself from another attack.
“I expect you to act right for the rest of the evening,” Tallen purrs like he’s simply teaching me a lesson. “Help your mother make dinner. Laugh at your father’s shitty jokes.” He leans and plants a single, possessive kiss on my lips. I flinch, skin crawling. “I do love apple pie,” he smirks, then turns, striding toward the door.
I want to collapse and curl into myself, sob and scream for hours on end, but I have to know one thing before heleaves. “Tallen?” I manage to choke out a single question: “Do youreallyhave a pack?”
He pauses, fingers resting on the doorknob.
I wait, chest tight.
He smirks, all but confirming my suspicion. “I don’tneeda fucking pack.” His tone is full of disdain. “All I need are a few desperate betas, willing to dump their daughter on the first alpha who crosses their path.” Then he slowly lifts the fingers he used to violate me. They’re slightly wet. He sniffs them and his eyes close like they smell like heaven. My stomach churns and I curl inward, even tighter. “I cannot wait to break you in.” He licks his fingers, lapping at them with a lewd, wet hum. “So fucking good.” His dark eyes drill into mine, hard and possessive. “I expect you downstairs in two minutes.”
Then he turns and he’s gone.
The sound of the door slamming shut echoes around me, suffocating.
Panicked, I run to the bathroom and throw myself against the sink. I gag, stomach heaving so hard I’m sure I’ll lose whatever’s left of my lunch. Spit rolls from my throat and I choke, but nothing comes out. Once I’m sure I’m not going to get sick, I wash my face under cold water.
Between my legs hurts and my head throbs from crying.
But I only have two minutes to collect myself, because I truly believe he’ll come back if I take a second longer.
I open the medicine cabinet. Too much adrenaline makes my hands shake as I search for anything to calm me—something to stop the black pit growing deep inside. I pick up a few bottles, checking labels, then putting them back.
Cough suppressant, painkillers, scent blocker. I keep putting them back until I grab an old bottle of heat suppressants,dusty and forgotten. I skim the label, wondering if there are any sedatives in them.
The label reads“Do Not Use if Expired”in bold. I flip the bottle. The expiration date is over a year ago. A memory flashes from chemistry class—expired compounds in heat suppressants break down into toxic agents. They become unstable, leading to all kinds of health issues, including arrhythmia…
And maybe with enough of them, it can cause a heart attack.
A horrific thought creeps into my mind as I consider downing the whole bottle. But that would kill my parents, and my friends. And not to mention the fact that I simply don’t want to die.
If anything, I want Tallen to die….and just like that, a whole new thought consumes me.
Curious, I shake the bottle quietly. It sounds full, maybe missing one or two pills, but that’s it. My mind races. Enough of thiscouldstop a heart. And itshouldbe a quiet death, presenting like standard cardiac arrest.
And it would be too easy to put it in his fucking pie.
I shake my head.
What am I thinking?
I can’t do this.
Disgusted with myself, I toss the bottle into the sink with a clatter. My eyes lift to the mirror. My reflection stares back—blotchy, red-faced, streaked with tears and snot. And my neck…
I tilt my chin up, horrified as I take in the bruise already blooming across my throat. Ugly, dark, and fast-spreading. It throbs when I breathe. If that letter opener had even the slightest edge, I wouldn’t be standing here. I’d be dead, bleeding out on the floor of my childhood home.
My hand trembles as it moves, curling again around the bottle I’d just tossed away. Cold plastic. Rattling pills. A whole bottle full of escape.
No.Tallen doesn’t get another chance to put his hands on me. Not ever again.
