Chapter 5 The Heat Between us

Alora's POV

Since my sudden departure from the orphanage where I grew up, I had encountered some vile and despicable men who did not have the right to live with humans in society, and I was tired of them treating me like trash simply because I was a poor orphan.

I was tired of being treated like I was some piece of meat they needed to devour, or own.

I was not the strongest, nor could I compare myself with those men who had tried owning a piece of me, but I was proud to say that none of them ever succeeded in their perverted acts, none of them had ever managed to break me. I was at my breaking point with these uncultured men and I would never stop fighting them, because I was tired of being hunted, tired of being a doormat, and tired of being treated like trash.

Maybe that was why I overreacted, and went off on Mr. Bulky Ponytail the way I did.

But somehow, I knew in my guts that he hadn't meant to throw me into the wall as I blinked back to awareness.

When I looked in his direction, he wasn't advancing or gloating. He stood frozen, torn between checking on me, and helping his friend, who was curled up in himself, clutching his head like it was about to explode.

I hadn't even touched that one.

Mr. Bulky Ponytail rushed to me and knelt at my side, panic stamped across his face like he was the one in pain. His eyes roamed over me like he was searching for damage, guilt twisting his features.

"Shut the hell up," he growled suddenly, not at me, but to himself, gripping his head in agony.

"Harry, please call the doctor" he called out to his friend.

With a frustrated sigh, he looked at me again. I lifted my head up to meet his gaze. I gulped, unable to control the way my body reacted to him. This man was too hot to be a kidnapper. His black hair was tied in a man bun, with a few strands framing his face.

My heart pounded fiercely in my chest, and the ache in my body dulled as his big hands gently turned me over. His touch was careful, almost reverent.

And then, he picked me up from the floor and cradled me to his chest, his heart beating loud and fast, matching the same rhythm as mine for some strange reason.

I tried to move away from him, realizing how intensely aware I was of him, but his grip tightened around me.

Then he did something that sent a chill rippling through me. He leaned in, his nose brushing the hollow of my neck.

Right there.

The same spot the man from my dreams loved to nuzzle.

My pulse shot up. "Get your hands off me!" I snapped, trying to pull away again. But he didn't budge.

Fear surged through me in waves, so much that I found it a little hard to breathe.

No. I wouldn't let this happen again... I couldn't.

I started to struggle, thrashing against his hold, and pain bloomed at the back of my head where I'd hit the wall, but it felt like the more I struggled to break free, the more his grip tightened on me.

"Aah!" I cried, clutching the throbbing spot.

That did it. As soon as I did that, he loosened his grip on me.

"F**k. I'm so sorry," he gasped, eyes wide, like he hadn't even realized what he was doing. Like he wasn't entirely in control.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I began to cry. I cried so much that I shook in his arms. Anger, frustration, helplessness, and maybe even relief poured out of me all at once.

Then the door opened.

Harry returned with a doctor in tow. The moment Mr. Bulky Ponytail saw them, he bolted from my side like demons were snapping at his heels.

Once he was gone, I turned over and spotted Harry setting a tray of food down on a table. He caught my eye and gave me a small, shy smile before stepping back, so the doctor could start checking me over.

That's when I noticed Harry's phone on the bed, screen facing down. I slipped it under the blanket and tucked it close, hiding it before anyone noticed.

I needed to get out of here and that was my one-way ticket.

Morgan's POV

I bolted out the door, mind-linking Harry to take care of her and made sure she ate something, but I didn't leave.

I watched from the window, where no one could see, as Harry knelt on the bed and turned her over.

When she saw it was not me, she sat up and held her head in her hands. By that time, all I could feel was a dull ache in my head.

Instinctively, I held my head in my hands, mirroring her own. Something was going on between us.

Why did I feel her pain, and how had she woken up from her consciousness so fast?

She was a werewolf, but why didn't she feel our bond? Or was she pretending?

I stood there and watched as the pack doctor, Dr Remus, checked her vitals and nodded to Harry that everything was okay.

Harry in turn mind-linked to explain to me that the doctor said she was hale and hearty and didn't have any signs of concussion or distress.

I frowned. "That's not possible," I replied to Harry in my head.

We had both watched her hit her head on the wall before losing consciousness. Harry just ignored me and continued helping her.

Who was this she-wolf, and why did I feel so connected to her?

I watched as Harry placed the tray of food in front of her, grabbed the spoon, and held it out to her.

She hesitated for a second before taking it from him.

She pointed to the water and Harry immediately opened it for her, and she took a big gulp before handing it over to Harry.

Then she immediately delved into the big plate of barbecue chicken in front of her.

I watched with fascination as she began to eat with so much fervor.

She was literally gulping down the food while Harry sat beside her and watched her as if he was entranced with her.

Then Ragnar stirred, and his gaze was helplessly drawn to her carnal mouth as she chewed.

She grabbed the largest piece of the barbecue chicken and tore into it like she had not eaten in days.

Then she sucked the sauce from her thumb before reaching for another rib. She licked her lips, then her fingers.

Another weird image flashed through my mind.

Images of those lips around my member made my wolf growl inside my head.

I could feel my entire body clench as she sucked on the dribbles of the sauce from the tips of her fingers. What made the whole thing even more of a turn-on was that she clearly had no idea she was being watched by every male in the room.

She was innocently and unknowingly provocative.

Dear moon goddess, what have you done to me?