Claimed By The Rogue Alpha King

"What are you saying, Rose?"

Rose hid her eyes from the woman across her and replied, "My husband... He has not touched me since we got married."

"Oh Lord, have mercy," Deborah exclaimed. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" Rose tried to hide the sneer on her face, but she could not. "Deborah, what sort of question is that? Last week, we had a class on sex, and I made sure I took notes. Based on the teachings, I AM very sure that my husband has not had sex with me."

"B-But..." Deborah confusedly glanced at the ceiling as though the answer to Rose's predicaments were written there. "You have been married for almost... five years."

"I got married at the age of twenty-five, Debbie. " Rose leaned forward, the devastation and desperation in her soul written all over her. "I am still a virgin at thirty, thanks to my husband."

"But why?" Deborah frowned. "You are attractive. You don't have a terrible personality. You look like you would not be shy in bed, either."

"I am just tired of keeping quiet about this. I used to fear being made fun of if I spoke my mind, but not anymore. I am tired of begging my husband to touch me."

"He does not touch you?! Like, not even holding your hand?"

"Have you ever seen us hold hands in public? Deborah, he does not bother to pretend to care about me. I am a stranger in and out of that house, Deborah. I am nothing but a stranger carrying Richard's last name."

"God have mercy. What do we do now, Sister Rose?"

"That is what I want you to help with! I need your help. I need the church to help me." Rose could not bear to be patient anymore. She could tell that Deborah was trying to be careful with her response, but that would not solve her problem. "If you have to involve the head pastor, please do. I am tired of waiting for a man that does not want me. I have tried to divorce him so many times, but the divorce files are piled up on our dining table. He uses them to taunt me, just as his confusing distance does. That is how bad it is." Rose reached for the woman's hand, her soul wrenching at the contact; that was how much she desired human warmth. "I need Richard to let me go. Please, help me. I am fed up."

"Hmm." Deborah nodded, her middle-agedness briefly revealing itself as she frowned. "All options will be explored. Don't worry, Rose, I will speak to Pastor West, I believe the church will look into this matter and help you out as much as we can. God will take control."

While resisting the push to fill her eyes with tears, Rose bit her lip and nodded, "Thank you."

"Thank you for coming to me, Sister Rose."

Rose left the room as fast as she could.

She never planned to approach the church to solve her problems, after all, she had only recently joined them when she noticed that her husband went to church on Sundays. But, attending church was another failed attempt to get closer to Richard Walms. As usual, he did not pay attention to her even when she forcibly found a way to enter his car before he left for church. The car rides were always filled with small talk; only she did the talking like a fool.

Such car rides were a perfect example of what living with Richard was like. No matter how much she examined the silent treatment, Rose could not find a fault or a reason. During their dating era, Richard was always all over her. He showed her how much he loved her through words and actions. They went on dates and had fun without including physical intimacy because he respected her desire to get married as a virgin. Their relationship was blissful and fantastic.

But things changed when she entered his house as his wife. He went from doting on her to neglecting her, acting like she was invisible. He refused to speak to her, did not eat the meals she prepared, and did not do as much as hug her. The few times he looked at her, she failed to find the affection he once held for her in his eyes.

At first, Rose thought it was a prank. Then, it became too serious to ignore. However, no matter how much she tried to make sense of the situation and how she begged him to look at her, things worsened. Weeks of maddening solitude turned into months of confusion and silence, which turned into years of living with mixed feelings about her situation.

"Hey! Watch where you are going, you fucking idiot!" That was followed by a vicious honk, which made Rose fling her body backwards before the car could rush into her.

Thankful to God that she did not meet her end there, Rose quickly found a bench and sat down. As she sat, she noticed some eyes were pitifully fixed on her.

"Hmm," she released a low groan, distracting her heart from beating fast with anxiety. On days like this, she suspected a stranger or two could tell how much of a burden she was carrying.

"That was close, wasn't it?" a chilling voice beside her commented, nearly giving her a jump scare.

"Wh-who are you?" While it was clear the person was a man, she could not see his face, which concerned her. That morning, she had read about a lunatic who lured troubled women from bus stops to his abandoned warehouse under the guise of helping them. "What do you want?"

"You."

"Huh?" Rose was sure she did not hear wrong. "Me? You are a creep, aren't you?" Her viciousness instantly came out. "If you think you can drag me to a shady place to kill me, think again. I will make a show of you if you do not leave my side, you fucking prick. Oh fuck." Rose recalled the pastor's teaching about swearing. "Shit."

"How amusing," the man maintained his mysteriousness. "Even at this distance, you make me very curious."

"Mister Man." She gripped the neck of his hoodie. "Are you trying to play an expensive joke?" With a firm tug, she tried to yank the covering off his face. "Who exactly are you? Show me that ugly face of yours and-"

His hand rested on hers, and the unsettlement in her soul felt little peace as if the sun had risen to chase away a stormy day. Confused, her grip loosened, and her eyes wandered to the hand covering hers. The hand was nothing like her husband's. It was bigger, had aesthetic veins, and, most importantly, was not just touching her but making contact with her soul.

Rose could not neglect the change hovering over each inch of her body. It forced her to focus on the strange man who had not provided his name.

The man's hoodie came off, and time stopped for Rose.

His features transported her to a new world. His eyes, especially-a mix of purple and silver-made her stare deeply as if treasures were hidden inside them.

"I see you, Rose. And I want you," his velvety and firm voice confessed again. This time, she could not argue. The peace she felt from just looking at him was overwhelmingly great, she did not want to escape from it.

With his short hair dancing with the wind, the man gathered the strays in her hair with his other hand and said, "Soon, we will be together; nothing in between us in all of the realms of this world."

"Oh," Rose replied as if she had already accepted that the man was no longer a stranger but a hero sent to help her escape her troubles. "What is-" Her phone rang, and the thrilling moment ended. Unable to ignore the call since most of her calls were business-related, she distanced herself from the strange man and stood up to receive the call.

A look at the screen revealed the love emojis she had saved her husband's number with. Her heart started thudding, and for a few seconds, her hands shivered. She almost let the phone ring. But she picked up the call, brought the phone to her ear, and, after a couple of deep breaths, said, "Hello. Richie?"

"Come home. Now."

The end tone beeped, and it felt like something had been ripped from her chest. Richard's voice was not pleasant; it reeked of something terrible. Her hands trembling in fear of what could happen, Rose turned to the unfamiliar man, desperate to heal her fear. But he was no longer there. He was gone as if he had never been there.

"Maybe... Maybe I was d-dreaming," she said while pushing her hair back. "I... I should go home. Richard is waiting." She looked around again, something inside her wishing that someone would hold her back. Nothing of that sort happened. "Yeah. Yeah, I should go home."

[break]

Rune wondered if he had left too soon. He had finally caught a closer view of her gorgeous yet sullen face, but it wasn't enough to quench the desire building in his soul. Neither were the many questions he had answered. Indeed, it would not hurt to follow her for a few more minutes, Symon's show would have to wait.

"Alpha Rune!"

"Damn it!" Rune almost punched the man as he turned. Symon surely knew when to ruin things for him.

"You are not trying to escape, right?" Rune laughed as if his life depended on it. "I can't believe you keep doing this. Today's the last day, you can't make more excuses. You promised to do this, Alpha Rune."

Symon had a point. It would be disloyal not to attend his show. After all, Beta Symon forfeited a great life and came to the human world with him; going to his show was one way to show him appreciation.

"I am sorry I haven't been around," Rune muttered, his apology almost choking him.

"You are?" Symon inched closer, curiosity in his eyes. "What have you been up to? You went from sitting at home like a bag of beans to jumping all over town. Also," his eyes drilled harder, "why are you dressed like a creep?"

Rune huffed and began walking. "One more question and you will lose your tongue." As he moved, he stopped himself from glancing back at the path the woman took while his wolf whined about his decision to go to Symon's show.

Whether talking to Richard would be beneficial or detrimental, Rose wanted evidence of their meeting, so she turned on the voice recorder on her phone and walked in after safely tucking the device in her bag. She met him standing over the piles of divorce papers he refused to touch, the sight of his back reminding her of their simpler, happier moments.

"Are you that excited?" he asked, his voice low and somewhat dangerous.

"A-about what?" She should be glad to finally hear his voice, but that happiness could not surface. Instead, her head warned her, telling her to maintain a distance.

He turned, without a doubt, he was angry. "Do you think reporting me to the Pastors has earned you this moment?" Rose's eyes squinted. She did not expect a swift intervention. "Are you that eager to hear my voice? Can't you be a little patient?"

"Richard?" She frowned. "A little patient? You expect me to be patient in this situation?"

"What situation? Do we have a situation?" He crossed his arms, his refusal to act concerned about her predicaments causing heavy cuts in her heart. "Oh." He laughed. "Because I have not spoken to you in a while?"

"In a while?" She could have laughed, but was there anything funny? "Richard, for years... for so many freaking months, you and I have been under the same roof... Yet! Yet... this is the first time you'll speak to me since we became husband and wife.

Richard, I don't remember the last time our eyes connected. I don't remember what your touch is like. How could you?" Rose felt weaker with each statement, she wished to faint and wake up to realise that the last five years were nothing but scary dreams. But she did not want to collapse in front of him. She needed him to see how much he hurt her. "Why... How could you laugh as if you haven't made my heart bleed? How could-?"

"Oh, please. Shut the fuck up." He dragged a nearby dining chair and sat on it. "I did you a favour by putting a ring on your finger. I have housed and fed you for years. You should not complain about my decision to distance myself from you."

"Richard!"

"Rose!" The chair flew back, and the papers on the table flew into her face. "You should have not gone to the church." He glared. "I ignored these silly pleas to get divorced. I looked away and trusted that you would gain some sense and adapt to the situation. Your senses rotted instead of growing. You made a mistake by going to those people to tell them that I haven't touched you."

"Is that a lie?" she retorted. "You have made a fool of me."

"No! You made a fool of me!" He rushed to grab the back of her hair, his angry breath causing her fear to grow. "I am your fucking husband! I can decide to touch you when I feel like it."

"You did not feel like it for five years?" Despite her fright, Rose chose to fight for herself. "I don't believe that. You are lying. Ah!"

He yanked her hair, pain filled her soul, and she became desperate to find a way to escape his deadly touch.

"Are you the only fucking bitch in this world? I can fuck whoever I want, Rosie." That nickname sounded sour, unlike the last time she heard it. "And I fucked whoever I wanted. But, sorry. I have never wanted to fuck you." He taunted her. "You are just too filthy and self-absorbed to fuck."

"Why did you marry me?!" She pushed him with all her might, and he crashed onto the floor. "I am not your toy!" Her legs hurried to the door for easy escape if needed. "I am not yours to own! I did not force you to marry me, Richard!"

With a vicious grin, he got off the floor. "Is that why you told those people that we have not had sex? Were you that desperate to fuck, Rose?"

"Fuck you, Richard."

"Why did you hide the rest from them? You should have told them that I did not speak to you for years in addition to not screwing you. Were you scared they would blame you for that?"

"Richard..." She sighed to calm the rousing storm within her and quietly asked, "Is there a reason you called me here?"

"Yes." He moved closer, intensified his overpowering presence and forced her away from the entrance, his hand slamming the door shut while he tossed her to the ground he just got up from. "Stay down."

Rose clutched her bag. If he discovered that she was documenting their conversation, the situation could worsen, and unspeakable things might happen to her. After all, she was now seeing a side of Richard that he had hidden well for years. He surely looked like a monster lurking in the shadows, waiting to feast on the essence of her soul.

"Right." He squatted in front of her. "You have always been my good girl. Don't make me regret choosing you." With manufactured affection, he wiped off the sweat building on her forehead. "My dear Rosie." Her eyes fought to remain open, she could not dare close them for fear that he would slash her once she did. "Answer me!"

Her body and soul jumped. "Y-yes?"

His anger became a soft smile, and his knuckles traced the acne scars on her cheeks, the very ones he once confessed made her uniquely beautiful.

"My Rosie, I understand that you might be frustrated, but as I said," he said, bringing his face closer to hers, "you have to be patient. Ask me what I mean."

Scared that he would torture her with his voice, she whispered while fighting back tears, "What do you mean?"

"I will never divorce you, Rose." His hand captured a fistful of her hair again, and the earlier pain returned. "If you like, walk into the top broadcasting company in this world with a megaphone and placards about your terrible husband, I will never leave you. Rose," he pushed her closer, a wince almost leaving her, "the only way you can nearly escape is death. When you die, I will keep your body next to me and deny you rest."

"Richard..." She could not hold back her emotions anymore. Her tears came out, the earlier wince turned into a groan. "What have I done to deserve this? I have not done anything to you, Richard."

"True." He smiled, and it became clear to Rose. "You have not done anything to me." Her husband was psychotic. "But, I will do things to you that will make you regret complaining about my silence." Everything was a play to him. From their first meeting to their fun moments, down to their married life... everything was a game he plotted. "Rose..." That realisation made her crash; it was only long before she would fall deeper into despair. "Look at me, my Rosie." She could not. "Look at me!" He almost snapped her head, and for a second, she wished he had accidentally killed her. Surely, dying had to be better than living like a voodoo doll with the worst destiny.

As her eyes strived to remain open, her husband showed her how sickly his smile could be, and with a boastful tone, he continued, "You cannot escape. No one will save you, either. And to ensure that is the case, I will close down your shop. As of today, you will not step out of this house until I say otherwise. The day one of your feet makes the mistake of taking you outside, I will torture it till I am satisfied."

How did her life come to that? How did she go from loving a man to being tortured by the same man? Just what has she done to her life?

A wicked bite on her lips snapped her out of her inner cries. The man dug his teeth into the flesh of her lips, he almost drew blood while he feasted on the pain he was igniting.

"Tasty as always. Maybe one of these days, I should fuck you," he jested. "You can't be too bad as a virgin."

A groan of resignation left Rose when Richard stopped trying to tear off her lips. She slumped to the ground, and a scoff of contentment came from the man who looked down at her. Rose finally closed her eyes. She knew she should be fighting back, she knew she needed to find a way to run away, but...

But...

She could not do it.

She could not move.

All she could do was cry in silence.

It was all she could do despite hating how her husband seemed to feast on her sorrow.

"Let us have fun from now on, Rosie. I-" A loud bang led to Richard falling unconscious onto the ground.

Rose sniffled and lifted her eyes, her brows jerking in surprise. Her lips showed her confusion.

"H-how are you here?" The stranger she met at the bus stop was standing before her, yet that was the question she could ask him. While waiting for a response, she recalled how his simple presence made her feel and prayed in the deepest of her souls that his presence was about to help her out of the hell she walked into.

"I heard your cry," he replied as he walked over Richard's body. "I could not ignore it."

"B-but I did not cry out. I was-"

"I heard you regardless." His eyes were a stark contrast to Richard's, but she doubted she could trust them. That thought made her shift away a little. "I want you to come with me, Rose."

Oh, what a tempting offer. But could she accept it? Rather, should she?

"Wh-why?" she asked as she watched him kneel in front of her, his eyes still showing her that his soul was warm and not willing to harm her. "Why should I?"

"You are mine. And I am yours." That simple response made her soul relax without her intending it. "We should not be apart any more, Rose." He glanced at the mess in the room. "I do not want to leave you in this filth."

Her hands were shivering, she found out when she looked down at them. With desperation, she tried to hide them, but the man in front of her was looking at all of her. He was seeing her mess, yet he was not repulsed. She could see it in his eyes that he meant his words. Thinking back to when she first met Richard, she realised what Richard's eyes carried differed from the strange man's. She could not explain it, but that was the situation, and it made her realise that she had been blind to Richard's many red flags.

With regret swimming in her soul, Rose looked up at the man again. This time, she wished to avenge the sorrow Richard caused her. She had no concrete reason to back what she aimed to do but did not hold back. With sniffles here and there, she caressed the man's jaw and slowly inched her lips to meet his. When the contact happened, unexplainable excitement filled her soul and her terrible predicament was temporarily forgotten.

Rose could have stopped the kiss the moment she realised that her husband was still next to them, but the joy inside her made her curious, and she chose to pursue the kiss till the end. So, with carefulness, she planted tiny kisses all over the man's lips, her soul hoping his inactiveness didn't mean that he hated what she was doing. Rose transferred her kisses to his forehead, nose, and neck. By the time she returned to his lips, the man's hands circled her waist, his breath ruffled the top of her lips, and he made her feel the essence of intimacy with the urgency of his kiss.

Honestly, Rose melted into that kiss. Her entire soul gave in to the man whose name she had yet to know, and she knew she would not be stopping him; that was a considerable chance to feel the connection her husband had refused to give her. She would be thinking about the repercussions after she gets satisfaction from that pleasurable moment.

"Rose," the man murmured against her lips, his hands roaming her back in search of more contact with her skin. "Rose," he repeated, the weakness in his voice making her crave more of the unknown man. "Rose." His lips made sure to make her feel loved, even when they moved to her neck, she felt great. "Rose..."

A groan from her unconscious husband brought her to reality, she pulled away from the man before more could happen.

With haste, she got up, avoided his gaze and said, "You should leave."

"Not without you." His voice remained calm, his eyes continued to relax her. "I cannot leave you with this man. He is hurting you. He will not stop hurting you."

Hearing someone mention her reality made her pained and embarrassed. She bent to take her bag, removed her phone, ended the voice recording and handed the man the device.

She looked at him when he refused to accept it and said, "He must not find out I have this. We will meet again, won't we?" Rose did not understand why she was trusting the man so much. "When I decide to see you, give me this."

"That makes no sense." His fantastical eyes darkened. "I am not asking you, Rose. You have to come with me. I will not leave you to chance, this man does not mean well."

"I don't care if you ask me to come with you. I don't know who you are. How you know my name is still a mystery. I don't know your name, yet you... yet we..." She didn't know how to say they kissed without announcing it. "Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I can tell you mean well. So, take this and meet me later. Give me a week. I will leave here in a week."

He shifted closer, his worry multiplied while brief anger flashed in his eyes. "Why? Do you want to die here?"

"I don't know. No. Of course, I don't want to die. I just have to think about things. I can't just leave. I need to process my movements before-"

"That is why I am here.," he insisted. "I will get you out of here. This man, he won't stop until he harms you."

"You think I don't know that?!" She was almost losing her mind, yet the man was making it worse. "I can't rely on anyone. I only have myself now! If I don't think or plan the escape well, I might end up in a worse situation." She looked away from him. "I know I should have walked away from this shithole a long time ago. Maybe those times I suffered because of his silence were the escape opportunities life gave me." The regret worsened, and the tears returned. "I have been foolish. I was blinded by the love I thought he had for me and the one I had for him." She quickly mopped the fallen tears with the back of her hand. "Not anymore. I won't be foolish once again. I will leave this place after I perfect everything."

"Everything? How can you perfect anything in this mess? You can't even think straight right now."

"It's not your business." Afraid that her response was too sharp, she looked at the man. "Thank you."

He was not comfortable leaving her behind, that was clear. But he chose to respect her decision, and Rose respected him for that.

He took her phone from her hand and said, "See you in a week, Rose."

She wished she could tape the way he said her name. It truly was calming and enough to wash away Richard's poison.

"Wait," she stopped him from turning, "will you tell me your name?"

"See you in a week," he repeated, his brief smile making her smile for a weak second.

"Wait." She glanced at Richard. "He will wake up, right?"

"Give it some time."

"Like three hours?"

"Is that how much time you need?" he asked, and she nodded. "You are good to go." Contrary to what he said, he walked closer to Richard and slapped the man's head. "Now, you are very good to go."

"Uh... thank you?" She was unsure how slapping his head would help solidify his unconsciousness, but then, it was a satisfying thing to see.

Without a word more, the man walked out, the swag in his steps adding to his overall allure, and Rose started to clean the mess in the room before dealing with the mess in her life.

[break]

His steps refused to rush. Rune wanted to believe that Rose would trash her one-week ultimatum and accept his help. But nothing of that sort happened.

Disappointed that he was unable to convince her to leave her hell, he considered using brute force for a second, but he cautioned himself before his body could take up the suggestion.

True, based on what he had just witnessed in Rose's life, anger boiled into fury, and he needed a way to let it out; he should have hit that bastard harder. But, for the woman who he was now sure was his mate, he would recline his emotions. He will wait for her. Then, he will go to her, refuse any refusal she puts up and make sure that henceforth, he wakes up with her next to him.

Once Rune resisted the urge to look back, he treasured the kiss they shared, increased his paces and tucked the phone Rose gave him into his pocket, after which he brought his phone out to text Symon, who was hopefully no longer as pissed as he was when he saw him leave the theatre.

[break]

With a grunt, Rose pinned her husband's back to the dining chair. Tears filled her eyes as she used all her strength to tighten the rope, glueing him to the seat. In the past, the only time she wished to tie up her husband was when she imagined the many ways their bedroom fun would progress. She always suspected that her husband had a fetish of being submissive in bed, so she prepared herself before their wedding and got some kits with the help of Hannah, the shoemaker next to her shop.

"You should have loved me right, Richard," she whispered as she glanced at the whip staring back at her from its box. Laughter from the TV reacted to her statement, so she abandoned the idea of whipping her husband to watch how blissful they were on their wedding day.

Oh, what a great day it was.

That day, Rose was not saddened by the slightest thing. Even her lack of family members could not crush the massive smile on her lips. Anyone could see that Richard was enough for her; he was all that mattered. As she focused on the smile she carried, Rose wondered if there was a way for her to go in there and tell twenty-five-year-old her to run away. But then, even if that was possible, Rose knew that past her would not listen. That was how much Richard meant to her.

Rose turned her eyes to TV Richard, whose gaze could not stop watching her. Back then, she blushed because of it. Now, she wondered if, during all that staring, he was plotting how to destroy her life.

"What next?" Rose weakly asked herself once she summoned the strength to turn off the television. "Should I close down my shop? Where do I hide once I escape?" Her plan was simple. She was going to wait till Sunday to make a move. Despite his plan to keep her locked up, Richard would have no choice but to take her along to church because he would not want people asking questions.

"Argh..." She scattered her hair. "I should have told that sexy man to meet me at the church." She could tell that the stranger would play a significant role in her escape, he would be a great protector in case Richard moves mad. "Well, I can text my phone from my laptop. I hope he sees the message."

She leaned back, her hand underneath her chin. "I only have the next one hour to close down my shop. Or should I wait till Sunday? I should drop hints as well. Hannah and Sister Debbie will report to the police if my plan does not work. Right?"

Doubt muddled her thoughts, but she quickly shook her head and got up.

"This has to work, Rose. Richard does not love you anymore. Do not get confused." After glancing at her tied-up husband, she walked past him and went to the kitchen for a water bottle. Unfortunately, when she reached half of the bottle, she started feeling funny. Her stance wobbled, she failed to find support, slumped, and slipped into the unknown world.