The Alpha's Revenge - The Alpha's Hated Mate Series

A loud pounding on the door woke me up in the middle of the night.

Squinting my eyes open, I turned on the lamp on my bedside table and glanced at the clock.

It was 2:45 in the morning.

Who could that be at this late?

The pounding increased, sending a shiver crawling down my back. My heartbeat raised, and fear gripped my soul as I got out of the bed. In cautious steps, I approached the front door and grabbed the baseball bat.

"Wh-Who's that?" I asked.

No reply came.

"If you don't speak, I'm not opening the door," I threatened.

The banging stopped suddenly, making me frown.

I waited for a few more seconds, but nothing happened.

Maybe they were bored and gone.

Putting down the bat, I let out a sigh of relief, my hand habitually going to the necklace in my neck.

What the hell? Did someone prank? Could be those idiotic neighboring teens. Perhaps avenging their lost dignity for being bullies which I revealed to their parents.

Looked like they preferred another round of lesson teaching.

Shaking my head, I turned around when a jingling sound perked my ears. Whipping around, I glanced at the door lock to see it moving.

A chilling sensation ran through my heart as my eyes widened. With shaky hands I raised the bat in my hands again and stood there.

If I died tonight, I'd make sure to go down with a fight.

The lock clicked, and my grip tightened around my weapon. Just as the door opened, I charged forward with a battle cry.

"Ella!" My father's voice stopped me in my tracks, right before the bat hit his shiny bald head.

What the...

"Papa?" I squealed, shocked. "What is this? Why were you-" I stopped mid-sentence, finally noticing the worried look on his face. His bushy brows were drawn together while his brown eyes seemed to hold the pressure of the whole universe. "Papa, what's wrong? Is everything okay?"

Putting down the bat, I rushed towards him, only for him to push past me inside. "Pack everything you need. We're leaving," he said, rushing to my room.

"What?" I blinked. I thought I didn't hear him right.

"There's no time, Elle. Bag only the things we need. We're moving right now."

"Again? At this hour?"

I couldn't believe this was happening again. All my life since I could remember, we had been running from some invisible threat that my father refused to disclose to me. No matter how hard I tried to find out, he'd try even harder to block the opportunities.

There was even one time when I eavesdropped to his and uncle Ryan's conversation, but somehow that memory disappeared from my mind like it never happened. Everytime I tried to remember, I came out blank. I couldn't remember even a word from that moment.

"No," I uttered. "I'm not moving a muscle until I know what we are running from. You have to answer me this time."

"Ella, this is not the time."

"It is, Papa! I'm tired, okay? I'm tired of running from one place to another like I got no roots."

He stopped doing what he was doing and stared at me for a second. My expression must have been concerning because he let out a sigh and walked to me. Holding my cheeks in his warm palms, he looked me in the eye.

"Okay. Ok, I'll tell you this time. But not right now. We've to hurry up, darling. Please."

The pleading look of my father and the intense fear behind it, melted my heart, and I nodded.

Rushing to my bedroom, I pulled out two bags from the drawers and handed one to him. While he bagged foods and necessary items from the kitchen, I packed my clothes and sanitary necessities. Padding to the south wall of my small bedroom, I took the photoframe of my mother and stuffed it inside as well.

Unintentionally, a tear rolled down my eyes. It's been nineteen years since she died in that treacherous night. It was the last day I slept sound like a baby. That was the last day of our lives being normal.

Everything changed since then. I saw my father breaking little by little without his beloved before my very eyes. He even picked up drinking habits, gradually developing kidney diseases.

"Are you done?" Papa hurried inside with a loaded bag and began dragging me out with him. Stopping, he grabbed our jackets and gave mine to me. "Here. Put this on. This is going to be a long cold night."

Exiting the house, the first thing that caught my eyes were the white fluffiness that landed on my coat, melting gradually. A thin blanket of whiteness covered the whole neighborhood.

I didn't even notice when it snowed. It was a rare thing in the month of May to snow in Chicago, considering it began to feel the heat of summer already.

As Papa halted the car before me, I took one last look at the house and its surroundings. The peng that set its paws on my heart since the word move out left Papa's mouth, moderately spread throughout my veins to my stomach. I suddenly felt sick.

How many more times would I have to settle into a place only to get up and leave everything behind the next moment? How many more people would I have to befriend only to forget them the next day?

I was tired, no, downright exhausted.

"Come on, Elle. Hurry up."

With a heavy sigh, I climbed into the car and let the tear drop.

When would my life ever be normal?

The next half an hour I stayed silent while papa drove through the dark forest-road, yelling at his phone from time to time. Whatever it was that kept my father at his toes all the time, it must be something terrifying, something that haunted even a grown man in his nightmares.

Even me.

I always imagined it was a monster. An ugly monster with red eyes, long, sharp teeth and two horns, that could impale your soul at its slightest glare.

But then it was merely my teenage assumption. Monsters weren't real. They only existed in books and nightmares.

Right?

"It'll be okay, my darling. I promise you."

Papa's comforting voice snatched my attention towards him. He had placed a hand over my shaking ones, sending me a look of pity and apology. The sense of helplessness behind those emotions didn't manage to escape my attention. I could see just how upset he was as well to repeat the same process again and again.

Sighing, I sent him a tiny smile of understanding through the sadness. "I trust you, Papa."

His smile resembled mine. He opened his mouth to say something when from the corner of our vision, something dark and enormous flashed right across the road.

Both our heads whipped forward, and I think I saw the color from my father's face receding.

"What was that?" I asked, my eyes widened.

"N-Nothing," he said, before accelerating the car.

"P-Papa?" I sank into my seat, clutching the fabric tight, my heartbeat raising. "Papa, slow down. What are you doing? The road is slippery."

He didn't reply, nor did he slow down. His knuckles were turning white from how tight he was holding the wheel as though he was frightened out of his skull.

But why?

It could just be a wild animal.

'Or the Monster,' the voice at the back of my head spoke.

No. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't real.

Over the sound of the roaring engine, something else caught my ears, something bone-chilling.

A ferocious growl.

It was such high-pitched, it managed to pierce through the other sounds, dominating those.

What animal could that be?

A lion? A jaguar even?

But there lived none of those in these woods in the first place.

I turned to my father. "Papa, what is it?"

Again, no reply.

"You know what this is, don't you? Tell me."

This time, he gazed at me, his eyes strained with fear. "Darling, know that no matter what happens, papa will always protect y-"

He didn't even get to finish his words, before something hit our car in the back, forcing it off the track.

I watched with horror as my body swept to the window. The tires screeched against the asphalt as the car swiveled round and round.

Everything seemed to slow down as I saw my death and possibly my father's, dangling before my very eyes.

Then I saw it.

The reddish-gold eyes.

Like two saprkling rubies on fire, glaring from the cracks of the woods.

I didn't even hear my scream, nor my father's as everything around suddenly lost the touch of gravity, flipping in the air before me.

They crashed.

Flipped.

Crashed.

Flipped.

Finally coming to a cease.

I felt something warm trickling down my skull as a ringing sound buzzed through my ears. My hands proceeded to move, feeling no valor in them. The smell of gasoline mixed with burnt rubber almost sent me in the verge of choking.

"Papa," I whispered.

I tried to open my eyes, my vision too blurred to make out the upside down world outside.

"Papa?" I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a rush of air.

I was afraid something happened to him, yet I couldn't help.

I coerced my eyes to open wider, but black dots began to appear in my vision as I felt myself fading.

No, no, no...

Right before everything went dark, the blood-curdling scream of my father echoed throughout the air.

"Gisella!"

Followed by a gun shot.

My eyes fluttered open only to shut back from the sharp pain the bright light caused.

Gosh, Papa, why did you uncover the curtains this early?

Groaning, I turned the other way when a worse pain shot through my whole body, making a squeak escape my lips. My head hammered like it would burst anytime.

I shot up to a sitting position, clutching my head till the ache subsided by a fraction.

That was when I felt it. The bandage wrapped around my head.

My brows furrowed as I finally noticed my surrounding. Squinting, I took a glance around. A white themed room with minimal furniture and a huge glass window at one side.

Where was I? I couldn't recognize this place.

And what happened to me? Why couldn't I remember?

Papa.

My eyes widened as one by one the memories from last night began to replay in my head.

The move out.

The accident.

The gun shot...

"Papa. Papa!" I called, casting the blanket off of me and jumped out of the bed.

The second my feet touched the ground, another jolt of agony ran through my body. My head spun, making me stop and hold onto the wall till the phase passed. It felt as if something was broken inside. But I didn't care. All that ran through my head was my father. I had to find him. I had to make sure he was okay.

Limping to the door, I gripped the knob and twisted it.

Nothing happened.

It was locked.

What the!

I pounded on the wood. "Papa? Papa, are you there?" More pounding. "Papa, open the door. Please, open the door! I want to see you."

Sound of footsteps came from the other side, and I moved a few feet from the door, hoping someone would open it.

But alas!

The footsteps didn't even stop. It faded with the same pace it arrived with.

"What? Wait..." Running back to the door, I banged on it another round. "Wait, please! Let me out. I said lemme out, please!"

Frustration began to seep through my bones, making me feel like crying and breaking the door at the same time.

"Hello? Anyone can hear me? Please, let me out. I have to find my papa. Please!"

No one came.

Not even responded.

Heaving, I slid against the door, sobs racking through me. I couldn't fathom why would anyone imprison me like that. Or even what might have happened last night. What happened to my father? He was never the best of a man, but he was neither a bad man. I had never seen him hurt a soul, rather he helped the ones in need. Always.

Then why would anyone want to hurt him?

Nothing made sense to me, and it was burying me alive.

I didn't know how long I cried, or how long I stayed by the door, curling into a ball, but soon the night befell, and darkness consumed the room. The only light slithering inside was the slivers of the moon shining bright outside. I didn't even feel like getting up and turning on the lights.

At this point, I was a mess. I was hungry, thirsty, broken even and at the edge of hopelessness.

Until another set of footsteps reached my ears.

It was heavy and calculated, unlike the one from the morning.

But I stayed there, not wanting to get my hopes high and left disheartened once again.

However, as it neared, a jingle of keys sounded, before the lock began to click.

Breathing heavy, I climbed into my feet, taking a few steps back. This wasn't my papa. I knew his footsteps too well. They were soft and kind. Promptly, my eyes traced over the furniture, spotting a vase at the bedside table.

But before I could get it, the door widened, unfurling a figure so towering, so broad the doorway seemed too small for him. I couldn't make out his face, but I could tell he was staring right at me from the shadows.

"Wh-Who are you?" I questioned.

He didn't reply, only cocked his head to the side as if taking me in.

I took another step back, feeling self conscious. "I asked who you are!"

A long exhale left him, and he finally moved, slowly, dangerously stalking towards me like a predator would towards its wounded prey.

My eyes widened, and I turned around, dashing to the bedside table. Grabbing the vase, I whirled it in the air, but before I had the chance to cast it at him, a hand grabbed my wrist. Long fingers like iron vines pressed over my veins so hard it felt like the blood circulation was almost blocked.

"Ahh!" I screamed, both from pain and fear.

He twisted the vase out of my hand without so much of an effort and shoved me back against the wall.

The moonlight casting on the half of his face uncloaked honed facial features, and squared jawline with the shadow of a stubble.

But what took my breath away were those piercing silver eyes, bathing in the softness of the moon yet radiating the hardness of the earth. They seemed to look straight into one's soul.

The illuminated corner of his lips arched upwards, revealing a sharp canine poking his bottom lip, and for a second, I thought I heard the same growling from last night.

I gasped, coming to my senses. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the door ajar. I could make it if I could distract him.

His smirk broadened as if he already deciphered my plan.

I gulped, my hand clutching around the lamp on the bedside table beside me. Before he could make a move, I hauled the lamp up and threw it right at him. Not waiting to see if it hit the mark or not, I jumped over the bed running through the door out on a dark hallway. Rays of a dimmed blue light came from the end of it.

I sprinted towards it.

Perhaps freedom was near.

I could finally find my father.

Well...

I was wrong.

The second I neared the light, my foot lost the touch of the floor, and I found myself floating in the air, before my body came in contact with hard edges. Newfound pain generated throughout me as I tumbled down and down.

Landing on the tiled floor downstairs, I groaned, every inch of my skin aching. Darkness swallowed me whole as flashes of the car crash reiterated in my head once again.

This time it was all lucid.

This time a little detail that slipped me before, returned.

I could see my dad. He was standing there, a few feet ahead of the car. There was something glinting in his hand, something he was pointing at the other side.

I inclined my gaze to the direction.

There it was again.

The red eyes.

They were looking right at me...

...before the obsidian flash of its hugeness swooped out of the darkness and ran towards me.

"Gisella!"

I sprang back to consciousness, breathing hard.

It was after me. All this time of thinking the monster was after my father had been entirely wrong. My father was protecting me, not himself.

But why?

What did it want from me?

Wait...

I was forgetting something.

The man!

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt a presence above me. A hand pressed on my back, covering most of its width. Warm breath hit the nape of my neck, slowly approaching my ear, making goosebumps prick my skin in a frightening way.

"Little girl," he spoke.

It was the huskiest voice I had ever heard on a man, one that could chill one's soul severer than the Arctic, make a grown man fall to his knees.

"Who I am, isn't something you should be concerned about. What I'll do to you is what you should fear."

I didn't sleep last night, nor did I protest when he locked me back in the room. It wasn't like I didn't want to, but the fear of his statement and the immense pain in my body eradicated my will.

Who he was, and what he was gonna do to me, had been bugging me the whole night.

Then there was the flashback from the accident. If the monster really attacked me, then how did I get here? And where was my father in the first place?

The horde of questions as if took the shape of a tornado in my head, swirling around in search for answers only worsening the ache.

One thing was for sure, if I had to find my answers, I had to get out of here.

For the first time since I had been here, I got up and limped to the window at the other side of the room. The sun had just began to peak through the sky. As far my eyes could go, only rows of giant trees could be seen. There was no sign of a house or humans.

Looked like it was in the middle of a forest.

This brought out a disheartening sigh out of my mouth.

Of course he did that. Which creepy kidnapper imprisoned a girl amidst a packed town?

Wait...

I squinted my eyes, searching for a certain whiteness over the greenery, finding none.

No snow.

If not the snow already melted from the heat of the sunny day.

But then Chicago didn't possess such vast of a forest land to begin with.

Oh no. Realization hit me.

I wasn't in Chicago anymore.

Dread twisted in my gut, and I fought the urge of a rising panic.

I had to get out of here. I had to.

Standing on my tippie-toes, I glanced down. It seemed the house was on top of a small hill, and I was on the second floor. If I tried, perhaps I could escape.

A ray of hope bloomed in my heart.

Fumbling around the sashes, looking for a lock or something to open the window, my heart skipped a beat.

I realized there was none to begin with.

The window was sealed shut.

Secondhand disappointment coursed through my veins.

But no. A glass couldn't hold me back from going back to my father. I wouldn't let it.

Looking around, my eyes ceased at the lamp on the bedside table. I grabbed it upside down and positioned myself before the window. With all the might I could gather, I casted it at the glass.

The second my hand lost the contact, I braced myself as the sound of glass shattering filled the room. Maybe the outside as well. But I didn't care.

Removing my hands from over my eyes, my brows furrowed in the most daunting way.

There was indeed shards of glasses in the floor, but not from the window.

Only the lamp was broken, but not a single crack appeared on the window glass.

"No, no, no."

Picking up the base of the lamp, I slammed it back on the window, yet nothing happened.

I repeated my action, every fibre in my body protesting against it as pain jabbed throughout my skin.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

No luck graced my effort.

"No..."

I slid down on my knees, feeling out of breath, streams of frustration seeping into my blood. No matter what I tried, my attempts were going in pure vain.

The door burst open behind, and my eyes widened. Jumping to my feet, I moved back in fear of a certain man, when my eyes fell on a woman, probably in her thirties, observing me with caution. Her blue eyes moved to the ground, then back to me.

"Are you okay?" She took a step towards me, but then stopped, sending a brief look over her shoulder.

From her expression, it seemed she wanted to come examine me for injuries, but she too feared defying someone.

Coming out of the shock, I vigorously wiped away my tears and took a step towards her. "Please, help me. I need to get to my fath-"

"No." She shook her head, looking down. "I'm sorry, I can't help you," saying, she ran out, locking back the door.

"No, please. Wait!" Limping to the door, I banged at it, all my pain and grievance switching into suppressed anger, yet of course, she didn't come.

Not until after several hours.

When the sun shone over the head, there came a timid knock, before the door opened, and the woman's face appeared through the crack. With cautious steps she entered the room as though she was afraid of me.

How ironic!

The captors feared the hostage.

She put down a pair of clothes beside me on the bed.

"Please, take a shower and put these on. I'll take you down for lunch."

"Will I be able to go after that?" I asked, not looking up.

"I'm sorry, but please forget about that."

At this response, my anger got the best of me, and I shot to my feet. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I snapped. "Forget about it? Do you even know what you're saying? My papa is out there somewhere, probably wounded, and I can't even help him. I don't even know if he's alive..." My voice trailed at the end as newfound tears flowed down my eyes.

The woman stood there, eyes streched in shock. Soon she composed herself. "I'm sorry."

She genuinely sounded apologetic. It'd even so much calm my nerves if it wasn't for her next sentence.

"I'm afraid you have no other choice," she said, her voice thick in pity. "It's better if you just listen to me now. It's for your own good, trust me," she literally begged.

How could she even say this to me? How could she even suggest to drop the thoughts of my father and give in to a kidnapper? This was ridiculous. If she was in my shoes, then perhaps she'd understand my situation.

"No." I responded, stubbornly. "I'm not doing anything until you let me go."

"Please, dear-"

"Drop it!" I shouted, panting in rage. "Leave me alone!"

She listened and disappeared from before me.

It was exactly sixty seconds, before the door barged open, and a much younger girl appeared. With a flat expression and dauntless steps she approached me. Without warning, her hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me from the bed.

"Ahh! What are you doing? Let go of me!"

She didn't listen as she dragged me out of the room, down the stairs and to a kitchen. Pain stung from my head to the toes. No matter how hard I tried to get free, I couldn't match the strength she possessed. It was from the lack of food in my system or the pain or even the exhaustion, I couldn't say, but she was awfully stronger for a regular girl.

The woman was also there, looking like she contemplated between running away and helping me.

"Nola, bring her the food," she told the woman who instantly nodded and reached for the kitchen island.

"I said let go of me! I don't wanna eat!" I fumbled over her fingers tightly enclosed around my arm to get them off, but they wouldn't budge.

"Shut the hell up and sit down here!" She shoved me on a chair by the counter.

A tray of food was served before me. Toast with poached eggs and a glass of water. My stomach strained in need, but my brain was too over the fire to register it.

"Eat."

I glared at her. "No."

She glared me back.

"Please, dear, you haven't eaten anything yesterday. You'll die like that," Nola spoke.

"Then let me. I don't care. I'll rather die than give in to a kidnapper!"

My hand swiped over the counter, sending the tray flying to the floor. The sound of plates shattering echoed through the whole house.

The atmosphere as though froze for a lengthy moment. Even Nola's breathing stopped.

Feeling the burning of a gaze, I looked up from the mess on the floor to the girl to see her seething. For a moment, I even thought I saw her brown irises turn yellow. A growling sound vibrated from her throat.

"Calm down, Tera," Nola warned in an alarmed voice.

I didn't know why a grown woman was so afraid of a younger girl, but I seemed to realize it soon enough as Tera's teeth exposed to a snarl, before she advanced at me.

My hands shot up to my head, bracing myself for a painful impact.

But none came.

Not even a sound.

Silence prevailed around.

An eerie silence, like one before a storm.

Breathing heavy, I slowly let down my hands off my eyes to see a mascular hand blocking her strike a couple inches near my face. The knuckles on that were busted and small cuts braced all over the rough edges.

My eyes traveled up the taut, veiny arm to the most beautiful silver eyes I had ever seen on a person. They were as grey as thick, prowling clouds on a thunderstorm ready to strike whoever dared meet eyes.

Beautiful, yet dangerous.

Suddenly my mind was taken back to the night before, and my heart jerked in my chest in the most frightening way.

It was him.

The man from last night.

His eyes narrowed precariously.

"No one touches my prey but me."