Page 11 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

“Just relax, Emery,” he says, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “Sleep for now; it is a long drive before we arrive home.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

My home, my family, have been destroyed; he’s taken everything from me.

Everything I’ve ever known. I close my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks as he forces me to rest my head on his shoulder.

The last thing I remember is his voice. “You’re mine, and one day I’ll be yours, too; you hate me now, you won’t forever, and we have forever, Emery. ”

We drive in silence for what feels like hours, the cityscape gradually fading into the wilderness. Once thin and sparse, the trees soon take up the whole skyline. I sleep on and off the entire drive; however, Alpha Dion refuses to let me off his lap.

As the limo slowly winds up the newly paved road toward the mansion, I feel a mix of trepidation. The sprawling estate encapsulates Dion’s pack’s values: grandeur, power, darkness, and fear.

We’re in Alpha Dion’s territory, I realize with a sinking feeling. My new home. The grandeur of his pack house does little to comfort me.

It’s a large stone and wood structure with a menacing feel that matches the man who claimed it—and me.

I can feel the eyes of his pack members on me as we get out of the car, their curious and cautious glances telling me they know who I am and what happened.

It’s a new world, a new order, one where I am not the Alpha’s daughter but the Alpha’s prisoner.

Alpha Dion guides me into the house and through the winding hallways to a room.

He opens the door, revealing a simple room.

The room is painted a soft white with wooden molding on the walls.

Despite the tasteful decor, it feels more like a cage—cold and sterile, with bars on the windows and heavy locks on the door.

My heart races as I take in my surroundings—the barred windows, the heavy locks on the door—but instead of focusing on my fears, I try to focus on what Alpha Dion is saying.

“This will be your room,” he says, stepping aside to let me in. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to walk inside. He follows, watching me silently as I move around the room. I turn back to him, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“When will you make me your Luna?” I ask, my voice shaking despite my attempt to sound brave. He chuckles, his cold eyes boring into me.

“In due time, Emery. You’ll need to adjust first. We have all the time in the world.” The cold realization that this is my life now settles in. I am his captive, and soon, I will become his Luna. There’s no escaping.

“I understand,” I reply, trying to sound more assured than I feel.

“Remember, Emery,” he begins, his tone turning icy, “You’re mine now. You belong to me, to my pack. Any act of defiance will be considered treason. And treason will not be tolerated. Understand?” I nod once, not trusting my voice.

“If you try to run, there will be harsh consequences. I need to know you understand that,” he tells me, and a shiver runs down my spine feeling his aura slip out slightly.

“I understand.”

He studies me for a few more moments, then turns to leave. “I’ll have some clothes sent to your room,” he says, pausing at the door. “Rest, you’ll need it.”

Once he leaves, I slump onto the bed, exhaustion washing over me. I had been running on adrenaline for most of the day. My body is heavy, and my mind is numb from the events.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I push them back.

My hand instinctively goes to my neck. I don’t feel any puncture marks, but I remember his bite clearly. The touch sends a shiver through me.

I take a deep breath, forcing my racing thoughts to calm. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now, I need to adapt to my new surroundings, my new reality, the prisoner of Alpha Dion.

And, maybe, I can find a way to turn this nightmare into something bearable.

I’m locked in the room for hours when someone finally brings me fresh clothes and my jewelry box. “The Alpha said to tell you to be in the dining room for dinner in an hour,” the man tells me.

I nod, and he turns to leave when I speak again. “Wait, how can I tell when the time is to leave?”

He stops and sighs before turning to face me again. He then lifts the sleeve of his shirt, passing me his watch.

“Don’t be late,” he warns, and I take the watch.

He nods once, then slips out of the room, only this time, I don’t hear the lock.

I move to the clothes piled on the end of the bed to find it’s another dress.

Memories of the one I had on flit through my mind, and looking at this one, I suddenly feel very exposed; however, as I rummage through the items, I start to panic when I notice one thing. There is no underwear.

The thought makes me swallow hard when my gaze darts to the jewelry box.

The belladonna! I quickly rifle through it, pulling my necklace off and pulling the fabric back at the bottom, I press the locket in and it makes a pop sound.

I quickly close the locket, placing it back on and opening the sealed false bottom compartment to find a velvet bag.

Opening the little compartment, I tip the pills in my hand.

Worried of being caught with them, I hastily put them back, all but one.

I reseal the jewelry box and make sure they’re hidden.

Heart racing, I rush to the bathroom and pop the pill in my mouth before swallowing some water from the small sink.

Lifting my head, I spot my reflection in the mirror. Blood is smeared on my face, my hair a haystack piled on top of my head, and I’m covered in scratches, bruises, dirt, and muck, so I decide to shower.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the massive shower. The hot water feels soothing, washing away the tension in my muscles and the remnants of my former life. I towel off and dress in a thin dress. It feels alien against my skin, but not as alien as not wearing underwear.

I glance at the watch, realizing I don’t have much time left.

I leave the room, stepping into the labyrinth that is Dion’s packhouse. Corridors intertwine like a knot of serpents. Long hallways stretch out like endless tunnels, and grand staircases spiral upward appearing to never end.

After a bit of wandering, I eventually find my way to the dining room. It’s a massive space with a carved table taking center stage and two more lining either side of it. A massive chandelier hangs overhead, its crystal teardrops shimmering under the glow of the lights.

Dion sits at the head of the table, engrossed in a newspaper.

As I enter, he folds the paper, setting it down before gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

I make my way to the seat, my anxiety forming a tight knot in my stomach.

Dion and I sit in silence for a few moments.

I can feel his eyes on me, analyzing every movement I make.

I try to avoid moving, lest I draw more attention to myself.

“I believe it is time we discuss your situation here.” His voice is deep and powerful, though it has a touch of kindness to it. Something I’ve yet to hear from him. He takes a sip from his glass of whiskey before continuing.

“The circumstances surrounding your arrival were… less than ideal, but that doesn’t mean you will be miserable here.

I am also shocked to learn I have a mate.

Mates are rare, Emery. Not something anyone should pass up, but mark my words, if you force my hand, it will end badly for you.

I have got on just fine for the past seventy years without a mate, I don’t require one. ”

I’m taken aback by his age, he’s older than my father but doesn’t even look to be forty. I blink, dumbfounded, trying to work out how long Hybrid’s live.

He goes to speak again when my brain malfunctions and word vomit spills to my horror from my lips. “You’re seventy.” He doesn’t seem amused by my question.

“Is that an issue?”

I shake my head, but my eyes are wide as they trail over him.

“Shouldn’t you have gray hair, a walking cane, and maybe arthritis?” I blurt, and he sighs loudly, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

I nod. “You’re seventy, like an old man seventy.” I cover my mouth, suddenly finding the situation hilarious. I snicker.. The magazines were right, you marry your father, in my case, I’m mates with my grandfather. A giggle bubbles out of my lips, and he clearly does not find my thoughts funny.

“And you are showing every bit of your eighteen years of age, little girl. I’m a Hybrid, we stop aging and have immortal life spans,” he clarifies.

“Well then, at your merry old age, shouldn’t you know better than to try to win your mate over by killing her parents and kidnapping her!” I retort. He ignores my remark.

“As I was saying, your time here doesn’t have to be miserab le, behave and do as asked. You might find you like it here.” Because that’ll happen, I muse. Does he expect me to fall in love with my parents’ killer, to worship at his feet, roll over, and give him my tummy? I think not.

He glances toward the door, and I hear footsteps. “We’ll finish this conversation later, but you’ll meet a few of my pack members tonight, my Beta, and a few others, but first, I want to speak with you.”

I chew my lip nervously.

“You haven’t shifted yet. I could taste it in your blood, so you don’t recognize me as your mate?” he states. I shake my head, and he sighs heavily. “You will, but I can’t mate you until you shift, or I risk killing you when I knot you.” Just the thought of his words makes my stomach sink.

I feel the blood drain from my face. He ignores my palpable fear. “When do you turn nineteen?” he asks. My heart rate rises, and I stare at him, not wanting to answer. “When, Emery?” he demands.

Tears burn my eyes. “Three days.”