Chapter 15 Mirabelle
Mirabelle
Everything happens so fast. I have no clue why the handler had to shove me. It wasn’t like I was going to try and run out or anything.
Where would I go?
And I don’t think I even want to run. I get the impression that the alpha, Rage, doesn’t like being alone.
I don’t know whether I like his name. It sounds like the name the handlers gave him.
But I understand why, as his roar echoes through the room. His leather and metallic scent grows thick in the air with the hint of blood as his fury swirls around in the air.
I stumble to the floor, wincing as the rough concrete tugs at the scabs still left on my legs.
Before I can even process what’s happening, a large hand that spans nearly the entire width of my waist hauls me upwards. I’m tucked to his side like a sack of grain before he drags me to the corner furthest from the door.
“Wh—whoa! Wait!” I cry out, reaching down to grab his forearm as he spins me through the air.
My ass meets the cold concrete as he lays me down. His movements are rough, even though it seems like he’s trying his best to hold back his strength. It’s almost like he’s so strong, it’s hard for him to be gentle.
Regardless, he’s still considerate, curling one of his large hands behind my head so my head doesn’t hit the concrete floor. His thick thighs bracket my hips as he hovers over me, staring intently with those hypnotizing eyes of his.
“That—that was a little scary,” I say, letting out a shaky exhale as I tentatively reach up and brush my fingertips against his chest to give my hands something to do. “I thought you were angry with me.”
His brows draw down ever so slightly, almost like he’s confused before he offers me a single shake of his head.
My lips tug up into a proud smile. Even if he can’t talk, for whatever reason, it’s nice to know that he still understands what I’m saying.
“Oh! That’s good, then. Thank you for not hurting me.”
He lets out a soft growl, his lip curling back at my words.
I reach up and brush my fingers against his cheeks, trying to smooth out the fierce expression. He flinches backwards at my touch.
“Sorry, I—I should’ve asked whether that was okay.”
He eyes me warily before dipping his head, pushing his face against my outstretched hands. Giving me permission to touch him.
My fingertips brush against the scar tissue along the upper part of his cheek. Because of how large and jagged the scar here is, it makes his snarls look uneven, like one part of his mouth is tugged up permanently.
I continue to trace my fingertips over the rest of the scar, following the path until it’s around his left eye. The one that’s a little cloudy.
The scars here are old. Terrifyingly old now that I can get a better look at them. Possibly there since he was a teenager.
“Can you see this?” I ask, wiggling my fingers by my face.
He tilts his head as if he’s not sure what I’m doing, but he offers me a single nod.
“Good! Can you see this?” I ask, wiggling my hand a little to my right and his left.
He offers me a nod, though I can see the way his right eye tracks my hand.
“Okay, what about this?” I ask, wiggling my hand against the wall.
He tries to turn his head, but I reach up and still his movement with a hand to his cheek.
“I know this is a little weird. I just want to see something. Humor me?”
He stills again, and I offer him a bright smile.
The leather notes of his scent grow thick in the air around us.
I guess he likes it when I smile.
I glance down, a blush taking over my entire face when I see something in his boxers stir.
I guess he really likes my smile.
God, I really shouldn’t be thinking of this startlingly handsome, absolutely jacked alpha’s… member. Erect member.
Very, very, very large member.
I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay, try not to turn your head. Can you see this?” I ask, wiggling my fingers along where he should be able to see if he had any peripheral vision in his damaged eye.
Silence stretches out between us as he stays still.
“Can you?” I whisper, my voice strained.
He gives me a single shake of his head.
No.
Oh. He’s blind.
At least in that eye.
A pained sound leaves my throat as I reach back up and brush my fingertips gently against the old scars there. Someone took his vision from him.
He doesn’t like that noise, because his face twists, his lips pulling back as he lets out a growl.
“I—I’m sorry,” I say, pursing my lips together and blinking quickly to try to fight the burn of tears I feel behind my eyes. “I shouldn’t be freaking out. It’s—it’s just—“ I hold his face in my hands. “The world has been so mean to you.”
He freezes, his entire body going rigid as he looks down at me.
The confusion on his expression tips me over the edge. As the first tear falls, soaking into my hairline, his eyes follow it, but I know only his right eye can actually see.
“It just makes me sad. I don’t think you’re that much older than I am, and the thought of you having to go through all that pain alone just—it just breaks my heart.”
He reaches up to my face slowly, a slight tremble to his large hands as he brushes a tear away with a careful fingertip.
He narrows his eyes as his gaze cuts between his tear-stained finger and my face. He lets out a single frustrated-sounding grunt.
“You don’t like my tears?” I say, trying to put words to his expression.
At his singular nod, my lips pull up into a wobbly smile.
“Ah, yeah, sorry about that. I shouldn’t be crying.” I press the palms of my hands into my closed eyes and take a shaky breath.
Rage growls, making me freeze before I peek at him through my fingers.
“You really don’t like it when I hide my face, do you, big guy?”
He shakes his head.
“Alright,” I say, my hands falling to my sides. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He gazes at me, almost as if he’s afraid I’m going to burst into tears again.
I almost want to tell him that my crying isn’t going to make me whither away, but I don’t want to upset him. It really seems like he cares a lot.
After a beat of silence, he seems to decide. Still cradling my head to keep it from hitting the cold concrete floor below us, he leans down and buries his face against the crook of my neck, scent marking me.
He leans down onto his elbows, careful not to put his full weight on top of me. But his bare chest still brushes up against mine, making my nipples perk up against his warm skin. I don’t know what it is about alphas, but they all seem to be like big walking furnaces.
It’s nice, especially with the cold concrete at my back.
His chest vibrates with a purr, and with him on top of me, I can feel it flowing through my body. It’s an indescribable, out-of-body experience, how calm I feel with him surrounding me entirely.
I want to kiss him.
The thought hits me so suddenly that I’m left reeling. It’s such a… foreign thought, considering that I’ve never really had any opportunity for that kind of intimacy before.
Despite the fact that we’re locked in a concrete cell together, despite the fact this man is a feral alpha everyone else seemed sure would rip me apart the first chance he got, despite the fact that we’re being held captive by crazy, sadistic people who live their lives with no rules, I feel safe.
This man might as well be a wall of pure muscle, with the way he seems to block out the rest of the world.
I reach up and brush my fingers through his hair, running my nails across his scalp in the way he seemed to really like earlier.
I never would’ve expected to find four men like Rowan, Griffin, Ash, and now Rage in a place like this. All of them seem to fit in my brain in a way that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s hard to describe.
It’s probably best if I focus on the here and now.
I don’t think I’m going to die here today. Rage, despite his name, doesn’t seem at all interested in ripping me apart.
Which means the thing that I have to worry about is what happens to me after the handlers decide to come see whether I’m alive.
I’m starting to realize the feral alphas they think are the dangerous ones are the least of my worries here.