Taken For The Alpha ✔️ - 31 - Wattpad
Taken For The Alpha ✔️
by Midika
!
Taken For The Alpha ✔️
18+ read at your discretion! My hands tremble by my sides. "Don't sleep with her..." He steps toward me, his eyes dark. "Why not?" "Whatever you were planning to do to her tonight, do it to me instead," I whisper.
Ayah has always been unremarkable in every way other than in the power she wields. Since she was little she has been able to heal even the most fatal of wounds. Because of this, her father has locked her away, keeping her powers safe from the outside world. That is, until a man appears below her balcony, giving her a glimpse into the freedom she could finally have. However, the moment she starts to trust him, he takes her captive, revealing his identity to be a powerful Alpha who needs her to heal his younger sister. But when the girl's illness becomes impossible for Ayah to heal, she is dragged on a journey beside the Alpha to find an amplifier. On the way, she learns their connection goes deeper than their heated attraction, to a soul bond neither can deny.
Word Count: 1988
1
~Ayah
I lick glazed sugar off my fingertips, feeling painfully overstuffed from my third helping of Blake's mother's desserts.
She is a phenomenal cook, and I've been reaping the reward.
Blake steps over to me. "Alright, we're going to pack up here and head home."
"Already?" I turn to see her mother packing what is left of the desserts into containers for storage.
Dusk has melted into a sharply cool night. The lights are brighter, the snow more illuminated with colour as the festivities increase with fervour. They're about to light the bonfire soon, people beginning to crowd around excitedly.
"The stalls need to be gone by midnight so people have space to dance and celebrate," Blake explains, folding a makeshift advertising sign up before she tucks it under her arm.
"You're not staying?" I'm disappointed. I'm not ready for this night to end.
"It's not really my thing. I'm going to head home and sleep." She eyes me carefully, a cool breeze rifling through the lengths of her hair. "You probably should too."
I don't miss her unease.
"Why? What actually happens after midnight?" I twist to look around, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary. There's definitely a lack of children around now, though.
"A ritual is completed," she says as we work together to pack leftover desserts into containers. "People spill their blood on an effigy then dance and celebrate all night. It's said to appease an old God and to give good luck over the next year."
I stare at her face, waiting for her to erupt into laughter and admit to teasing me. Nothing shifts in her expression aside from quiet concentration.
"Sounds creepy." I shudder.
"People really get into it." She grins knowingly. "Fertility is also said to be boosted on this night. I think it convinces people they are hornier than usual."
I give everyone another look. They do all seem to be drinking, slowly drifting closer to the bonfire as if being tugged by an intangible string.
"That's...interesting."
"I once snuck out of home to witness what happened here after midnight." Blake pulls a face. "Let’s just say the snow and ice doesn't stop people from shedding their clothes, although I suppose their activities keep them warm enough."
I fold my arms, drumming my fingertips against my biceps. What she's telling me should be frightening, but surprisingly, I'm more curious than anything else.
"And Zaon lets this happen?" I clip the lids of the containers, putting them in cloth bags that Blake holds open.
She nods. "He celebrates it. People are liberated here, free to do what they please in a controlled environment."
"Yet I can't bear witness to it," I grumble.
When Zaon told me I could attend, he warned me there would be an expiry time to my night. He launched into an overly prolonged speech about how I needed to be home by midnight but refused to elaborate much further.
I just didn't realise why until now...
Blake levels a look. "If Zaon advised against attending, I would listen."
"Fine. I'll head home," I concede.
"Good idea." She visibly relaxes.
We finished cleaning up and dismantling Blake's mother's stall, leaving no trace it was ever there. Blake balances her bags on her shoulders, giving me a little wave
"I'll see you later, okay? And don't be sad you're not attending tonight. I'm sure there's always next year."
I'm still undecided on whether I'm actually dodging the rest of the festival or not. I know I should listen to Blake's suggestion, but I'm just so curious.
And after a life of isolation, I want to live in every way possible.
"I'll be long gone by next year," I tell her wistfully. Hopefully I'll be in another pack, living the life that has been continuously stolen from me.
"We'll see. Night!"
I watch Blake walk away with her mother by her side. They vanish around the bonfire, the flames of which lick up into the violet night sky.
With Blake gone, a sudden sense of unease settles over me. Maybe I will head back up to the manor for now. If I can gather the courage, I'll come down for a peek later.
Lit lanterns guide me up the path through the valley. The snow that fell in great heaps last night has been stamped down from all those who have walked this way, making the trek upward a little easier.
As I round the bend, a figure in the distance approaches, bathed in darkness.
The closer I get, I realize it's Slate.
"I hope you're heading home." He pauses in front of me. He's wearing an adapted guard uniform, which with a few embellishments that signify rank.
I roll my eyes. "Anyone else feel like telling me I can’t be here after midnight?"
"You're safer in your room." He looks past me, clearly bothered that he even has to have this conversation with me.
I definitely shouldn't marry him.
"Is someone going to try to kill me?" I question, wrapping my coat around me further. It's colder up here, away from the bonfire and sweating bodies.
He pauses. "Well, no."
Turning, I look down at the festival in the distance. It glows so brightly, the bonfire burning with as much fervor as when it was first lit.
"Then what's the danger?" Why can't he just say it? Blake was cagey about it too, but at least I could infer from her selective words what will happen tonight.
He sighs roughly, breathing pooling in great clouds in front of him. "People are looser and more frivolous tonight. You'll likely be approached by many."
I fold my arms. "Is that so bad?"
I'll just turn them down. I want to witness tonight's events without actually becoming immersed in them.
Slate's eyes narrow, before he smiles. It's the slightest, barest tug at the corners of his mouth, but it's enough to give me pause.
"I suppose not." He shrugs. "Unless you prefer your Alpha in a good mood."
"Zaon isn't my Alpha," I correct sharply. "I'm sure he has someone he wants to entertain tonight."
He's still down there, doing who knows what. I swallow the thick lump of what better not be jealousy as I look back at the festival.
When I look back, Slate is studying my face. "I imagine he does. One he cannot have."
He says it in such a loaded manner. He has someone in mind, but isn't saying it.
"He can have whomever he wants." I hope I sound as unbothered as I want to feel. There is nothing stopping him from indulging, and there is no reason I should care.
"You do not need to worry about him participating in the fun tonight," Slate says, like he's assuring me.
I eye him suspiciously. Why does he think I care? Is he aware of what transpired between Zaon and I while we were away? His growing amusement suggests as much.
"I'm assuming Raven will be in attendance," I mutter.
"She will be, but that won't be the problem," he shakes his head slowly. "She distracts herself with substances and plenty of men and never notices Zaon's affairs."
I frown. "What is the problem then?"
He tips his head back and groans at what I'm not grasping. I'm sure I know what he is insinuating, but that is a dark path I refuse to go down.
"Go home. For both of our sakes." He points back up the hill with unnecessary force.
"What do you get out of this night?" I question warily. I can't imagine such festivities are in Slate's nature.
"I keep an eye on everything. I make sure everyone is safe and returns home safely. It's my duty and it's our Alpha's," he explains with his usual sturdiness.
"Stop calling him my Alpha," I hiss. Until I'm married to someone in this pack, I'm going to retain my independence from this place.
Slate only shakes his head. "Goodnight, Ayah."
He swerves around me, heading down the hill.
"Whatever," I grumble, watching him walk until he becomes another smudge in the distance.
I look up, and then back down the hill.
Maybe I'll just watch from a distance for a while. If it's too much to handle, I leave.
I manage to find a good vantage point on an outcrop of rocks that overlook the festival. Settling down, watching the bonfire burn and flare into the night sky, I prepare to watch the night unfold.
Slowly, people begin to approach the fire, forming lines. From a distance, I can see them picking something up, drawing it through their hand before they clean it. Then, they approach the fire and hold their fist over it.
I frown. What are they doing?
After a few more people have a go at it, I realize they are cutting their hands and bleeding into the fire. This is clearly a part of the spiritual practice. The unfamiliarity of it makes me wary, but equally curious.
I want to go down and see more. I can't help myself.
By the time I reach the bottom of the hill again, I'm cold. Thankfully the fire's warmth welcomes me as I approach it.
I spot a female who is cleaning a knife off with a wet cloth, her hand red and weeping from where she bled into the fire. I sidle up to her, feeling a brief flicker of anxiety. I don't converse easily with strangers.
"Hi, sorry, can I ask you something?"
She looks up at me with large blue eyes so pale, they are like pools of moonlight.
"Yeah, sure."
She tosses the cleaning rag away, admiring the silver glint of the knife's blade. Firelight dances across it, the blade so sharp I wince at the thought of it sliding across my skin, even if it's something I often do when healing people.
"If I'm not from this pack, should I offer my blood?" I ask.
"If you believe in this pack's prosperity you should." She flips the knife so the handle is facing me. "I mean, I'm sure it doesn't do anything, but it's how we show our respect."
I really don't care much for the safety of this pack, but I'm curious. Spiritual practices aren't so diverse back home as they are here.
"Alright, I'll give it a try then."
"Once you know the blade is clean, you cut your palm." She raises her hand to demonstrate, mock dragging the blade over it.
I gesture at the fire. "You first."
"Fine." She slices into her palm with a moment's hesitation, not looking even mildly impacted by the sting I know all too well.
She approaches the fire, the blaze making her skin glow. Holding her hand over a cluster of pulsing embers, she squeezes her fingers into a fist, blood dripping down until it sizzles against the heat.
She looks at me over her shoulder. "Easy as that."
She helps me clean the knife, wrapping a linen cloth around her hand to stop the bleeding of her wound. I would offer to heal her of the minor ailment, but fallout from that could be monumental.
I cut into my palm, right over the scar that heals each time I do this, and never fades. Crimson pools in my palm as I approach the fire, feeling the taunting lick of heat against my skin.
Turning my palm downward, I let my blood drip down into the embers.
With a second, the flames violently rear up, engulfing me entirely.
+
🩷••🩷
+
Thank you everyone for continuing to read this story, your support means everything to me (:
+
If you want to read ahead, this story is 15 chapters ahead on INKITT (@midika) and is 5 chapters ahead on RADISH.
+