Alpha Noah

~Abella

A soft click by my ear wakes me.

For a moment, all I see is darkness. I try sit up, but my arms don’t respond. My wrists, which dangle above my shoulders, are shrouded in a cool, hard metal, which as I startle fully awake, the yanks of protest don’t free me. Chains clang together, a signal of my capture, even if I’m still too groggy to determine where I am, or who has tied me down.

I’m in a bed. One of Noah’s guest beds, I’m lying here tied down, in the middle of the night, with my attacker somewhere in this room, their identity completely unknown to me. Their footsteps cease, as the bed suddenly sinks.

Now is my time to react.

My mouth opens to scream, but a hand slams down to cover it, muffling my protests. Thrashing and kicking, I lash out toward my attacker, wherever they may be. Panic streaks through my veins, as desperately fight for my life, trying to figure out who would want to take my life. No one comes to life, but at least it’s not Cian…there are no sparks as this man holds me down.

“Please, I haven’t done anything wrong,” I mumble through his fingers, hoping one will slip into my mouth so I can bite it. His body is suddenly on top of mine, not too heavy, as he pins me down by my legs, ensuring that I can’t go anywhere.

He leans down, right by my ear, his breath hot and sharp. “Scream, and you die. You’re safer being quiet, as you are never going to escape until I want you to.”

Chills. They consume me.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

This is Stace, holding me down, atop me like I’m some kind of victim awaiting…I don’t even want to think about that. My clothes are still intact, but his intentions are unknown. Slowly he takes his hand from my mouth, and I don’t scream, adhering to his warning. Stace has killed me before, and I doubt he would hesitate in finishing me off for good.

“Why? Why me?” I whisper, as I feel him move down my body. As my eyes adjust to the light, I can see the outline of his body, bigger than I remember. He’s a man, a large man, who I have no hope of escaping until he’s done with me.

I wish I could brush the tear from my cheek. It’s a moment of weakness.

“You are to be marked,” he tells me gruffly. The accent entwined in his voice is like none other, coming from a land I hope I never am a part of.

“No, you can’t mark me!” I yelp, struggling against his touch, but he holds my hips down firmly, leaving me no choice but to submit to him for a moment to conserve my energy. I will wait until he releases me from these shackles before I make my next move. For now, I hope he will have mercy on me, and won’t brand me.

Stace isn’t my mate. I don’t know who he is, but this I can be sure of. If he marks me, it could kill me. It’s completely possible for my body to reject his mark, especially as he is not my mate, which is surely his plan. Maybe he will plant it on Cian, saying it was his mark that killed me.

The he could easily get away with it.

“I already have a mate who is yet to mark me. Please, he’s immortal, he will come for you and he will kill you,” I plead with him, hoping I can convince him out of fear.

Instead, he ignores me completely, placing his hands on my knees, before slowly, painfully dragging his hands up my thighs until they delve under my night dress. I bite my lip, holding in a scream I want to let out so desperately. He is going to defile me, do horrible things to me in the dead of the night, with no one here to save me.

“This isn’t the mark you think it is, Abella. Soon you will be mine,” he breathes, hiking my dress up completely over my hips, before he delves his head between my legs. What mark does he think he’s leaving? A mark of a mate would be to claim…

Before I could pull my leg away again, I feel him biting at my skin, right in my inner thigh. It’s an excruciating pain, which despite my better judgement, for my safety, I scream.

It echoes off the walls, but Stace doesn’t relent.

Finally, he pulls away, but the pain only lifts into a sting. He’s off me in a second, most likely not bothered by the pain I’m in, or the tears streaming down my face. He marked me. He marked like a mate should, and it was painful and wrong. I just can’t understand why he would do this to me. He killed me, made me immortal and then marked me?

“You will start to feel the effects in a few days,” he tells me, getting up off the bed to his feet. I can feel his stare, even if I can’t see it. I wish I could curse him, scream at him. But I’ve already done enough to almost get myself killed.

Just as these thoughts cross my mind, he vanishes.

The only reason I know he is gone, is because the light suddenly flickers on, and I’m struck by blindness for a fleeting moment. Once my vision comes back, I see Noah running into the room frantically, his dark hair mussed about, clearly from sleep, his shirt off completely. But I don’t concentrate on that, but instead the frightened expression on his face as he looks down at me.

Raising my head, I see my thigh, where he marked me. Blood pools out everywhere around my legs, coating the sheets and my skin. My heart stops, seeing the brutality. For once, I’m not worried that Noah is seeing my violet coloured blood, which matches his own.

“What happened?” he questions, rushing into the room. Immediately he comes for my wound, but my desperate cries lead him to remove my shackles with his hands, his strength enough to have them crumpling into nothing.

“I was attacked,” I say through sobs, rubbing my wrists as I’m finally released. Sitting up, I ignore the sharp pain in my leg, as I fight to keep myself awake. The pain could, at any moment, have me passed out.

That’s the last thing I need.

“By who?” He questions, sitting on the bed to look down at the wound. He isn’t questioning the blood just yet, but I can see how the colour has drawn from the face, those emerald eyes wider than I’ve ever seen. Now this has happened, Noah is never going to look at me the same, and whether I like it or not, I’m tied to him. He knows my secret, and also knows the answer to why I have it.

“Stace, the man who killed me,” I say wiping my eyes, taking in shuddering breaths as I attempt to contain myself. “Noah, he marked me. He’s not my mate and he marked me.”

“It wasn’t a mark of a mate. This is something else,” he tells me.

As I go to ask more questions, he leaves me, disappearing into the side bathroom before returning with a wet cloth. Inching up the bed, I eye him apprehensively, as he approaches my open leg. He stares at me earnestly, trying to determine whether I trust him enough to let him wipe away the blood with the flannel. It’s not just because he will touch my inner thigh, but because of the colour of my blood.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs assuredly. I nod, giving permission for him to wipe me down. He positions himself by my feet, gently running the warm towel across the skin. I close my eyes, as every pull streaks right back to the mark, which is permanently etched into my skin.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry you felt alone, when I saw your blood and demanded to know what you are. When I saw that you have the same infliction as me, I panicked. I wanted answers before made myself vulnerable,” I whisper.

Noah sighs. “I understand. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.”

I sit up, looking down at him. As he cleans my leg, his eyes remain planted on the mark, which the more he cleans, the more visible it becomes. It’s big, inflamed and has ripped into my flesh. This will take a long time to heal, which means hiding it…from Cian. What would I tell him? I don’t need an immortal disappearing to enact revenge on whoever Stace is.

“What is this situation? What just happened?” I question him. I doubt Stace is going to return to give me answers, so my next hope is Noah, who has proven to keep secrets until he feels like admitting the truth to save his conscience.

Noah leans back, my blood up his arms, across his chest and even his abdomen. “Stace killed you, to activate a dormant power within you. This mark ensures your submission to him, as your King, and that the abilities linked to who you are go through him first.”

I blink a few times, his words not sinking in.

“Please explain,” I whisper hoarsely. “Because none of what you just said makes any sense.”

“You are a part of a powerful bloodline of daemon creatures, with unexplored powers. It’s small, with very few bloodlines being involved. Stace is ensuring that everyone out there that once hid their powers are free to do it, but under his reign. Which is why he marked you,” Noah explains, his tone calm, as if he hasn’t just told me something so unbelievably ridiculous.

“I don’t understand. This isn’t true,” I tell him. Despite what just happened, despite the colour of my blood, I can’t believe I’m something that I never knew even existed.

Noah moves up the bed closer to me.

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Stace has done the same to me,” he tells me softly. And that’s when I begin to panic.