The Alpha's Mistress

54

Word Count: 2212

Warning: mentions of abuse - read at your discretion.

~Sienna

The transport rocks to a stop, signalling the end of our lengthy journey.

The door pops open, Zion standing outside. He offers me a gloved hand, which I don't take. Instead, I clamber out on my own.

"You could look more pleased to see me," he says, stepping back.

I huff out a breath. "I'm not an actress."

I should have expected this. Zion has a deeply narcissistic streak in him that guides many of his decisions. It's what made him so okay with tormenting me and my mother for my entire childhood.

"I am your father, after all," he reminds me, as if it makes any difference at all.

Looking past him, my entire childhood slams back into me, nearly knocking me off my feet.

Nothing has changed about this place. It's still the same square, tall building that I often related to a prison. It's magnificent lawn was one I could never play on, at risk of an outsider or spy catching sight of me.

No one could know that Zion had a daughter. It meant I was captive in my own home.

And now I'm stepping back into that reality once again.

Panic unspools within me, causing me to stiffen. The courtyard my mother ran across with me in her arms, the wind and rain attempting to force us back into the arms of our captor comes into view.

Now it's bathed in sunlight, but in a blink I'm back to that night, having endured seeing my mother being beaten by my father before his hand turned to me.

My breath quickens, a burning sensation flaring up in my lungs. Suddenly, getting a deep enough breath seems near impossible as I teeter on the edge of hyperventilating.

"Sienna? What's going on?" Zion asks, grabbing my arm.
 
I wretch it away, stumbling back a few steps. "I can't do this."

All the years I endured beyond those walls have caught up to me after I thought I left them safely behind. The thought of having to be in that manor again is so nauseating my stomach is threatening to empty itself on the ground in front of me.

A shadow passes over Zion's face as he takes in my panic.

"There will be none of that here," he snaps. "Guards, bring her inside."

Two guards appear behind me, grabbing both of my arms. They almost lift me from the ground, ignoring my protests as we cross the courtyard toward the house.

My feet scramble and slip against ground as I'm dragged through the entrance, only to be dumped unceremoniously on the foyer floor.

I bow my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I don't want to confront my childhood, the life I've left behind. Seeing that almost nothing here has changed is jarring, sinking me deeper into the endless pit of despair I grew up in.

Zion crouches in front of me, his expression sinister.

"Now, I understand this is all very sudden, but you must listen to me," he says lowly. "If you want answers, you need to calm down. I will happily toss you into your room for the rest of the week until I'm satisfied you can listen. Alright?"

I let out a long breath. "I'm calm."

If there is anything I remember about Zion, is that he always carries out his threats. I really don't want to be trapped in my old childhood bedroom, stuck staring at the same cluster of trees I did when I was young.

He holds his hand out to me, helping me to stand.

There will be time for retaliation and escape when it's safe. For now, I need to concentrate on staying alive, and not getting myself stuck deeper into this situation.

"Excellent. Shall we go to the sitting room and have some tea?" He offers, his beaming smile making my skin prickle.

"I suppose…"

I walk behind him into the old sitting room. It hasn't changed at all, with the same dark blue seating and natural wood furnishings. The mullioned windows reveal the exterior of the house and the endless rolling hills I always dreamt of running over.

"We will have to get you measured for some better clothing than what you've been supplied at Alpha Onyx's house, won't we?" He comments as I sit awkwardly on the stiff couch.

I look had pale purple dress, touching the fabric gently. "I made this myself."

He looks startled at that, as if sewing was not always my passion after he stopped purchasing clothing for me. He can probably sense all the times Onyx has complimented this dress, and hates it for that…

"Well…as talented as you are, that is not my Pack's style," he mutters, sinking into a chair across from me.

Clenching my jaw to withhold a retort, I look down at the teapot and teacups set out on the coffee table. The sight is so quaint it's revolting.

"What tea do you prefer?" He asks, scooting forward so he can reach for the teapot.

"I'm fine," I mumble.

Seeing him doing something he has never deigned to do for me before is off putting. I'm unsure if he's trying to bond with me, or perhaps sate anymore breakdowns. Either way, I've never seen him pour someone else tea.

Any thoughts of good will are quelled as he gives me a sharp, awfully familiar look that has my fingers knotting tightly together on my lap.

"Jasmine. Thank you," I force out.

His stiff expression melts into a smile as he pours my tea. "You haven't changed, have you?"

"You didn't know me," I remind him coldly. "You never visited my wing."

He sighs, leaning back in his seat. "To be honest, I didn't have use for you then. Now I do."

I take a sip of my tea, grimacing as the scalding liquid bites at my tongue. It feels fitting to be in pain when I'm around him â€" nothing is ever just right.

"Why am I here?"

"I am getting old, and it has come to my attention that I do not have an heir to take my place," he responds casually, gesturing over himself.

I withhold the urge to snort. He does look older than I remember, with deep wrinkles scouring his face, the grey strands swallowing most the black and there's a bend to his shoulders and back.

"Will you not just train someone of your preference?" I ask vaguely, remembering what Onyx said to me one time.

He would rather die than have someone of his own blood take his place in power.

"That was my initial plan, until feelings toward me have…soured, within my Pack," he says carefully. "I can assure that it was never my intention to even have a child, to have someone who could pressure me to step down from my post before I was ready. Now, I need someone of my own blood to take over my position."

My mouth dries.

"Me?"

He laughs abruptly, as if the notion is so ridiculous it warrants humour. I stare blankly at him, not understanding.
 
"Not you, Sienna. Not unless I die earlier than expected." He sobers from his amusement. "I will, however, be training you just in case, but you are not ideal for the position. Your connections and allegiance to Onyx sully your leadership potential. Angel's forbid you make peace with his pack."

I narrow my eyes. If I had an ounce of power here, that would be exactly what I would do. I would unify this pack with Onyx's, and put this revenge business to rest.

But I know nothing is ever simple in politics.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" I question.
 
"I want his land, his power. Not his friendship," Zion responds, as if it's all so very obvious.

His malice and lack of compunction is exactly why his pack is turning against him. He's too overcome by his own arrogance to notice.

"So if I'm not to rule, who is? Do you have another child?" I ask, still struggling to piece together his logic.

"No. You must carry the next heir," he deadpans.

My brain short-circuits for a moment, everything becoming fuzzy.

"What?"

"You will marry next week to a man of my choosing. Then, you will work on falling with child as quickly as possible, so I can assure my Pack the line of succession is strong," he explains, sipping at his tea in a way that looks disturbingly out of character.

I stare at him in mute horror, rolling his words through my brain over and over to make sense of them. They are so ridiculous, they struggle to stick.

Standing, I ball my fingers into fists. "You're a maniac! You can't force me to fall pregnant…"

"I gave you years of your life with Onyx. I could have called you back but I refrained," he insists. "Granted, it took me a few years to determine where you were, but I always had the legal power to bring you back here."

I shake my head, bewildered.

"You only brought me back now because you needed me. You never cared for me before," I hiss.

"You think I would have ever allowed you to marry Onyx? His father has committed inexplicable horrors in this Pack. His line of succession cannot be forgiven," Zion snaps with asperity.

I clutch either side of my head. This can't be real. I fell asleep that night next to Onyx and I haven't woken up. I've been punished with a nasty dream to keep me humble.

But Zion really is sitting before me, his dark eyes cold and unfeeling.

"I'm marrying Onyx. I'm leaving right now," I growl.
 
"Would you like to know the cost of your departure?" His voice makes me stop.

I eye him warily. "What?"

"I'll kill everyone you've ever cared about. If you take away my right to an heir, I'll have nothing to lose in doing so," he responds tersely.

His threat is effective, causing me to sink back down onto the couch. There's a murderous fire burning in his eyes, warning me that he will carry out his promise with ferocity, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.

"You can't keep me prisoner," I say shakily.

He shrugs. "I prefer not to think of it that way."

Looking down at my hands, a bout of realisation hits me.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I breathe. "You were leaving me those notes?"
 
He frowns, staring at me as if I've sprouted another head. "Notes?"

"I was left notes that threatened me. I was told to tell Onyx my secret, that you were my father," I state, my gaze condemning him. "You killed all those girls to get me to ruin my relationship with him, and then you tried to have me killed at the Meeting of the Alpha's."

He stares at me for a long moment, his confusion palpable.

"I did not such thing. How absurd," he growls.

"You have me prisoner here. You do not need to lie," I remind him.

"I played no part in any of that." He shakes his head. "Whoever has been doing that has no connection to me. Here you shall be safe."

He seems so earnest, and now that he has me under his control, and my secret has been revealed to Onyx, he has no reason to continue lying…

"If it's not you, who is it then?" I ask, less to him and more to myself.

"It seems you need some rest. Why don't you go upstairs to your rooms." Zion angles his head with faux concern. "Tomorrow you meet your husband."

I have little choice in the matter. His guards don't need to escort me as I make my way upstairs, my feet weighed down by melancholy.

As I walk down the familiar halls, I scour my brain for more theories on who could be tormenting me, who could have been the one to almost kill me.

Whoever they are, they will be appeased now. Onyx knows my secret…he probably hates me.

I reach the familiar door to my room. I'm dreading being confronted by it again, considering my last memory involved being torn from my bed in the middle of night by my mother.

And now she's gone…

I pop open the door, opening it wide to reveal my room…

And a man.

"Ah!" I scream, shrinking back.

He turns, and much to my horror, I realise I know exactly who he is. It's Alpha Alston, the man I met at the Meeting of the Alpha's, staring at me with that familiar wide smile and sultry eyes.

He smirks at me. "Quiet down, Miss Dramatic. It's only me."

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