The Exiled Alpha | ✓

17 | Demons

"What?" His voice is strained and shaky.

I know that tone. That's the way he always talked when we were kids and he was about to have a fit. Nearly seven years later and that's the only thing that hasn't changed about him.

"He's. My. Mate," I repeat, emphasizing every word like I'm rubbing salt in an open wound. "Did you get it that time?"

He laughs, trying to cover up the twitch in his eye, but it's an empty sound. "That's tragic then. Because that doesn't change anything. You're already taken."

A roar of thunder comes again, like it's in tune with my emotions.

"It's funny how he kidnapped me yet he still treated me more humanely than you ever will again," I say sourly. I turn on my heel to leave, sick of even looking at him.

"Where are you going?" He calls angrily. His footsteps trail behind me until they catch up. Like a sixth sense, I can feel his hand reaching out for my arm.

I spin around on a dime, my eyes black as I snarl in his face.

"Try to touch me and see what fucking happens," I snap, my voice so firm that it almost breaks.

He freezes in place as he makes his decision, then takes a cautious step backward. I can hear him swallow, the sound amplified by the silence. It makes me want to lunge for his throat so it never swallows again.

"Your stuff is being moved here," he says quietly.

I raise an eyebrow at the audacity of his wording. He truly is trying to act like it didn't happen. So I decide to correct him.

"You mean being moved back?"

He grimaces, almost as if he's ashamed of something.

I shake my head and storm away. If I stay near him any longer then that thin line of control could easily break. And murder charges are the last thing I need, especially against the Alpha's spoiled son.

I storm down the hall, fuming to the point that I can't think straight. I leave Nathan's house, regretting ever going in. I simply walk without thinking, and somehow, my legs lead me to a rock face that helps to form the natural walls around our camp.

This side of the barrier, however, has an opening. An archway carved into the stone of the cliff. The stairs within lead into the underground, a massive cave made into the rock.

As I descend down a heavy feeling settles in my stomach. Everything is the same as I remember it— the glistening lake thirty foot below where I walk, the silver bars in the wall that seal off my chamber from the rest of the world. The only thing different is that there are no guards standing point to shun me.

As soon as I peer through the bars, reality washes over me like a flood. I realize that my eyes are hot and my vision is blurred. My breathing becomes shallow and shaky as I stare at the bare, short corridor. It splits at the end, the corners hiding what's further in the cell in either stone hallway.

My mouth goes dry when I see a small orange roll of paper laying on the ground in a pile of smeared ashes. I notice I'm squeezing my own hand, the knuckles of one pressed into the palm of the other.

Why did I come back? It's not like I'll miss it.

It's been a year and a half. The longest I've ever stayed out uninterrupted. Now that record is being threatened.

"Miss it?" A deep voice echoes in the cave. I turn my head, but the rest of my body is cemented in place.

My response is immediate, and somehow, composed. "No."