Blind Instincts

Chapter Seven

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Grumbled muttering reignites my mind with the rest of the world, my reviving thoughts unable to piece together my current situation. My body floats as I inhale the intoxicating scent of the nearby alpha. My senses are overwhelmed in a familiar way, it happens every time he is around. Before I even try to fight it, my body reacts to it in a way I only imagine is the mate bond forcing me to him.

I exhale as a way to retake my body from the bond, a croaked sound escapes my painfully dry lips as I do. It noticeably brings everyone's attention to my stirring consciousness, the Alpha stepping heavily towards my waking body.

"What's wrong with you?", I'm instantly bombarded with criticism from his gruff, irritated voice. The alpha stands over me fiercely, visibly angry at my actions. Again, I'm taken aback by his actions. His words spill in unprofessionalism, unlike how I ever imagined an alpha to perform. "she didn't mean it, it was just an accident," somebody from behind picks up, who I soon recognize as Alina.

"You can leave now, Alina. I have issues that needs discussing." Alina is dismissed, to which she replies, "yes, Alpha," then leaves. Being alone with Alpha Alaric makes me nervous, turning my head opposite the direction he stands in. I wish Alina could stay, I would be so much more comfortable in his presence if she were here. Not that I trust either of them, but Alina is the nicest a person has ever been to me.

"Do I constantly have to keep my eye on you? Were you trying to kill yourself?" His speech makes me wince at how harsh it is. "I mean, you get here mere days ago and already dove off a balcony." He's unrelenting. His anger takes another reform, as he gets so close to me, yelling in my face as he grabs me and forces me towards him, "look at me!"

I do nothing. He sets me down gently, perhaps remembering through his frustration that I can't see him. This is the peak of his anger, which is relieving to my mind. Despite his outbursts being nothing less than terrifying, at least he didn't do anything worse. Even if I wanted to, I can't look into his eyes, I can't perceive him.

"Why did I even take you here?" He questions, more to himself than to me. It becomes more and more evident that he wants nothing to do with me. I want to know the answer to that as well, home seeming like a vacation compared to what living here is like. I don't want to be here, and he does not want me here. Why the hell am I here.

"I only wanted-" I stutter over all of my words, as normal, "to hear the gardener singing" more stumbling, an anxiety driven condition. I forcing out a guttural sigh of frustration, unable to cleanly layout a sentence. I hear a whine caught at the back of my head, a whimper of desperation that makes me sit up in a strike of fear. I catch it from the back of my mind, realizing I'm the only one that heard the whines. I fall back down in a plop as an excruciating pain throbs on my side. A pain I've felt before, though this time I did it to myself.

I feel up my shirt to the side of my stomach, where a trickle of warm liquid forms. This time, it is me who yelps in pain as I touch the wound. I lift my shirt slightly, just enough to reveal the already stitched injury. As much as it hurts to touch, I run my fingers up the stitches with some already crusty, dried blood. Sitting up caused more blood to spill, likely staining the bed under me and the clothes attached to me.

I still feel the Alpha's powerful presence over me, probing his eyes along my injured body. He says nothing and no longer seems angry. He seems as bipolar as my mother, if not more.

"Allow me," he says in an undertone, almost annoyed. He takes a wet cloth in his hand, wringing it. I quickly move my own hand to cover the wound, wanting no more closeness than what already is. His hamd clenching the wet cloth drops to his side, watching me force away from him.