The Alpha's Possession

✙ Chapter 4 ✙

Editied 12/23/14

When I kneed him, I hadn't been thinking about my injuries.

The pressure I forced upon my leg, especially my thigh, caused a severe amount of pain that almost made me crumble to the ground. The urge to scream overwhelmed me, but I bit bottom lip hard enough to the point that it started bleeding, holding down the rising sound. As he dropped to his knees with a wheeze, I leaned against the nearest couch for support, scolding myself. The Alpha, Drew, was rocking back and forth slightly, his eyes bulged as his hands covered his groin. He was breathing heavily, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. He still felt the pain that came with being human, thankfully. As I gathered the courage to run, a part of me felt remorse for kneeing him. I knew his intention hadn't been to harm me, but the mention of mates was unbelievable. It was impossible and I was going to continue denying it, no matter what the mate-pull forced between us. Shaking my head, I pushed away from the couch, limping.

"You can't leave," he forced through gritted teeth, slowly raising his head. "Nora, you need me."

I looked into his eyes, the beautiful blue was destroyed by the white pupils that appeared out of anger. They flickered towards my injuries and I pinched my lips together, tasting the blood on my bottom lip. I assumed he had been the one who mended my injuries. I felt the mate-pull; it was weak, but I still felt the urge to stay, like he wanted. I felt the urge to apologize for kneeing him - I felt the urge to crumble into his arms. Never, I thought, clenching my hands into fists. I'm not staying. He started rising to his feet and my heart pounded in my chest - shit. I searched the living room, desperate to escape in hope of returning to my family. Though, I only saw an opened closet, cluttered with board games and jackets, and the entrance into what appeared to be a kitchen. Cautiously, he took a step towards me and without a second thought, I snatched vase from the stand next to me.

I raised the vase. "Let me go."

"Don't throw that," he responded, taking another step towards me, menacingly. I tightened my grip on the vase and gritted my teeth together. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'll hurt you," I warned him, shaking my head. "I'll kill you."

"No, you won't," he countered, his shoulders stiffening. "If you kill me, you'll feel a tremendous amount of pain from my death. We're mates; now that we've found each other, we're stuck together." I winced at the particular word - this couldn't be happening. "Come on, don't fight this." He took another step towards me, his hands raised, innocently.

"I don't care," I told him, before throwing the vase. His eyes widened, his white pupils dilating, as a mixture of shock and disappointment came upon his face. I had surprised him - surprising your opponent was how you won. The vase twirled, flying through the air towards his chest; I anticipated the impact and the pain he felt afterwards. But, I was surprised when his hands swung down, catching the vase inches from his body. The swift movement was fast, so fast that it took a moment for me to realize what had happened. I should've known with his heightened senses, incredible strength, and unbelievable speed that he was capable of catching a simple vase thrown at him. Fuck.

He released the vase, allowing it to shatter into pieces against the floor by his feet. Gritting his teeth together, he started stalking towards me, betrayal swarming in his eyes. I whirled around and began limping towards the entrance, praying there was an exit. I heard his frustrated groan and heavy breathing from behind me as he followed me, slowly. "Don't you understand? You can't leave - if we're far from each other for too long, we'll grow sick, Nora."

"Just stop," I commanded, refusing to believe the situation. The large kitchen reeked of cleaning supplies and burnt cookies, both of which made me scrunch my nose up in disgust. There was a wooden table to my left, one that seated quite a few people, and the granite counters shined against the dangling lights. I noticed the pile of dishes in the sink and the wrappers on the tiled floor. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing him stalking behind me, his shoulders hunched forward. I recognized the look of desperation on his face; he needed to stay away from me. As much as I was angry about the situation, I didn't want to hurt him. Not only was the mate-pull affecting my instincts, but he mended my injuries when he could've left me for dead - not that he really had a choice. "Stop fucking following me."