Too Beautiful for the Alpha

Chapter 9

The mate bond is his name tattooed on my heart, never to come off, to be replaced or ignored. It's his

face and body constantly floating through my mind because I ache for him, not able to control my

wandering thoughts. The mate bond is a curse cast upon me the moment I saw him, and it was cast

upon him, as well. Theodore's words linger in my head as he drops me off at the house—my excuse

being pressed into me—and I can't help but hope. He may act like he doesn't care for you, but he can't

control it.

Alpha Grant can't control the mate bond, like me. He may be an Alpha, but he is no God. Even if he

acts like he doesn't think once about me or care how I am doing, he can't control it, he can't help it. He

must think about me just as I think about him. It's in the bond, my name is tattooed on his heart

whether he likes it or not. But this is where I could get my hopes up.

I make my way up the porch steps and through the door, not expecting even a 'welcome home', but I

am wrong. When I have the door open hardy an inch, I smell him, that intoxicating cologne that seeps

into my skin and toys with my emotions. I pause, but I know it is too late to run off, he's there, he's seen

the door open, he knows I'm on the other side. Before I can force myself to push the door open the rest

of the way, jumping off the bridge, a force swings it open, almost taking me with it. He's impatient.

I peer up and find him standing in front of me like a statue of a king, his hypnotic eyes staring down at

me like a roadblock on his pathway to happiness. I shrink under his gaze, already feeling my lack of

speech coming on again.

"Where did you go?" He asks, his voice firm and unforgiving.

I look up at him with big eyes, gazing like a deer in headlights, waiting to be hit. "I-I. . ." Speak, Rae.

Speak! "I was on the, uh, other side of the pack."

He must think that I think he's stupid because he gives me a look that says 'I know you're lying.' The

mate bond inside of me tugs and my throat runs dry. "I'll ask again," Alpha Grant says, "where were

you today?"

I peer down, confused, and before I can stop myself the words are spilling out, "Why ask when you

don't really care to know?" And while I'm brave I blurt, "I want to go home." He says nothing before

moving back, letting me enter, but I am not sure if he truly wants me to. I walk inside, hesitant, and I

turn to face him again. "I'm dying here, and the worst part is that you know I am and you're letting me."

A breath escapes him. "You're dramatic."

I suck in a breath. "You're cruel. So cruel. I went across the borders, that's where I was all day." And

with that, I head for the stairs and storm to my bedroom like a child. Once inside, I slam the door and

fall back against it, fighting the urge to pound my fists against it. Needing an escape, I go to grab my

iPod off of the bedside table, only it isn't there, then I turn to the shelf, and my books are gone. I panic

and see that the phone I took from the living room is missing as well.

I run out of my room into the hall, my eyes shooting down the stairs to see him standing at the bottom

with his arms crossed. "What did you do," I ask carefully.

"Don't ever go near the borders again," he says before walking off towards the kitchen.

I fly down the steps yelling, "What did you do with my things! What did you do!" I grab his arm, causing

him to turn back to me, and if I wasn't in a rage of fury, I would gush about the sensations the

connection gave. "You can't take my stuff. Give me my stuff."

He pulls away from my weak hold. "Who do you think you are?"

I have nothing left to lose. "I am nothing. You've made me nothing, I get it, okay? But the music and my

books, my mom, it's all I have."

"It looks like you have nothing, then."

I clench my jaw and fight back the tears. People with nothing are dangerous. They are willing to go the

extra mile. I move past him into the kitchen to find Gail washing vegetables, she smiles at me and says

'hello, Rae' but I am on a mission. I can feel his eyes on me as I slide open drawers, then I take out the

biggest knife I see. Gail stops. "Rae, what are you doing with that. Here, give me that before you hurt

yourself." But his eyes stay fixated on me.

"Give me my things," I say calmly, but he only looks amused.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, playing along. "Kill me?"

A short laugh escapes me. "No," then I lift the knife to my neck, "now give me my things."

"Rae," Gail shouts, "put that down!"

Alpha Grant looks amused. "You're going to kill yourself over some books?"

If I have one thing left, it's this curse of a bond, so I might as well prove to him that he can't ignore it. So

I press the blade against my skin. "Maybe."

He sighs, so I pull it across my skin a tad, the skin of my neck tugging with it. "Gail, take it from her."

Gail moves towards me, but I step back, pressing harder. "If you want me to stop, then you'll have to

take it yourself." She pauses and looks at him, and he doesn't look amused any longer. I press harder.

"This is ridiculous. Put down the knife."

"Yes," Gail joins him, "put down the knife, dear."

I repeat, "If you want me to stop, then you'll have to take it yourself."

Alpha Grant strides towards me and grips the knife, his fingers brushing against my neck. He takes it

from me and sets it down beside me on the counter, and as he's leaned forward he says, "you're not

getting a thing back."

I watch him intensely as he glances to Gail then turns to the door. I stare at his back before he Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

vanishes into the house, swallowed by its hidden hallways and shelved-off rooms. Gail turns to me.

"Now what was that about! Don't you do that again!"

"Sorry," I say, a fire ignited inside of me, feeding off of his reaction. As much as he wants to feel nothing

for me, he can't help it, I know that now. I know that.

Later in the night, I find myself sitting on the stairs at exactly the time Alpha Grant is in his bedroom—

hidden away over a boundary I don't dare to cross—and exactly the time she comes for her over-night

visit. I believe that he thinks I've lost my mind, so I might as well lose it.

I thought about grabbing a bottle from the odd cabinet to amuse myself while I wait, but I thought it best

if I'm not drunk while this happens. I need her to be afraid of me and no one is afraid of a crying loser.

When I hear the front door open, I straighten up. As expected, she comes sneaking across the foyer

and towards the stairs. When she appears in front of me, I suck in a breath and puff up my chest, ready

to wave my arms around as if I'm scaring off a bear. She stops abruptly and stares down at me, waiting

for my response. "Leave," I say strongly, "go home."

An eyebrow raises on her beautiful face.

I stand up. "Your brother, Theodore, wants you to stop coming here at night," partly him and mostly me,

"so you better go home. People with nothing are dangerous." I smile sweetly.

She looks uncomfortable, and she speaks. "Only Alpha Grant can tell me what to do." Her voice is soft,

soothing almost, like a baby animal—too young to know what's good, like me.

"Alpha Grant is my Mate. Now go."

Her face drops, her once flawless features now overcast by disappointment. She looks down, saying

nothing, and she turns back to the door, and just before it closes I swear that I hear a quiet sob. I

swallow, locking the door. Theodore said she would be hurt, welcome to the party.

My eyes peer up to the stairs, paranoid that Alpha Grant may be watching me, but there is no one

there. Was that too easy? She'll approach him about it, I know that. I have nothing to lose. I have

nothing to lose. I have nothing to lose.

In my bedroom, I sit down, frustrated that I can't listen to music. The shelf is empty but I see something

wonderful, the diary, it's still there. He didn't take it. I grab it, feeling it with my fingers to make sure it is

real, flipping through pages fast enough to fan myself. Her words are there, months of entries. My

entertainment for now. I change my clothes first, getting comfortable, not able to find my purple pajama

shirt from my mother, only the bottoms.

Once in bed, I turn to the next entry.

September 26th, 1991

I tried to interest him today. I wore my nice pajamas and walked out of the bathroom when I heard him

come into the bedroom, making sure he saw all of me. I smiled, he didn't. What did I expect? I looked

nice, I looked lovable, but of course, he didn't want to love me. He didn't say a word, not one. Not even

goodnight.

I am in the bathroom now with the door locked, writing this because I cannot sleep. I don't know what to

do. I could hardly sleep much last night either. I help the maids cook, but I hardly feel like eating. I feel

empty inside. The only thing I have to look forward to is my visit back home in two weeks. I'll see my

mother and father, even little John.

I found out that Alpha Grant's first name is James. One of the maids told me and it made me feel

better. I like knowing things about him, and I'm sure he would have never told me himself. I was mated

to a man whose first name I didn't know. It sounds sad when I read it back. I feel sad. I speak with my

mother over the phone and at first, I was telling her about his distancing, but now I can't help but tell

her things are getting better. She's happy for me. It doesn't make me feel better, though. It's all lies. I

have resorted to lying.

I'll go and lay in bed again. The only time I can touch him is when he's asleep, and I'll stroke his cheek

or press my hand to his if I can. I'm always scared that he'll wake, but I need a connection, I need

something.