Enslaved by the Alpha

Chapter Twelve: Losing Control

I stared at the curtains shielding me from the blazing sun, my gaze falling onto the empty side of the bed with racing thoughts circling my mind. Draven's scent was seeped in the blankets despite his missing presence and displeasing feelings I'm beginning to grow accustomed to formed deep within me.

I'm tired of only feeling safe in his embrace.

Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling with a frown. The remaining damp strands of my hair from last night's shower kept the pillow cool and a shiver ran through me at the same time my heart beat ferociously, extreme heat overtaking my face as well as the rest of my body.

My senses were engulfed with his scent. The feelings simply magnified the more he controlled my mind and I found myself getting lost them.

I closed my eyes, blowing a calm, soft breath out of my mouth to cool myself from the raging fire brewing inside me. The heat quickly surpassed the point I was familiar with and panic set in.

My hands extended out to my sides and I clutched onto the bedding, opening my eyes with ragged, nervous breaths that were straining to stay steady. The heat was unlike anything I've ever felt and a whimper left my mouth, my skin becoming clammy as sweat formed.

There, I knew something wasn't right.

Vampire's don't sweat. We're cold-blooded, rarely ever reaching a place where we're hot, let alone too hot.

My insides blazed and my skin seemed to trap the majority of the heat underneath, causing me to squirm in discomfort. My heart rate was fast, but not abnormally fast, it was far too slow to create this much heat.

"Draven," I mumbled helplessly, sucking in sharply through my teeth. "Help me."

My body tightened when my mind focused on the thought of him and a massive heatwave flushed through me. I kicked the blankets off and turned to my side, glancing down at my arms to see my skin glistening with sweat, a few beads dripping down onto the sheets from my hands.

Goddess, is this punishment for passing my curse on?

What is happening to me?

A cold hand lightly rested on my arm and I felt instant relief molding in the shape of his hand, turning my head to find Draven standing over me, his natural bright eyes multiple shades darker. He wore black dress pants with a black belt, tucked into them was a white button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He dressed professionally, yet all I could think about was touching the goods underneath.

"Draven," I whispered, hissing in disapproval after he retracted his cool touch and my skin burned hotter.

"I don't understand." He frowned in confusion. "You're in heat, Scarlett. That only happens if the marking isn't placed after so long. You're already marked."

"I don't care, just make it stop!" I begged.

He rounded the bed, hardly sitting down before I was already crawling onto his lap, my body trembling uncontrollably and the reasoning was well beyond my understanding—apparently his as well. All I knew was he currently had the touch that cured me and I needed it more than ever. Embarrassment was a foreign emotion in this moment, as I was too desperate to comprehend how this looks.

My hands traveled along his shirt collar and a cool, electric sensation sprouted in my palms under the contact. The cold rush in my veins relieved the dull, aching feel halfway up my wrists and I couldn't stop touching him, shuddering in pleasure.

"I need you," I breathed, twisting my body until I was straddling him. He sat tensely, leaning against the headboard with his hands placed firmly on my bare thighs, not daring to travel any further. He appeared to be in just as much discomfort.

"I can't control it," I whined.

"Scarlett, yes, you can. It'll pass," he said with strain, refusing to meet my desperate gaze by closing his eyes.

"I..." my words trailed off when I caught sight of his lips and the fire burned hotter, revoking any rational thought from my mind by infecting me with a deep want. He opened his eyes at my unfinished sentence and our gazes connected, immediate tingles interlacing with my spine and my restraint snapped.

His eyes darkened as if he somehow sensed my loss of control and our lips met halfway.

I moaned softly, hooking my arms around his neck while rolling my hips over the hard bulge in his dress pants. He tugged at the oversized blue t-shirt covering my naked body, gently rolling me onto my back and kicking his shiny dress shoes off.

"Just sign the treaty so we can do more together," I purred thoughtlessly against his lips and the mention of the treaty seemed to slap him across the face.

He reeled back to stare down at me, his eyebrows furrowed. "What?" He asked with a scoff, making me suddenly realize what just came out of my mouth.

"I-I don't know why I just said that," I choked out then looked at our positioning, more fear overtaking the lust I was feeling until it was completely diminished. I pushed him off with a frightened gasp. "I don't know why I'm seducing you!"

He eyed me carefully and I swallowed harshly, my eyes darting around us trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. It all felt like a dream, a haze, and the memory was already starting to fade which made it harder for me to believe it was real. I felt more than fine and there wasn't a droplet of sweat on me like there was moments prior.

"Scarlett, are you okay?" He asked slow and clear, his voice leaking with concern while his eyes examined my face.

"Y-Yeah, I'm okay," I muttered, staring at the bed with adrenaline coursing my veins.

That was weird.

"I came here to see if you'd be up to speaking with me about Valentino back at the pack house, but it doesn't seem that way. I'll leave you here to rest, then we can talk more whenever you're feeling more yourself," he explained, sounding quite skeptical.

Unlike the other Alpha's, he didn't want to force me into anything I didn't want. That much was clear to me, and it only brought on so much guilt for the things I say and do to him out of instinctual reaction.

Why can't I see he isn't them when it's all he's showing me?

"I'll go." The words left my mouth in a rush as if they were afraid others would beat them to it, stumping me.

I don't want to go.

Why did I say that?

He was taken aback by my response and frowned upon seeing mine. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded and placed my feet on the carpet, feeling the shirt fall lower over my thighs as the scrunched fabric straightened. His eyes never strayed from my figure as he stood slowly, hesitant to take my reaction as good, which brought back my frown.

Am I really so cold to him?

"If, at any point, you wish to leave, I'll bring you back. Your comfort is my top priority." He extended his hand to me and I looked down at it, suddenly frozen.

Nervousness twisted inside me but I forced myself to put my palm in his, ignoring the hypocritical feelings that keep jumping back and forth within me. One second, I practically need him touching every inch of me. The next, I get ridiculously anxious just standing too close.

He analyzed me for another second then turned to lead me out of the room. We reached the hall when I remembered my nude lower half and shrieked louder than intended. I ripped my hand from his hold and he whipped to face me with eyes wide in alarm, his already tense body going completely rigid hearing the horror in my tone. I squeezed the shirt to keep it down while glancing around the hall for any unnoticed spying eyes.

"Pants!" I answered his questioning, panicked eyes and watched them soften after realizing nothing was horribly wrong.

"What about them?"

"What about—" I cut myself off, releasing a half-assed growl in utter disbelief. "Draven! I am exposed!"

"Except you're not?" He raised a brow in confusion.

I scoffed forcefully with the impression he was just being a p*****t to f**k with me, but his expression made me come to a gradual conclusion that he did not mean it with mischievous implication and was truly oblivious to the issue.

Right. How could I forget who I was talking to?

"Forget it, let's just go." I took his hand and pulled him along.

It's clear werewolves have no modesty like we do. I'm not sure I'll ever adjust to their appalling ways.