Trapped in the Den of Alphas

Chapter 10

Eden's POV

I wriggle my toes again, watching them through the haze of steam that clouds the bathtub. The hot water goes a long way to soothe the aches and pains of the day. I look around at the worn but grand space, my eyes scanning the marble sink area and moving up over the ornate gold mirror hanging directly above it. Again, it’s not my style, but it is pretty in a way. The dark maroon-colored walls against the contrasting white marble give the place a rather grand feel. The whole bathroom is a damn sight better than the communal one. Not to mention a LOT cleaner. Don’t get me wrong, though, despite the stray suspect hairs and stains, I would have taken my chances downstairs. There’s something uneasy about being here, about being in his space, knowing he could show up at any second. The intrusive thought pretty much tramples my peaceful moment, and I decide that I need to get out of here sooner rather than later.

I stand up carefully, allowing the water to cascade from my body down into the spacious tub. I glance at the door, listening for any signs of life. The lack of a lock on the door makes it impossible for me not to be on my guard the whole time. I lean over and snatch a cloth towel from the gold rail on the wall, wrapping it around my body while giving it a firm rub down at the same time.

Tiptoeing to the door, I press my ear against the wood for a few moments to listen intently. I determine that the coast is clear and throw the door open into the fiery warmth of the bedroom. The sight of the brown wooden box immediately grabs my attention, and I make my way toward it, opening it to peer inside at its contents. “You have got to be kidding me,” I mumble, pulling out a faded, loose black shirt. One not unlike the shirt that he was wearing this evening.

I glance around the room before bringing it to my nose for a sniff. It smells like him. That enticing masculine scent of musk, forest and firewood all rolled into one.

I hold the enormous shirt up to examine it critically. Sure, I didn’t expect them to have women’s clothing, but this won’t work. Out of all the men who live here in this house, at least half of them are a lot smaller than Conall. I roll my eyes as I shake my head. It’s not ideal, but I refuse to spend another moment naked in his room. I pull the massive shirt over my head and let it fall over my body, unraveling the cloth towel underneath to place it on the bed. I look down to see the hem floating around my thighs.

Fantastic.

I pull the other items out of the box to take a closer look. A few shirts for daytime wear, a white shirt that could do for sleeping in and two pairs of enormous pants.

What the hell am I supposed to do with these?!

I poke my legs inside and hold them up by the waist as I look around the room for something that might help. I then spy the ropes tied around each corner of the four-poster bed holding the heavy, drawn-back curtains in place. I unravel one of the ropes, letting the curtain drape freely at one corner of the bed. I’m sure he will be pissed, but I couldn’t care less right now. I loop the rope around my waist and tie it tightly to secure the loose pants in place. I’ll have to make it work. I have no other option. There is no way that my torn dress can handle another day of chores in this hellhole.

I gather the remaining clothes in a bundle and stick them in the box, heading down the dark, narrow hallway back to my room. The eerie silence sends a curious feeling running through me.

Where are they? What are they up to now?

All day, the house was filled with their noisy banter and loud conversations that echoed through every corner of the creaky old house. There’s no way they have all gone to bed at this hour. Maybe they have gone hunting or changed into one of those bloodthirsty beasts I heard many stories about as a child. I decide not to think too much about the terrifying prospect. Instead, I open the door to my little bedroom and place the wooden box on the floor.

The moonlight pours in from the window in the corner, and the stars twinkle brightly in the obsidian-colored sky. I can’t help it when my mind wanders reluctantly to my parents. By now, they are sure to know that something is seriously wrong. Although I am a fully grown woman, they know that I’d never take off without telling them where I was going first. I can just imagine how frantic with worry they must be right now, and I desperately wish there was some way for them to know that I’m still alive. That I’m out here waiting for the right opportunity to get back to them. The depressing thought brings a painful headache, and I walk over to the lumpy bed to sit on the edge.

Suddenly, the sound of male voices grabs my attention.

What the hell are they doing out there?

I rush over to the window eagerly, my eyes widening at the sight below.

All of them are outside in the clearing at the front of the house, where there is a bonfire of some sort blazing and flickering into the night air. The sounds of heightened laughter and slurred voices immediately indicate that they have been drinking. Pretty heavily, by the sounds of things. I watch as some sit around on large logs next to the fire while others stand in smaller groups talking. I scan the scene slowly until my eyes settle on him.

Conall.

Unlike the others, he wears the same serious expression as usual, his arms folded over his chest as he stands in deep conversation with his second-in-command, Zeke.

It’s then that they all begin to make a move, congregating in a large semi-circle around the base of a tall tree. My view becomes semi-blocked by the thick leafy branches, but I strain my neck to see a shirtless Mateo walking out from the crowd toward the center of the circle.

My mouth drops open in shock as I watch his hands being bound together with rope before he is shoved down firmly onto his knees. The noise from the men dies down, and silence takes over as one of them steps forward, holding a long, black whip.

My eyes widen again as the whip is tossed back into the darkness, and a gasp leaves my lips as it comes down, slicing through the air to lash against Mateo’s smooth back. He grunts in agony, his body jolting forward, his pain made known by the moonlight shining down upon his scrunched-up face.

What the f**k?!