The Alpha and his Vampire Mate

ELYNDRA’s Pov The sound of laughter is loud and sharp. It is not laughter that makes people feel better. It is dark, mean, and strange. "Go on!" one of them yells, and the words hit my skin. "What's wrong? Are you too scared? Another person laughed at him, his voice thick with laughter. "You're supposed to be the boss's lady. You can't handle it?" Too weak?" I am stuck between Malrik and his men. A wolf is bleeding on the ground, and they are circling it. I don't know who he is. I don't even think they care who he is. It's just another sick game for them. I always tried to stay away from this part of Malrik. I told myself I could focus on the good things, that maybe the boy I used to care about was still buried under all that mean behavior. But today, there's no way out. They want me to join in. I see the body on the floor, and my stomach turns. The blood smells like sweat and smoke. My chest feels tight. “Pull the trigger,” Malrik says. His voice is flat, stripped of anything human. His murky eyes catch mine as he holds out the gun. "I... I don't think this is what you told me," I say quietly. My voice shakes, but I make it stay steady. "Not even for me, little pet?" He tilts his head and acts like he's being kind, and his men cheer me on like it's all a show. I look at the gun. I'm trying to remember how I got here, and my mind is racing. I'm not sure when I allowed this relationship to consume me. I was not the kind of girl to weep over boys or to remain awake all night worrying about errors I had committed. I used to be carefree. I used to laugh a lot, have crushes on good-looking Alphas at school, and do whatever I wanted. I can't sleep at night now. Now I dream about his voice, his hands, and how mean he was. "Please, Malrik, let's just forget this," I say, trying to smile and wrapping my arms around his neck as if to remind him of something good. I can smell him, I can smell drugs, smoke, and the lingering scent of something warm that is no longer present. I look at his face and try to find the boy I thought I loved. Where did he go? "Forget?" His lips curl into a mean smile. "Do you remember what he called you? Please let me remind you, pet. You don't want to be the odd one out, do you? The stranger. The one that doesn't fit in. "The freak." The word cuts into me. Freak. My heart is racing in my chest. I look down at the wolf with blood on it again. His breathing is shallow and ragged. I am not a weirdo. My name is Elyndra Caelora, and my parents are Alaric and Seliora Caelora. She is the daughter of a former Alpha of the Crimsonfang Clan. Yes, I was born in a way that went against nature, Half Vampire , Half Wolf but I lived. I should be dead, but I'm not. Some years back when my mom and Dad was travelling , they were attacked by a vampire and my mom was r***d by one of them , so that was how i was born since then have being living this life and everyone knows about it and having being living like this for years now. "Freak. "Freak." Malrik's men start to chant, and their voices get louder. There is a fire in my chest. My heart races as I get frustrated, heated, and bitter. Malrik grins, delighted that he has hit the wound I hate the most. Before I think, my body moves. I pull the gun out of his hand, and my heart races as I raise it. The memories come flooding back. The whispers when I was a kid. The kids, who called me names but never touched me, did so out of fear for my dad. They called me Freak back then, and it stuck with me. "Do it." Malrik's voice breaks through my thoughts. He knows that word makes me enraged. He knows it and still uses it. I did that. I told him things I didn't want him to know. "Fine," I say with a hiss. I lift the gun and act like I'm aiming at the wolf on the ground. My hand is shaking. "Baby, shoot him," Malrik whispers behind me, and his tone is warning. The wolf whines. His body shakes as he tries to breathe. I can't do it. The thought of turning and shooting Malrik instead makes me want to do it. I put the gun down. The laughter stops. The room is filled with silence that weighs down heavily. "I'm not going—" Something hits my back hard. The gun goes off. The wolf moves for a second and then stops. The sound keeps coming back to me. "No!" I scream and drop the gun. I kneel down next to him. I push my hands against his side, but I already know. There is no pulse. His body doesn't change back into a person. The bullets they used were too fast and deadly. "No, no, no," I say softly, my voice breaking. The laughter starts up again. It is cruel and mocks me. I lift my head, and tears sting my eyes. "Why, Malrik!" I yell. The room goes quiet. Malrik's eyes are cold and dangerous as they lock on me. His silence is worse than what he says, my stomach drops. He hates it when people don't respect him. He whispers, "You don't talk to me like that." His voice gives me the creeps. He walks over with heavy steps, he grabs the dead wolf by the fur, lifts it up like it's nothing, and throws it on top of me. The weight is too much for my legs, and the blood is soaking through my clothes. "Do you feel bad for him? Then look after him! His voice is as sharp as glass. I shove the body, my breath coming in short bursts. "This isn't a joke!" "I'm done with you and your sick games," I yell, my anger boiling over. His eyes get darker. He pulls on my hair and pulls my head back. "We're not done until I say so." His words are poison. "You don't own me, and I'm not your pet!" I look at him angrily. He laughs in a loud and mean way. His men join in, but their eyes are hungry, and they want to know what he will do. I know him well enough to know that this laugh isn't real. It is anger in disguise. "I said I'm done," I said. He holds on tighter. With his other hand, he roughly and violently smears the blood of the dead wolf across my face. He then shoves me hard, and I fall to the ground. "I think it's time I show you who you really belong to," he says with a snarl. His hand comes down on my face, and the world tilts. Everything goes black. I sit up in bed, gasping, sweat sticks to me and makes my sheets wet. My chest rises and falls as I look around, my bedroom, my bed. I pull myself to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and hold on to the sink until my knuckles hurt. A year has passed since I left. A year has passed since I thought I was free. A message came two nights ago. A video of that night. I can hear his voice, remember my screams, and see the gun. And below it: Please keep in mind that I know what you did. The memory makes my stomach ache. I turn off the water and go back to bed, breathing hard. I look at the clock. Five o'clock in the morning. I should go to sleep, but the buzzing in my head won't let me. The phone makes a sound. The screen turns on. My hands shake as I unlock it. The message is short. Can't sleep? Then I'll give you something to think about. Come back to me, or your family will see the videos. Do you want them to see what their daughter really is? I can't breathe. My parents are with me, my stomach hurts. I cover my mouth because the sickness is crawling up my throat. Another buzz. Another note. I read it, and it made me shiver. I see that you still sleep in your underwear. My eyes dart to the window, the curtains move a little, the night looks back at me.