THE PROTECTED ALPHA

Chapter 6

After finishing dinner, I went back upstairs to my room. The soft hum of my phone screen lit the dim space as I scrolled through aimlessly, lost in whatever held my attention. The day had been uneventful, or so I thought, until I felt a sharp twinge in my back.

“Ouch,” I winced, arching slightly in discomfort.

I pressed a hand against the sore spot, confused. "That's weird," I murmured to myself. Brushing it off as nothing, I returned my focus to the screen, determined to ignore the ache.

Minutes passed, and just as I began to settle back into the rhythm of distraction, the pain returned—this time sharper, deeper, and relentless. A strangled groan escaped my lips as I bit down hard to stifle a scream. My fingers curled around the edge of my bed, knuckles white with effort, but the pain refused to relent.

I barely had a moment to catch my breath before another wave hit—this one so excruciating it tore the control from me. A blood-curdling scream ripped from my throat, filling the room.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

My vision blurred, and I clutched at my sides, trembling. My chest heaved as I tried to breathe through the agony, but the room spun like a carousel. Then, through the haze, I saw him—my dad rushing in, his face pale with panic. His arms scooped me up as if I weighed nothing. His lips moved frantically, saying something I couldn’t hear over the deafening thud of my own heartbeat.

The last thing I saw was his face, etched with fear, before the darkness swallowed me whole.

RAYMOND'S P.O.V.

I sprinted to Emily’s room as her piercing screams echoed through the house. My heart pounded in my chest, dread tightening its grip on me. I found her crumpled on the floor, clutching her stomach, her face twisted in agony.

“Emily! Emily, stay with me!” I called out, kneeling beside her.

But it was like she couldn’t hear me. Her screams subsided as her body went limp, her eyes fluttering shut. The pain etched on her face was unbearable to see. My hands trembled as I lifted her off the floor and placed her on her bed. A wave of panic surged through me, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years—not since that day eleven years ago.

I super-sped to my room, grabbing my phone off the bed. My fingers fumbled as I dialed Stephan’s number. It rang longer than I could tolerate before he finally picked up.

“Why didn’t you pick up sooner?” I snapped, my voice sharp with worry.

“I was... Well, it doesn’t matter. What’s wrong?”

“Emily fainted, and I need you here now,” I said, my voice cracking with urgency.

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know! Why do you think I called you?” I shot back, pacing the room.

Then I remembered what I’d seen earlier. “Wait. When I carried her, there were these... purple marks on her stomach.”

“Purple marks?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious. “Explain.”

I described them as best I could, every detail burned into my memory. There was a pause on his end before he muttered, “Oh, shit.”

I heard him clearly, thanks to my heightened hearing.

“What is it? What’s happening to her?”

“Put her in cold water. I’m on my way,” he said, avoiding my question.

“You have five minutes,” I warned before hanging up.

I rushed back to Emily’s room, scooped her up, and carried her to the bathroom. Turning on the tap, I filled the tub with cold water, carefully lowering her in. Her body seemed to relax slightly, the tension easing from her face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

The doorbell rang. I raced downstairs and opened the door to find Stephan standing there.

“Did you do what I told you to?” he asked, stepping inside.

“Yes,” I replied curtly.

“Good. Where is she?”

I led him upstairs to Emily’s bathroom. We stood by her for what felt like hours before Stephan finally said it was okay to take her out. Gently, I carried her back to her bed and laid her down. Stephan approached, lifting her shirt to examine the marks on her stomach.

He pulled out an ointment from his bag and began applying it carefully. I turned her over to her stomach, raising her shirt again—and my breath caught. Her back was covered with even more of those purplish marks. My heart ached as I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself to stay calm.

Once Stephan was done, I asked him to wait downstairs. I cleaned Emily’s body, changed her clothes, and replaced the damp bedsheets and blanket. I didn’t want her to wake up uncomfortable.

When I joined Stephan in the living room, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“What was that?” I demanded, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

Stephan sighed, leaning back on the couch. “Let’s just say... her mate is messing around.”

His words stopped me in my tracks. “What do you mean, her mate is messing around? I thought you said she wouldn’t have a mate!”

“I said she might not have a mate,” he corrected, shrugging.

“So what? Even if she has a mate, how does that explain this?”

He hesitated before answering. “When your mate messes around, they’re enjoying themselves... but the other one feels the pain.”

My jaw clenched as realization dawned. “You’re telling me her mate is the one causing this?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted, nodding.

Rage surged through me. “I’ll kill him,” I growled, feeling my eyes begin to change color.

“Hey, Ray, calm down,” Stephan said quickly. “You don’t want Emily waking up and seeing you like that. She’ll freak out.”

I glared at him, but his words struck a chord. Slowly, I forced myself to breathe, letting the anger subside.

“I’m hungry,” Stephan announced suddenly, breaking the tension.

“Go home and eat,” I snapped. “I don’t have anything for you here.”

“I see how it is. You’re politely kicking me out. Fine. Goodbye,” he said, smirking as he walked out the door.

I went back upstairs to check on Emily. She was sleeping peacefully now, her face relaxed. I couldn’t help but think of Claire. Sighing, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jade’s number. It rang for a few moments before she picked up.

“Good evening, Uncle,” she greeted.

“Hm,” I grunted. “How are you?”

“I’m good. But I know you didn’t call to ask about me.”

“You’re right. I need you to come and stay with Emily.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Something happened, and I don’t want her to be alone anymore. I can’t always be here.”

“Understood. I’ll be there next week,” she promised.

“Good.”

“Before I forget,” she added, “some people were asking about you and Emily in New Fork.”

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, find out,” I instructed, ending the call.

I glanced at Emily one more time before sinking into a chair by her bed. Watching her peaceful face, I closed my eyes, letting exhaustion take over.

When I woke up, it felt as if every ounce of strength had been drained from my body. My limbs were heavy, my head foggy. Blinking against the soft light streaming through the curtains, I sat up in bed, my gaze drifting across the room. That’s when I saw him—Dad, slumped on the couch with his eyes closed, his head resting against the wall.

Emily's P.O.V

"Dad," I croaked, my voice weak but enough to stir him.

His eyes snapped open instantly, and in the next second, he was at my bedside. His expression was a mix of worry and relief.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with concern as he searched my face for any sign of distress.

"I'm fine, Dad," I reassured him, though my voice didn’t carry much conviction.

He frowned, unconvinced. "Are you sure? You don’t feel uncomfortable anywhere? I can call Stephan back if you need him."

“Doctor Stephan was here?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone gentle but serious.

I swallowed, suddenly aware of the dryness in my throat. It felt like sandpaper. “I need water,” I whispered.

Without hesitation, Dad moved to the small table near the bed. He poured water into a cup, his hands steady despite the tension in his shoulders. He handed it to me, and I took it gratefully, gulping down the cool liquid.

"Thank you," I said, managing a small smile as I handed the empty cup back to him.

He smiled faintly, setting the cup back on the table. “Let me make you some breakfast,” he said, his voice soft but purposeful, as though cooking would fix everything.

As he turned toward the door, I felt a flicker of warmth amidst the weariness. Whatever had happened, at least I wasn’t alone.