The Ash Witch and the Alpha

The room was beautiful, cream carpets that her feet sunk into with each step, navy blue drapes that could remove any sunlight or be drawn to the side to let the morning glow in, a king sized bed that had the softest sheets she’d ever felt. It would have been the most beautiful room she had ever stayed in, had she been there by choice. Excluding the time she had spent floating in status, whether from the drugs or the magic, she wasn’t sure, it had been seventeen days. Diana had tried to leave, but a barrier had been erected, tried to use her magic but it was blocked, walled off from her reach, she had even tried to fight her way out, nothing worked. “Hello, mate.” The voice filled her with disdain, she hated him, hated everything he had done to her, the life he had taken from her. Diana lived a solitary life by choice, at the border of wolf territory and unclaimed human lands, in a small house that was perfect for just her. She made low level potions, something that would fly under the radar: lotions that slowed aging just a touch, perfumes that increased the natural human pheremones, leading to better s*x lives, teas that increased the immune system. She spent every weekend on the road, traveling to craft fairs and events, selling her wares and making short-term friends. It was always a solace to come home, to restock and recharge her social batteries, feeling safe behind her wards of protection. It was when she was finding ingredients that he found her, pounced on her, leaving her with a b****y gash on the back of her head. When Diana woke up, it was in this room, and she had not left since. “Tristan.” She spat his name out, a poison in her mouth. Recoiling from his touch as he stroked her hair, bringing a stray, raven lock to his nose and inhaling deeply. Diana tried not to breathe, she knew what effect it had on her and didn’t want him noticing. “Where’s dinner?” He visited at least twice a day, always to bring her food. She had been stubborn at first but hunger consumed her and worst of all, he knew her favorite foods. It was a violation, the things he knew about her that she had never told him. His eyes grew dark when she pulled away from him, hands reaching out to hold her that she dodged. “I’ll feed you, in a moment. I want to talk.” Tristan sounded pained, his face softening in a way that hurt her physically. She hated this, the way he could make her feel pity for him, the way when her thoughts wandered they always drifted to him. The had just returned from training, she could tell by the smell of his sweat, which made her head swim with mixed emotions. Diana didn’t believe in mate bonds, she was convinced he had a witch of his own on his side, who made her feel this way, how else could she feel this longing? “Talk about what?” Diana snapped, pulling her mind out of the gutter. She wouldn’t think about running her tongue along his neck, of what he looked like without his shirt, whether he was a boxer or a briefs kind of guy. “The scent of your arousal in the air.” He growled, fingers digging into her arms, pinning her to the wall in an instant. His nose was scrapping the crown of her hair, tickling her scalp with each inhale. She squirmed in his grip, trying to ignore the heat building in her core. “I was thinking of my ex-boyfriend.” She lied, wincing at the bruises forming from his grip. It had been this way for the past week, he would come to feed her and she would get horny, hate herself for being attracted to her captor and act out, he would throw her food at her and leave, wash, rinse, repeat. “He didn’t force me into anything and let me leave the room when I wanted to.” Diana tried to be vicious, but the feeling of his warm body pressed against hers was a distraction. “No, you weren’t.” Tristan growled, grinding his hips against hers, “You want me.” His patience was thinning and they both knew it. Diana snarled at him, leaning her head back and spitting in his face, enjoying his shocked look but almost regretting that it had worked and he let her go, allowing her to crumble on the ground. “I f*****g hate you!” She couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the way he winced, the pain in his eyes glistening. “Let. Me. Go!” She ground out. “Not until you’re marked.” Tristan stated, as if she were a child. “Not until you’re mine, body and soul.” A fresh wave of arousal flooded her when presented with an Alpha’s aura and he smirked down at her, half expecting her to bear her neck there and then. “f**k off.” She murmured, bringing her knees to her chin, looking as though she were about to cry. He softened, only slightly, opening the door and grabbing a plate from a waiting omega. He put it down in front of her and left without another word. Diana almost cried at the sight of it, her ultimate comfort food: pasta with garlic bread. She wept with each bite, thinking only of how she wanted to go home.