Beg Me Back, Alpha | Read Free Preview
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Chapter 1
"Ouch." My first spoken word of the day and it's a word of pain, of course. Another beautiful morning starts by pulling my duvet away from my now-shivering legs, and plonking them onto a floor colder than a penguin's toenail.
There's a miniature alarm clock in the corner, I glance at it. Six a.m. It always reads six a.m. My internal alarm clock is as precise as a Swiss watch, every morning, my brain gives me a rude awakening, my eyes dawdle, and by the time they reluctantly open, my body is already in 'get-up' mode.
Lurching up from the floor mattress—don't let the term 'floor' fool you, it's my bed—I shuffle towards the bathroom, giving the judgmental mirror on the wall the cold shoulder. A splish-splash of freezing water to the face takes the sleepiness down a notch.
With my face now wide awake, it's time to unleash the icy shower water, which, after five minutes, turns into a stream of warm caresses. A quick lather-rinse-repeat with coconut shampoo and I step out, wrapping myself in a towel smaller than a postage stamp.
Dressed in a pair of black jeans ripped from excessive use, and an off-the-shoulder grey top, I'm ready to face the day. Armed with an artificial smile, I mutter my mantra, "Selina, it's a new day."
Climbing down from my attic bedroom, I join my best friend and fellow Omega, Susan, in our kitchen, or as I like to call it, the culinary utopia. "Morning, Su," I mumble, spotting her busy with the toaster.
"Morning, sleepyhead. Now, less sitting, more cooking. We've got a feeding frenzy at seven-thirty," Su replies, her hand perched sassily on her hip.
"I'm tired," I whine, but Su is no-nonsense, and complaining gets me nowhere. So, like a good little soldier, I march into battle against breakfast. After 30 minutes of a culinary skirmish, a feast fit for a hundred is ready—complete with all the trimmings.
Just as I'm about to sit down and sample our morning masterpiece, I hear the cavalry—footsteps and chatter outside. My cue to retreat. Back in the safety of the kitchen, Su hands me a bowl of porridge and fruit. It's not the hearty breakfast we've prepared, but it's all we're allowed.
As we sit at the corner table in the kitchen, eating in silence, I feel Su's curious gaze on me. She doesn't need to voice her question—I already know what it is. And she knows my answer. Yes.
"So...what's the latest in the saga?" Su asks, pushing her bowl aside to give me her full attention. Despite her 5-foot frame (which I, at 5'4'', never miss an opportunity to tease her about), she can be fiercely assertive.
"I'm not in the mood for storytime, Su," I reply, spearing a blueberry with my fork.
"Did he do something?" she prods, her tone softening.
'He' — Alpha Jacob. Why I'm his chosen target of derision remains a mystery to me. Evading his contemptuous gaze is challenging when you share the same Pack House.
"You're drifting away," Su's gentle laughter pulls me back to the present, my eyes rolling in response.
"Come on, you promised you wouldn't hide things from me," she coaxes, prompting yet another eye roll.
Picking up our bowls, I head towards the sink. "Just the usual Jacob antics," I reply nonchalantly, tossing the bowls into the sink for later cleanup.
"Show me. I'll grab the ice," she instructs, moving towards the refrigerator as if our routine is as commonplace as a morning coffee.
Reluctantly, I lift my sleeve, revealing the burn marks scarring my skin — Property of Alpha Jacob.
From the moment I stepped into the Blooddiamond Pack, Alpha Jacob has been a thorn in my side. Ironically, he was the one who accepted me into the pack. Several times, I've considered going rogue to escape his clutches, but like a relentless shadow, he's always there. Watching. Waiting.
Chapter 2
Alpha Jacob has a disturbing nightly routine. He visits my room at two a.m., the first time I naively followed, thinking he needed something. That's until we ended up in the basement—the soundproof basement. I screamed until my throat went raw as he inflicted pain beyond my worst nightmares, each time inching closer to the brink of death. Death, however, was an elusive solace.
I tried to escape once, but he found me, and Susan paid the price. What he did to her was unimaginable. He violated her while I watched, helpless. In my desperation, I pledged my eternal compliance if he'd just spare her. He did, but under one condition—our silence. Who would believe us even if we spoke up? No one.
Even now, my nights are punctuated by his brutal visits. The number 'twenty' etched in my mind, the amount of lashes I endure. The stinging burn of a cigarette on my skin. Beatings with no discernible reason.
I came to the Blooddiamond Pack at the tender age of twelve, orphaned by the rogues and hunters my parents died protecting me from. "Run!" my father's last words echoed as I fled. The pack's Alpha welcomed me, and I thought I'd found a savior. I believed he would shield me from the evils of the world—that's what Alphas do, right? Protect their own. But I was different—I hadn't shifted, and I never would.
"Promise me," my mother's words resonate, "you will never shift, never reveal your true self. There are people who would kill for that knowledge. Stay human." A promise I intended to keep.
When my thirteenth year came and went without the expected shift, I became an outcast. But the promise I'd made compelled me to bear the pain. One early morning at 4 a.m., I could no longer resist. I leaped out of the attic window, somehow surviving the fall, and ran until my legs gave way. Pain wracked my body as bones cracked and skin stretched, my agonized screams lost in the emptiness of the night. And when the shift finally happened, it was liberating. It was joy, a feeling I'd forgotten since my parents' demise.
That day, I walked back to the pack house, a sense of pride swelling in my chest after shifting back to my human form.
The aftermath of my shift had left a scorch mark on the ground, a tangible proof of my difference—and I reveled in it. Yet, it was a secret, one no one could ever uncover.
"Are you even listening to me? Did you even notice the ice pack I put on your arm?" Susan's voice pulled me out of my reverie, eliciting a gentle smile from me. She could never know my secret. Strangely, Alpha Jacob could delve into any pack member's thoughts, yet mine remained impenetrable to him. There were no protective walls around my mind, it was bare, and still, he was denied access.
"Sorry," I offered an apologetic mumble, earning an eyeroll from her.
"Let's go for a run, okay? We'll quickly clean this place up and then head out," she proposed, to which I readily nodded. Despite my inability to shift openly, the mere mention of shifting brought a thrill I savored.
One day, I'd shift when I had the strength to defend myself and Susan. On that day, I'd assert myself and prove to everyone that Selina Chance was not to be trifled with.
The striking of the clock's hands at two a.m. did nothing to quell my tense anticipation. Alpha Jacob hadn't shown up yet, and a wave of worry washed over me. And then, breaking the deafening silence, the door creaked open, causing me to jump.
Alpha Jacob, the 28-year-old leader of our pack, stood at the threshold. I watched as a smirk danced on his lips, taking delight in my silent vigil—not out of longing, but out of the desperate hope that he'd leave me in peace tonight. His physical attractiveness was undeniable, his blonde hair shimmering under the light I was instructed to leave on—a beacon signaling my dreaded wait. His blue eyes roved over my body slowly, lingering on places he had no right to. He often seemed on the verge of crossing a line he'd never crossed before, but something always held him back, a restraint for which I was grateful.
"Come on," he commanded, his voice breaking the silence. I obediently nodded, keeping my gaze firmly fixed on my hands—eye contact with an Alpha was a taboo.
With a heavy heart, I rose to my feet and trailed after him down the stairs. The house was shrouded in silence, as per the curfew; everyone was to be in their rooms by midnight. No one ever dared to defy the rule, the potential consequences too grave to risk.
Chapter 3
I treaded behind Alpha Jacob, descending towards the subterranean cells that housed the pack's captives. As we passed each cell, I felt the stares of the imprisoned, turning my gaze downward to avoid their scrutiny.
Reaching the last cell, Alpha Jacob unlatched the door, stepping aside to allow me entry. No guards flanked the cells; Alpha Jacob insisted on doing his own inspections at this ungodly hour. It was always me, and no one dared defy the Alpha.
Entering the cell, I moved towards the chains hanging from the wall as he shut the door behind us. I stood still as he secured the silver chains around my wrists, the cold metal a brutal reminder of my plight.
"Such an obedient little wolf...or are you a wolf?" he whispered, his nose tracing a path down to my neck. Instinctively, I hunched my shoulders, barring him from further exploration.
Alpha Jacob had no mate. His advances towards the women of our pack were well known; they eagerly threw themselves at him, and he reveled in their attention.
Thoughts of my own potential mate filled me with dread. Would he want a mate who was only half herself? A mate was an alien concept in my life, an undesired complication.
"Just be a quiet little girl, and this will be easy," he offered a cruel grin.
I nodded, fixing my gaze on the floor.
As he exited the cell to retrieve his preferred whip, a sigh escaped my lips. His departure signalled three minutes of reprieve, a small window of time during which I could connect with the others.
"Selina!" Hank's voice rang out, bringing a smile to my face.
"Hey guys," I responded, my eyes straining to see their figures in the dimly lit basement.
"Mummy asks how are you?" Hank, a five-year-old who was incarcerated with his mute mother after his father was executed for betraying the Alpha, shouted from his distant cell.
"Yeah, how are you?" Adam chimed in, his inquiry sending a blush across my cheeks. Adam, a handsome 23-year-old incarcerated for five years due to fratricide, always managed to lock eyes with me as I traversed the basement. His playful smirk and occasional winks always set my heart aflutter.
"I think you've made her speechless," Alice teased, her voice betraying the eyeroll I knew accompanied her words. Alice, Adam's sister, always had a knack for lightening the mood.
“Well-” Adam began, only to be cut off.
“I'm okay guys. Now shut up because he's coming back,” I warned hastily.
A low growl echoed in the stillness of the basement, unmistakably Hank’s. Despite only being five years old, Hank harbored an intense loathing for Alpha Jacob. His life had been stripped of typical childhood joys—no school, no friends, no freedom—instead, he was raised within the cold confines of these cells. The inmates here, about fifteen of us, were his only companions. Some were silent, their minds consumed by their wolves, while others managed to maintain some semblance of conversation.
The sound of the basement door creaking open echoed in the silence, my heart sinking at the familiar footfalls that followed.
“Well let's get back to work then,” he stated nonchalantly, sending a shiver down my spine.
This was it. The brutal onslaught. The pain. The blood. The piercing screams. The pleas for mercy.
As the first lash of Alpha Jacob’s whip connected with my back, I forced my mind to wander, to drift away from the excruciating pain. My breath hitched in my throat, but I clenched my teeth, trying to stifle any audible signs of my suffering.
What would a different life look like? A life without chains, without torture? My mind instinctively recoiled at such thoughts, convinced that hope was a dangerous luxury.
An uncontrollable scream tore from my lips as another lash found its mark, followed by another, and another, each one stronger and more brutal.
“Please...stop,” my voice broke with a sob, tears streaming down my face. I should have been accustomed to this by now, but the pain was just as raw and unbearable as the first time.
“What was that? More you say?” he chuckled darkly, gripping the handle of the whip tighter.
He unleashed another round of lashes, each one eliciting a scream from me that echoed around the cellar. Even though silver was harmless to me as a werewolf, when Alpha Jacob wielded it against me, it was a completely different story.
Tears streamed down my face, my body shuddering from the pain.
“I think that's enough,” he finally decided, dropping the whip.
Moving towards me, he undid the chains binding me. I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, clutching my stomach. My back was on fire, and my stomach was churning in agony.
“Show me your arm,” he commanded, and I slowly lifted my arm, allowing him to see his mark.
He hummed in satisfaction, his gaze lingering on the mark that read: Property of Alpha Jacob.
“Get yourself up and let's go,” he ordered.
Nodding weakly, I forced myself to stand, hunched over from the searing pain radiating from my back. I needed to rest.
“Thank you, Alpha Jacob,” I murmured, following the horrifying ritual that had become a part of this ordeal.
He nodded, seemingly pleased, and began leading the way out of the cell, leaving me to trail behind him.
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