Chapter 4: Alexander's Sister

Seraphina

I paced my room while the first light of morning cut through the curtains. Alexander hadn't been back since he stormed out. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, but it pulled at me until I found myself sneaking toward the top floor.

His door was ajar. I pushed it open just enough to see him. He was sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, his face turned to the side. The sheet was low on his hips, leaving the heavy ink of his tattoos exposed against his skin. He looked peaceful. Almost beautiful.

Xandriel was a beast who needed sex to stay sane. I figured Alexander was the same. Alphas always had a string of women waiting for them. I stood there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, wondering if I could use his trust to find a way out of this gilded cage.

I backed away and closed the door softly. I’d rather starve than let myself feel anything for him. He was just another man who thought he owned me.

The mansion was deathly quiet. At Xandriel's, the nights were loud with drinking and smoke. Here, everything felt too clean. Too still. I turned a corner in the hallway, my mind miles away, when a hand suddenly shot out of the shadows.

"You smell like a rogue."

A man slammed me against the wall. The back of my head hit the wood with a crack that made my vision swim.

"Alpha Alexander has me here," I gasped, trying to find my footing. I wouldn't call myself a mate. Not to this stranger.

"Then why are you wandering?" He didn't wait for an answer. He fist my hair and jerked my head back, shoving me forward. "Who let you out of the holes?"

"I let myself out!" I bit back. If he killed me, at least the struggle would be over.

He snarled and shoved me into a dark bedroom. I stumbled, falling hard onto a bed I didn't recognize. Before I could scramble up, he was on top of me. His hand crushed my throat, pinning me into the mattress. I clawed at his wrists, my lungs burning for air.

"No! Stop! Please!" I managed to scream, my nails catching the skin of his face.

"Stay still!" he yelled. He pinned my wrists over my head. He was heavy, his breath smelling of stale coffee. "You’re too pretty for a cell. You could be mine if you played right."

"Stop touching me!"

His hand fumbled with the button of my pants. I tried to bring my knees up, to kick him where it hurt, but he wedged his body between my legs, locking me down. I screamed again, a raw, piercing sound that felt like it was tearing my throat.

"You aren't in charge here, girl," he spat.

He slapped his palm over my mouth to stifle my cries. Tears leaked out, hot and fast, soaking into his skin. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. I waited for the weight of another man to break what was left of me.

The door didn't just open. It exploded.

The weight was gone instantly. I heard a roar that sounded like a building collapsing. I sat up, shaking, pulling my clothes back together as I watched Alexander. He had the man—Percival—by the throat, pinning him so high against the wall his toes barely touched the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Alexander’s voice was a lethal vibration.

"She... she's just a woman!" Percival wheezed, his face turning a dark shade of blue. "She’s a prisoner, Alpha!"

"She is my mate, you dumbass!"

Alexander didn't just hit him. He broke him. He threw a punch that sounded like snapping wood, then tossed Percival to the floor like a piece of trash. When Alexander turned to me, the red vanished from his eyes. He looked horrified.

"I—I'm sorry," I choked out, the words barely a whisper.

"Shh..."

He didn't ask. He just gathered me up in his arms, pulling me tight against his chest. I didn't fight him this time. I was too cold, too tired. He carried me down the hall, his heart thundering against my ear.

"Why didn't you tell him?" he asked, his voice thick with a mix of fury and pain. "He should have known who you were."

"Because I am not your mate!" I shouted. The trauma turned into anger the second I felt safe.

Alexander stopped and set me on my feet. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped as he put his hands on his hips.

"Yes, you fucking are!" he barked. "I won't force my mark on you, Seraphina, but my people will know who you are to me. Percival is finished. I promise you that."

"You act like I asked for this," I cried, the frustration finally boiling over. "I don’t want any of you! I don't want this life!"

Alexander turned and punched the wall beside my head, his fist buried deep in the drywall. Dust settled on my hair.

"Listen to me," I said, my voice trembling. "You're a handsome man, Alpha. Go find a girl who wants you. I don't care who you sleep with. Just leave me alone. I’m already marked by Xandriel anyway."

"I can't do that." He started walking me back toward my room, keeping his distance but staying close enough to be a shield. "You’re never leaving this house. No one is ever going to touch you again."

"You can't save me!" I screamed at his back. "I was born for this misery!"

"I'll try," he said, his voice shaking with a sudden, quiet intensity. "I'll do everything I can."

"What is all the screaming about?"

A girl stepped out of a room nearby. She was stunning, even in silk pajamas. Her hair was perfect, her eyes sharp and annoyed. I froze. Was this one of his girls?

"I—" I started, but Alexander cut me off.

"This is my sister, Margo," he said, rolling his eyes.

Margo looked me up and down, her lip curling. "Why are you fighting at six in the morning? And why are you with a girl?"

"This is Seraphina," Alexander said, his voice softening. "My mate."

Margo’s entire face changed. She didn't look annoyed anymore; she looked like she’d just won the lottery. She started jumping up and down, a huge grin breaking across her face.

"Really?! Finally! So you're the one. It’s been so long!" She stepped toward me, staring at me with wide, curious eyes.

"What?" I whispered. I’d never met her in my life.

"When’s the wedding? I’m so happy! Alexander might actually stop being a jerk now."

I looked at the floor, my face burning. I wasn't thinking about weddings. I was thinking about survival.

"Margo, stop," Alexander muttered, clearing his throat.

Margo ignored him. She reached out and played with the ends of my hair, her smile warm and genuine.

"You're gorgeous," she whispered. "My brother better not mess this up. He’s been a nightmare since he lost his last chance at a mate. Come on, let's go eat."

She draped an arm over my shoulders and led me toward the kitchen, leaving Alexander standing alone in the dark hallway.

He lost his mate? Was the last story that he told me true? Am I really his lost mate?