A Strange Pull

Sasha

 I try to keep up with him, but my hip is in pain. He is so fast that I can’t even keep up with him. I grab my dress and then jog after him. It’s not how I was raised. I have been told a woman doesn’t run, but right now, the alpha king seems determined to get away from here.

“Wait!” I shout, but when he pauses, I find myself hitting his back. I stagger back and lower my head, my heart is pounding hard, and my chest rises and falls. “I’m sorry,” I quickly apologize before he unleashes his anger on me.

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t…” I stutter, reading his face, but it’s cold, and there’s no emotion.

“What is it, Sasha?” he asks. He knows my name. I find myself loving the way he says it.

“I was wondering about my stuff. I didn’t get to pack." I point towards the house. Waiting for his response, he turns to the man who is standing by the door.

“We already have everything you need,” he says, then dips his head, with a smile on his face.

“Everything?”

“Yes. The omega packed everything for you. Including your things. Your handbag is in the car.” He dips his head again, and I nod.

I don’t have a handbag or personal things. The only things I have are the rags I call clothes and a few pictures of my two little sisters. Nicole and Daniela, my father’s favorite daughters.

“Thank you,” I say to the man who holds the door

“No, it was no problem.”

“If we are done here, I would like to be home by first light,” Cassian says and gets in the car on the other side, and I nod my head. Getting in the car and giving the man holding the door a smile,

“Taylor, I would like to pick up something on the way,” Cassian says. Sitting in his chair. The driver’s name is Taylor. I make notes in my mind. I should thank him for taking my things.

“Yes, your grace,” He responds, then the car starts. I turn on my chair, glancing back at the packhouse. It’s like any normal day. Everyone seems occupied with something, and no one to see me off.

My heart aches. I knew I was never loved, but knowing no one wanted to say goodbye to me, it hurt even more. I can’t believe this is my life. I fell back in my seat and let the tears roll down my cheeks. I cried for the home that never accepted me. A place I can call home, but never truly was.

The pain of knowing I was never truly accepted and probably never will be hit hard, and I break down, letting the sobs out. I cover my mouth with my hand, letting the tears stream down my face.

“Sasha…” Cassian’s voice comes.

“I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean…I am…” I stutter when he hands me a handkerchief. I stare at the hand giving me the handkerchief. It has a scar from the finger, then disappears into his leather jacket. I wonder how far it goes; my hands itch to reach for his finger and trace the scar to see how far it goes.

He lets out a throaty growl. My gaze trails from his hand to his face. There’s a line on his forehead, and his eyebrows are narrowed together. The one on his face looks like it’s an old one, and it makes me wonder what kind of monster would do something like this to someone.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that” he growls, his voice a bit huskier.

“I’m sorry... I am fine,” I say, wiping my face with the back of my hand. He pulls back his hand, putting the handkerchief in his pocket.

“Stop saying sorry. It’s fucking irritating,” He growls, taking out his phone.

“I’m sorry… I just…” I stutter, pausing when he snaps his head towards me. He clenches his jaw tight, his nostrils flaring. His eyes burn with a cold fury that sends shivers down the spine of anyone who dares to look into them.

Oh, great, Sash. You have pissed him off.

“Do I scare you, Sasha?” he suddenly asks me. “Do I disgust you?” He asks me as I swallow hard. I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t find him disgusting, but striking. He looks like a man who has lived through pain, yet he scares me.

I shake my head.

“I’m not a nice man, Sasha. I am not your knight in shining armor,” he says, his words so cold they send a chill down my spine. I hold his gaze, not sure what to say, and my eyes roam all over his face.

I should be scared of this man. Yet I find myself drawn to him. He is scary, but something draws me to him