Lahat ng Kabanata ng Nursing the Murderer Alpha King: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

There’s really a fucking hand in the box.Not plastic. Not silicone. Not Halloween-party-gone-too-far kind of hand.No. This one’s got dirt under the nails. Blood crusted around the torn wrist.Veins like blue ropes curling under pale, sickly skin. The flesh is already starting to bloat.And it stinks.Jesus. It stinks.Rot and copper and something sour I can’t even describe. One finger's bent at a weird angle. The nail's chipped. My stomach folds in on itself. I’ve seen shit in the ER, but not this. Not fucking this.This isn't just medical-weird. This is bury-the-body kind of weird.I slam a hand over my mouth before the bile reaches my throat.I back away, fast, my heel catching on the uneven tile, hand scrambling for balance on the wall. The box stays in the center of my shitty apartment floor like it belongs here. Like it’s mocking me.What the fuck do I do?Call the police?No—no fucking way. If this is what I think it is—and I’m not delusional, that’s a damn human hand—then thi

The first thing I register is the cold.Not the kind that pricks your skin or sends shivers down your spine. No, this is deeper. It’s the kind that settles in your bones and makes everything feel like it’s not yours. My body, the air, the stillness. Nothing fucking feels like mine anymore.My head throbs. It feels like a jackhammer took a personal interest in my skull.I blink. Once. Twice.I look around my surroundings. The floor. I’m in my house. Then I realize—I can’t fucking move.What the—where’s that psycho killer? I was in the woods? What happened? How did I get here? How did I—ah!My arms are yanked back behind the chair I’m in, wrists locked with something metallic. It’s not silver, thankfully. I try to twist, but there's no give. Steel. Chains. My ankles are tied too. Not tight enough to cut circulation, but firm enough that struggling just makes me look stupid.My kitchen light is on. It’s that flickering bulb I’ve been too broke to fix for weeks. I’m still in my apartment.

The bed creaks.At first, it’s just a twitch. A subtle, involuntary jerk of his arm, barely more than a breath shifting the sheet. But then the muscles in his neck tighten, the tendons bulge, and his chest heaves like he’s trying to crawl out of his own skin.Fuck.I drop the wet towel I’ve been holding and bolt to the side of the bed. His entire body bows off the mattress like something is yanking him from the inside—veins pulsing, skin flushed, jaw clenched so hard I hear his teeth grind.“Dante—shit, stop—” I shudder. His fingers are clawing at his throat. Long, sharp nails digging red crescents into his already bruised skin.“No, no—don’t you fucking dare bleed out on me now.”You can’t fucking die or it’s my life on the line, you fucking idiot.I throw myself over him, wrestling his hands away from his neck. He growls, a bone-shuddering sound I haven’t been accustomed to since meddling in with the humans. The sound vibrates through his chest and right into my spine.I manage to g

Hell no. This isn’t what I’m being paid for. I instantly get out of the tub, pushing him off. My clothes are wet but my body is still paralyzed from how he pinned me on the tub earlier.The second I manage to yank the bathroom door open, I feel like I’ve just escaped a fucking warzone.Except the war is still following me.Dripping wet, freezing my tits off, and with shampoo stinging the shit out of my left eye, I bolt down the hallway as if it owes me money. My soaked clothes slap against my skin with each step, and I’m pretty sure this oversized T-shirt is now see-through in all the worst places. Thank Goddess I’m not wearing white. Small blessings, I guess.I reach the bedroom, slam the door, and suck in a lungful of air.What the fuck was that?No, seriously—what. The actual. Fuck.I almost kissed him. Or maybe he almost kissed me. I don’t even know who leaned in first, but his face was there, all wet and serious and too close to mine, and I lost brain function. I’m pretty sure h

No.No fucking way.The second he opens his mouth, my throat closes.“Long time, Omega.”My knees buckle, but I don’t fall. Not yet. My spine locks though it’s been injected with cement, and I swear I can taste bile. His voice is the same. Maybe deeper. Age has gritted it out, but the rot beneath is still there. Still him.“Still trembling like a rabbit, I see.”I don’t move. I can’t.The fluorescent lights overhead buzz, casting his shadow long and sharp across the linoleum floor of the aisle. Shelf number five. Right between baking powder and pasta sauce. It’s almost funny. If I wasn’t about to fucking collapse.“Lucien,” I croak. My voice is barely a whisper.He smiles wider. All teeth. All predator.“Thought you could run from me, little healer?” he murmurs, stepping closer. “From what we had?”What we—?I flinch—full-body. And that’s what he wants, isn’t it? That reaction. That old panic crawling through me like maggots in open skin.He moves fast. As he always did. In a blink, m