Alpha Ch. 07

She finally looked back into his face and he grabbed her; holding her to his chest tightly he listened to the heaving sobs wracking her body. The scent of her blood assaulted his senses and the memory of her screams came rushing back.

Lucius held her tightly until she began to calm. The shivers that ran through her body stopped and her breathing evened out. When he looked down at her again, the familiar emptiness had glazed her eyes and she was limp against him.

Holding her away from him, he stared at the cuts in her skin.

"We're gonna have to clean those."

She shook her head, "It's my fault. Daddy wouldn't let me clean them."

"They'll get infected."

"I deserve it. I hurt myself so I cannot clean them. Daddy said if I let it happen then I should let them get infected."

Lucius sighed, "I'm getting real fucking sick of Daddy. Now, either you can walk through to the bathroom by yourself or I can carry you in."

Her eyes hardened, "Daddy wouldn't let me."

"Daddy isn't here."

Lucius's hand reached out and grabbed her. Flinging her over his shoulder he moved through to the bathroom. He barely felt her struggling; her fists pummelling his back as her feet kicked his stomach as she tried desperately to get away.

"Will you stop your fucking squirming!"

He brought her back over his shoulder and one large hand spread across her back. His free hand held her thighs and her hands were trapped between their bodies.

Her blue eyes burned up at him and her breathing was ragged. Her cheeks were flushed red and Lucius was taken aback by the anger in her expression.

"Feral little beast, aren't you?"

"I am no fiara. You are the beast here."

"I am trying to help. I could have let you kill yourself and been done with it but instead you're here."

Oana laughed derisively, "I never asked to be here so why are you doing it? Do you want to keep me around as a plaything? Something to take your anger out on whenever you see fit?"

Lucius growled, "Be careful darlin," he spoke through gritted teeth. "There are a lot of things that I held back in that room; here there is no one to stop me."

"And, who would you be protecting this time?" Oana wasn't sure why she was provoking the monstrous man in front of her. She only knew that she needed something to stop her thinking of the crippling emptiness inside her that Daddy's absence left. "I'm no threat to you or your family so tell me, how would you justify it this time?" She smiled nastily. "Or maybe you just like hurting me?"

Lucius released her and she fell to the floor. Taking a step back he fought to control his breathing, his hands were balled into fists and his nostrils flared with his heavy breathing.

"I'm not going to be your way out, no matter how hard you push me to be."

He turned and left the room, she stayed where she was trying to process what had happened.

Lucius stormed downstairs and into the kitchen. Flinging open a cupboard, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass before moving to the living room and slamming down on the sofa. Pouring the amber liquid into the glass, he drank deeply before filling the glass again. His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were shaking.

He thought of his phone upstairs on his bedside table. He could call Drago right now and have Oana taken away from him. She was close to getting under his skin in a way that would put her in danger and she had barely said anything to him; but she saw him for what he was.

He drank again, then again, then again. Soon his head was swimming and his eyes were heavy. His head lolled back against the arm of the sofa and the arm holding the glass fell off the side.

Oana watched from the bottom of the stairs. She had crept down and behind her back she held a sharp knife from the kitchen. She waited until she was sure he was asleep before moving silently into the room. He looked different when he slept; his face was calm and all traces of his earlier rage had disappeared.

Taking her chance, she straddled him and placed the knife to his neck. His eyes instantly flew open and locked onto hers in the dim light from the lamp. His hand moved to her but she pressed the knife harder into his skin making him stop.

"Really? This again?" his voice was gruff from sleep.

"You're going to take down whatever barrier you have around this house and tell me how to get the hell out of here."

"And, if I don't?"

She dug the blade of the knife harder into his neck.

"Then I'll slit your throat and wait for your friends to find your body." She leant forward. "Then I'll do the same to each and every one of them that try to stop me from getting back to Daddy."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Her eyes widened at his question.

"What do you mean? Of course, it's what I want."

"Why?" He pushed himself up slightly, ignoring the pain in his neck from the blade. "Why would you want to go back to him?"

"Where else would I go?"

"He killed your family, took you and kept you prisoner for 60 years. He left you to us thinking we would kill you and now you want to go back to him?"

"He didn't leave me. You took me from him and now I am going back. If you try and stop me, I will kill you." She pushed on his chest and pressed the blade still harder against him. "Now tell me, how do I get out of here?"

"Oana. I don't want to make you do anything."

"Don't tell me to stop. Just let me go."

Lucius shook his head, "I can't do that."

"Please let me go to him."

There was a hitch in her voice and Lucius felt his stomach drop. What if they were too late to save her?

"Oana drop the knife."

Immediately, she released her grip on the handle as she had the night before. He sat up slowly, expecting her to move from his lap; she didn't.

She could feel his eyes on her and she twisted the hem of the t-shirt she wore between her hands.

"Don't look at me like that." She turned her head to the side. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity." He touched her knee gently. "I'm just trying to understand."

"You'll never understand. You sent the Order to my family, you killed them all. I heard them screaming and it's your fault. You broke me. It was Daddy who put me back together and now you have taken him from me too." Her shoulders slumped and she met his eyes. "Why are you doing this to me? Do you like seeing me suffer?"

"Shit." Lucius dragged his hands down his face. "I know you don't believe me but I promise, we had nothing to do with what happened to your family. As for keeping you here, it is best for you. We didn't take you from him, he left you."

"Why do you keep saying that?" She moved backwards until she hit the arm of the sofa. Pulling her knees to her chest, she watched him. "It's not true. He would never leave me."

He knew there was no point in arguing. His eyes fell to the scratches on her arms and legs.

"Did you clean those?"

"You said I should."

"I said you should, not that you had to."

"Is there a difference?" her tone was unreadable.

He sat forward and took up the bottle of whiskey.

Jerking his head towards the kitchen, he spoke to her, "Get a glass."

She did as she was told and brought it back. He poured them each a measure and held hers towards her.

"Sit down, have a drink with me."

She took the glass and sank back onto the sofa. Pulling her legs up beneath her, she sipped the amber liquid.

"Are you hungry?" he asked brusquely.

Her tongue came out to wet her lips nervously.

"I don't know."

He sighed. He couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry." She spoke before he could say anything. "I've been with him for so long. He would control everything. He'd tell me when I was hungry and when I was tired. Jesus, he'd even tell me when I needed the bathroom. I was 18 when my family died. I had 18 years of thinking for myself then 60 not knowing my own mind. I don't know what I want, I can't make decisions for myself and that makes me sick."

She stared at him and he saw tears in her eyes.

"Everything I am is because of him, everything I have is his. How am I meant to go on without him?"

"We'll help you."

She laughed sadly, "How?"

"Anyway, we can. Do you trust us to try?"

She paused, "Did you like hurting me?"

Lucius stared at his hands as he swilled the liquid in his glass.

"I can't answer that."

"Then I can't trust you." She drained her glass and set it back on the small table in front of them. "I think I would like to go to bed."

"You don't need to ask darlin."

"If I don't need to ask then why can't I move?"

She swallowed hard pushing back tears.

The longer Daddy was gone from her mind the more she could think for herself. She wanted to stand and leave the room but she couldn't make her legs work. There were times when she could break passed the block in her mind and her actions were her own, but this just made the times she couldn't even more painful. She looked at him desperately.

"Please." Tears fell, rolling down her pink cheeks. "You said you wanted to help me. I'll beg if that's what you want just please, do something."

He stood and pulled her to her feet. Touching her cheek, he spoke.

"You don't need to beg, but before you go will you answer one question?" She nodded and waited for him to continue. "Fiara, it means beast yes?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"In what language?"

"Romanian."

He seemed surprised.

"You speak Romanian?"

"It is my first language."

"OK." He nodded in satisfaction. "Then to bed with you, Fiara."

A smile curved her lips, "Goodnight Vanator."

*

"Ow, not so hard." Ealasaid laughed at Drago's outburst and dug her thumbs harder into his back. He shifted underneath her and whimpered pitifully. "When you offered a massage, I was thinking more warm oil and happy endings."

She laughed again, the husky sound filling the room and she leant forward to speak into his ear. She wore nothing but her black lace panties and her soft breasts pressed against his back.

"All in good time, Mr LaBelle but you did a lot of heavy lifting today. You're not as young as you used to be; I would hate for you to hurt yourself."

"Cheeky bitch." He grumbled good-heartedly. "I'm not too old to teach my Mate a lesson or two."

"I'm sure."

She kissed between his shoulder blades. She smoothed her hands up his back feeling the scars that covered him. She traced each one with a feeling of pride. They both bore the marks of their suffering but both had survived.

Drago shifted again and she jerked her hand away.

"Sorry, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He shook his head with a smile.

"No Ma Petite. They don't hurt anymore; in fact, it feels quite nice."

"It does?"

She kissed his shoulder again.

"It does; though I know they don't look nice."

"They show what you went through and show that you survived." She brushed his hair back from his face and kissed his cheek. "My strong, brave laoch."

"Laoch?" He frowned. "What's that?"

"It's Gaelic. It means warrior."

"Warrior?" He nodded in approval. "You speak Gaelic?"

"Aye, my parents taught me and Tavish when we were babes. I haven't been able to use it in a long time though."

He turned beneath her so he lay on his back and stroked her calf teasingly. "That's beautiful Ma Petite."

She shrugged, "It's no French but it's pretty in its own way."

"You like French?" he smirked.

She nodded, "Will you teach me?"

He rolled them and rested his forearm beside her head.

"You want to learn my language?"

"What's the matter? Scared you won't be able to have your little private conversations anymore?"

Her tone was serious but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I was more thinking how beautiful it will sound coming from your mouth." He traced her lips. "That and how much you'll blush when you hear what I talk with them about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you might hear Jaylon talking about how great your ass looks when you play pool. How Lucius likes visiting you at work because your tops are cut low enough to see those beautiful tits." Instantly she felt her cheeks heat. "Or, you might hear me telling them how sweet your little pussy tastes."

"Drago!" She burned hotter. "You don't."

"You might hear me talking about how tight you are and how good it feels when I fuck you."

She covered her face with her small hands and he laughed. Kissing her neck, he tenderly ran his fingers over her stomach.

"You'll also hear me tell them how lucky I am to have you. How beautiful you are when you laugh and when you sleep. How soft your skin is and how you take all the pain away."

He smiled as she squirmed beneath him.

"Stop," her voice was trembling and he could hear the smile.

"You'll hear that all I talk about is you and realise that you own me, body and soul." He pulled her hands away from her face and looked into her bright eyes. "Still want to learn?"

"Are you always so soppy?"

Ealasaid teased him but her cheeks were still burning and her chest felt like it would burst.

"Only when I talk about you Ma Petite." He kissed her, feeling her lips tremble against his. "That and French is the language of love. Of course, I would use it to talk about l'amour de ma vie."

"L'amour de ma vie?"

"Oui, mon etoile." He kissed her cheek. "Ma passion." He kissed the other cheek. "Ma perfection, ma raison d'etre, mon amour, mon avenir, mon bonheur, mon desir." He continued, punctuating each expression with a kiss to her face, neck and shoulders. Anywhere he could reach. "Ma foi, ma force, mon amoureux, mon reve. Mon Coeur."

She was giggling at his onslaught, "What do they mean?"

"My star, my passion, my perfection and my reason for living." He still assaulted her with kisses as his fingers tickled her ribs mercilessly. "My love, future, happiness, desire. My faith, my strength, my lover, my dream." He pulled back and fixed his eyes to hers. "My heart. I love you Mon Coeur."

Ealasaid's eyes shone brightly as she stared up at him. He kept eye contact as he teased her ribs before moving his hand to her breast. He kneaded the soft skin until she was panting for breath and she pushed his chest.

"Drago, I'm starving and if you start that again we'll never get everything done."

He rolled off her with a frustrated sigh, "What's left to do?"

She laughed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Running her fingers through her hair, she began to plait it.

"We have to get the last of the stuff from the kitchen and everything from your study. I don't want to take more than two trips tomorrow." She glanced over at him. "The sooner we're moved in the sooner you can fuck me up against those windows."

Drago growled and reached for her but she slid from the bed. She faced him with a smirk and beckoned to him.

"Come on. We can cook together."

"Fine," Drago grumbled and dragged himself from their bed.

Gathering his clothes from where they had tossed them earlier he pulled his jeans on and handed her his t-shirt. He watched as she dressed and stifled a laugh. His t-shirt swamped her, looking more like a dress on her small frame. Stepping to her he tugged gently on the end of her plait.

"You're so tiny. The children will outgrow you soon."

"Look, I would love to grow, even a couple inches but I think I'm stuck at this height now."

Ealasaid stuck her hands on her hips and drew herself as tall as she could. There was that defiant glint in her eye that he had grown to adore and he stepped forward.

"You're perfect the way you are and besides," he paused to lift her in one arm and held her against his side, "I like that I can throw you around when needed."

She couldn't help but giggle.

"Gonna throw me over your shoulder and take me to your cave to have your way with me?" She pulled his beard. "The caveman act suits you."

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Ma Petite."

Drago left the room, still holding her against him and went downstairs. In the kitchen he dropped her back on her feet and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"So, what do you feel like?"

"Hmm." She began rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. "We could do an everything stew?"

"Everything stew?"

"We used to make it back home. It was our favourite."

She started pulling food from the fridge and grabbed a chopping board.

"Here." She held a knife out to him. "You can chop the onions."

He joined her at the counter and dutifully began to follow her instructions.

"Me and Tavish loved this. Every Sunday, my parents would cook up all the leftover meat and vegetables from the week, then cook them into a stew. It used to make the kitchen smell amazing."

Her voice had taken on a wistful tone as she prepared the food. She sliced thick cuts of beef into chunks and tipped them into a large pan.

"My mum used to make this amazing bread. It was crusty then so soft in the middle, we would have it straight from the oven so the butter would melt when you spread it on." She licked her lips and turned to face him. "Those are some of my happiest memories, Sunday dinner with my family."

He watched her flit happily around the kitchen, adding vegetables, wine and stock to the pan and soon the room was filled with the delicious smell of cooking. Drago poured them each a large glass of the wine and watched in fondness at this domestic side of his Mate.

Ealasaid placed a lid on the pot and opened the oven door.

"Could you get this big guy?"

He transferred it to the over and she smiled in satisfaction.

"We have an hour and half until this is done. Reckon we could get your study done in that time?"

Drago held her waist and pulled her close.

"I can think of a much more entertaining way to pass the time."

She shook her head in amusement.

"I'm sure you can but I want everything ready to go tomorrow."

"Fine." Drago grumbled. "But, the second we're done, you don't resist me anymore."

Ealasaid threw him a mock salute, "Yes Alpha."

Drago snarled, turned and left before she could see the torture her words gave him. Ealasaid grabbed two bottles of wine before she followed him through to the study and watched as he looked around the room. The wall behind his desk was lined with large windows. Another was covered with bookshelves and another with old fashioned filing cabinets. Ealasaid dragged in some boxes from the foyer and settled herself on the floor. There was a black fur rug, like the one in the library and she ran her fingers through it. Placing the bottles beside her, she looked up at him.

"Where shall we start?"

Drago nodded to the filing cabinets.

"In there is every single piece of information for every single one of my father's businesses. The investors would have me go through every last page and learn what he knew." Drago's eyes were distant. "Even after I did that, I wouldn't know half of what he did."

"Did he ever sit down and teach you?"

He was surprised by her question.

"No, he said I was made to run from the outside, not sit behind the scenes."

"Then there you go." Ealasaid drank deeply from her glass. "If he thought he needed to then he would have taught you. He obviously trusted you to know what to do."

Drago brought over a huge armful of papers and dropped them onto the floor in front of her. Joining her on the rug, he watched as she began to rifle through them, putting them into organised piles.

Ealasaid tried to stem her interest. The papers showed information on restaurants, hotel chains, housing complexes, even banks. She found herself reading the information avidly. It was like a foreign language to her. He wasn't sure how long they looked through the papers before she spoke again.

"You weren't lying when you said your family had an empire." She glanced up at him. "This is insane."

Drago shrugged, "I know it should be strange to think about but it's all I've ever known."