He’s an Alpha She doesn’t Care novel Chapter 101

Wynta

That was an interesting thought, anything she wanted to “Do you promise, anything at all?” Wynta looked right down at Jared now with more than playfulness, it was intrigue because that was a very silly thing to say. She could, with that statement, literally do anything to him.

“Mm, hmm.” He nodded with a smile and his blue eyes practically sparkled with amusement up at her.

Wynta shifted herself from lying on him to sitting on him, as she thought about those very words, she could turn that into something completely different to what he was thinking. “Just not the actual act of s*x between you and I?” she clarified.

“Yes, anything in this bedroom but actual sex.” He smirked a little.

She smiled big, herself now as mischief brewed. “Hmm, that is an interesting thing to say, Mr. Hayes,” she chuckled softly, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. “I bought new toys, and what if I want to use one on you? That doesn’t count as us having sex, does it?” With that, she playfully nipped at his earlobe, savoring the sharp sting of the moment. But as she did, an unexpected wave of sensation engulfed her, and a violent shudder coursed through her body at the taste of blood, a searing pain exploding in her head.

A hand flew to her temple as darkness danced at the edges of her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to grasp the reality around her. Jared’s voice, though familiar, felt distant, like an echo reverberating through a vast chasm. Flickering images of darkness and light flashed before her, strobe-like, and her body felt uncomfortably hot, as if fire coursed through her veins. Pain ripped through her skull like a jagged knife, a sensation she had never before experienced.

Time blurred as she battled the turmoil within her, and when she finally pried her eyes open, Jared was mere inches away, his gaze searching hers with a mix of concern and confusion. “What happened?” she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

His brow furrowed in worry. “It looked like you had a seizure,” he explained, his tone serious. “I called Gordon to check on you, but he said we should get you to the nearest hospital.”

Her heart raced as she took in her surroundings. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and she realized with a jolt that they were no longer in her apartment; she was in a hospital room, an IV drip attached to her arm, the fluid slowly flowing into her. Panic surged within her as she attempted to sit up, but Jared gently pressed her back down, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder. “Don’t get up just yet. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.”

“I passed out?” she asked, her mind racing to piece together the events leading up to this moment. “How long was I out?”

“Hours,” he replied, his voice laced with concern. “They ran some tests. Gordon and your father are here with the doctor now.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she turned her head, scanning the room. The reality of her situation settled heavily on her chest. “Where exactly am I?” she inquired, her voice trembling slightly.

“Human hospital. It was the closest one,” Jared informed her as he stood up, the weight of the moment clearly affecting him. “Just stay here; I’ll be right back.”

She sighed deeply, feeling the gravity of the situation settle over her like a heavy blanket. As Jared stepped out of the room, she let her gaze wander around the sterile confines of the hospital. This was a private room, just for her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had taken root in her stomach. What had happened to her?

A strange sensation tugged at her heart, a familiar pull that felt like a tether connecting her to someone far away. Biting her lip, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, grasping the IV pole for support as she made her way to the window. Whoever was reaching out to her felt closer than ever, a presence she couldn’t ignore.

As she stood there, gazing out into the night, a myriad of thoughts raced through her mind. There were only two possibilities: the person her mother had bled her to, or her actual mother. But then a chilling thought struck her. What if she had never been bled to anyone at all? That would mean her father had a connection to her as well.

Should she sever that bond? The thought was unsettling. She knew it could be done easily; all she had to do was truly desire it and speak the words. But the idea of cutting ties with her mother was unthinkable.

“Wynta.” A soft, shaky voice called out to her, echoing inside her mind.

She turned, scanning the empty room, but there was no one there. Her heart raced. That voice had been inside her head, urging her, ‘Rid him.’ The tremor in the voice was palpable, filled with pain, and then, just like that, the connection faded, leaving her gasping as another jolt of pain shot through her head. It was brief, but intense, as if someone had violently severed a link between them.

Tears welled in her eyes as she returned her gaze to the night outside, feeling the tugging sensation inside her cease abruptly. ‘Rid him.’ Those words echoed in her mind, and she felt a surge of emotion as she considered their meaning. What if it was her mother? What if she was in trouble, suffering at the hands of that monster? A wave of anxiety washed over her; she had never experienced an inner beast trying to break free, but this felt different. It had to be her mother’s voice. Looking down at her clenched fist resting against her chest, she whispered, “Okay.”

“Wynta?” The sound of Jared’s voice drew her attention, and she turned to see him standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. He stepped closer, his hands gently cradling her face as his thumbs brushed away the tears she hadn’t realized were streaming down her cheeks.

“I hate him.” A sob escaped her lips, surprising even herself. She hadn’t noticed when the tears had begun to fall. “Selena, I renounce any kind of bond to whoever my father is,” she declared softly, her gaze locked onto Jared’s. Each word carried the weight of her conviction.

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