Chapter 41 Still feel him
AMARA’S POV
Sensation woke me.
Warmth. Wetness. A flicker of pressure between my thighs.
"What the hell…?" Confused, I blinked my eyes open, lashes crusted with sleep. The room was flooded with morning light, golden rays pouring through the open curtains, casting long, soft shadows across the hardwood floor. Everything looked in place, untouched. Peaceful. Except something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Then I felt it.
Xavier was between my legs.
I couldn’t see him, he was hidden beneath the blankets like a monster lurking just beneath the surface but his hands gripped my hips firmly, fingers digging into the softness of my skin like claws, and his tongue... his tongue was tracing over me with slow, practiced movements. Wet, deliberate strokes that made my stomach turn.
My legs were spread, shamefully compliant, body betraying me with every second that passed. The heat pooled low, unwelcome and treacherous, making my throat tighten with confusion and revulsion.
My breath caught in my throat, my body stiffening as realization dawned like a slap to the face. He was eating me out without permission, without warning. My panties were already halfway down, sliding further with every calculated movement of his mouth.
This was insane. Unbelievable. Violent in its audacity.
What the hell happened during the night?
My entire body flushed with unwanted heat. The shameful pleasure made my stomach twist, a sick knot tightening as my skin burned. For a split second, I felt like I was floating, like I could melt into the bed, forget who I was. But instead of moaning, I kicked him hard, right on the shoulder with the heel of my foot, heart hammering like a war drum.
“Leave me alone!” My voice came out hoarse, scraped raw with fury and fear.
He didn’t stop.
I kicked again, legs flailing, struggled to close them, to reclaim ownership of my own body, but he was strong, stronger than I remembered. “Stop it!” I shouted, louder this time, trembling with disgust and rage, voice cracking under the weight of it all.
Just last night, he had paraded Renee in front of the pack like a proud Alpha presenting his Luna. The perfect couple. The perfect lie. And now he was between my legs?
He wanted to make me a surrogate. A breeder.
Like some animal.
Just a shameless, controlling beast.
“No one tells me no…” he growled against my skin, his voice vibrating into me like poison.
“Alpha Xavier—” a knock came at the door.
He paused.
“Coming,” he groaned in annoyance, his voice muffled but irritated. “Saved by the damn knock,” he muttered before sauntering away toward the bedroom door, each step unapologetic, arrogant.
As soon as I felt the shift in weight, the sudden absence of him, I shot up, heart pounding violently against my ribcage, every breath like a scream inside my chest. My lungs couldn’t find enough air. My fingers trembled as I shoved the blankets off me in a panic. My panties were still tangled around my ankles. I kicked them away, as though they burned me, and stormed into the bathroom on shaky legs.
I leaned against the door, slammed it shut, palms flat against the cool wood as if holding it closed could keep everything out, the memories, the violation, the sickness inside me. My mind raced, loud and chaotic.
What do I do?
I can’t run. I can’t fight him. I won’t be his useless breeder.
My hands rose to cover my ears, as if that could block out the thoughts, the memories. As if silence could protect me from everything screaming inside.
I stood like that for I-don’t-know-how-long, paralyzed by fury, fear, shame. Numb and yet painfully awake. When I finally stepped into the shower, I turned the water to scalding hot, letting it burn away the ghost of his mouth. I scrubbed until my skin turned red and raw, until my fingertips ached from the friction. Twenty minutes. Maybe longer.
But I could still smell him on me.
Still feel him.
When I stepped out wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, skin stinging, my eyes were drawn to the neatly folded clothes on the edge of the bed. Fresh shirts, tank tops, yoga pants, even underwear—tags still on. Dresses too. All my size. Lyra probably bought them for me again.
I got dressed quickly, choosing a simple outfit. Loose. Uncomplicated. Then I sat on the bed, legs curled up beneath me, staring blankly at nothing. There was nothing else to do but wait. Wait and try not to think. Try not to remember the weight of his body, the sound of his voice.
The door creaked open.
“Oh good, they all fit again!” Lyra's cheerful voice rang out. Her red hair appeared before I even had time to process her entrance.
She walked in uninvited again. I didn’t hide my annoyance. She left me alone when I was fighting with Renee.“Thank you,” I muttered, not looking at her. My voice was flat, my tone cold.
“I know it’s unconventional,” she said, flopping onto the bed beside me, her movement casual, as though this wasn’t a prison. “But I’m here for you, Amara. At your service.”
I nodded slowly, unsure what game she was playing now. Every kindness from her felt laced with manipulation.
“Come on, walk with me,” she offered, annoyingly chipper. “Let’s go have breakfast together again”
“I want to sleep.” My voice was flat, robotic.
“Xavier's not around. Let’s go!” she cut me off, already standing, grabbing my hand like we were friends, like this was normal. I didn’t resist. Part of me was curious, desperate, even for air. For distance. For anything that wasn’t that room.
She led me through elegant hallways, decorated with oil paintings and old-world chandeliers, until we reached a sleek, modern kitchen. Not the one the omegas used. This one was bright, luxurious, with polished counters and a patio just beyond the glass doors. Sunshine filtered in like a lie.
“Sit here,” she instructed like I was a guest. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee. Three sugars,” I answered automatically, the habit escaping my lips before I could stop it.
“Three?” She raised a brow. “Terrible. I’ll wean you off that.” But she brought it back without complaint.
“Here it is.” She smiled again.
I sipped, but my mind drifted. Everything about this reminded me that this wasn’t freedom.
This was a gilded cage with coffee.
“I’ll keep you company,” Lyra offered, sipping from her own cup. I gave her a glance, but she didn’t seem to notice my disinterest. Then I asked what I truly wanted to know.
“Why is your cousin, your Alpha so cruel to me? He didn’t even punish Renee for starting the fight.” Lyra's smile faltered when I spoke that. She looked down, lips tightening.
“I know how you feel, Amara,” she said carefully. “But I’m with you.”
That wasn’t an answer.
“I’ll always be on your side,” she added, sidestepping again. “Uh huh,” I hummed, unimpressed.
She kept going, pretending not to notice. “I’m also scared of Leander. He wasn’t always like this. He’s angry. Cold. But… that’s how Alphas are. You know that.”
I stared at her. Do I?
Do I know anything anymore?“You need to eat,” she said, motioning to my untouched plate. I forced myself to take a bite. It tasted like ash. Dust. Emptiness in edible form.
“He’s not a bad man,” she whispered. “He has demons, sure, but I believe he’ll change. Maybe you’ll help him.”
Her words hit a nerve.
“I’m a prisoner, Lyra. I want to go. I want to have my freedom.”
She looked away. “You’ll see. Under his… You’ll see.” I didn’t know what she meant. I didn’t care.
I placed the cup down with a soft clink, irritation simmering under my skin. “Mara,” she tried again, “I know he’s harsh. But you, you could bring him into the light.”
I didn’t answer. I stared out the patio doors, beyond the pool, to the forest.
To freedom.
Real freedom.
“I hope we can still be friends regardless of your hatred towards him,” she said gently. “Come to me if you need anything.”
Then she perked up again. “Want a tour? Just the upper-class part. Where the elites live—”
“I’d rather lie down,” I cut in flatly. Her expression wilted.
“Amara…”
“I just need a nap. Thank you.”
I turned away and climbed the stairs, leaving her voice behind.
Leaving the illusion behind.