The Alpha's Rejected Silent Mate

.Chapter 18

It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, I chant to myself in my head, forcing my eyes which feel really gritty open, only to see nothing more than darkness surrounding me. Wherever I am theres’ not much light to see.

My head is f*****g throbbing and I wince as I try to move my arms and legs to no avail. Something was chaffing and I looked down to see that I was firmly tied to a chair, my legs tied to the legs and my arms behind me. I swear, but it’s muffled by the gag that’s been shoved in my mouth and tied around my head.

“Mmmf” I cry out but there’s no answer and my eyes scan whatever the hell this room is for any sign of escape.

It appears to be a basement of some sort, the floor a hard concrete, various pieces of furniture in states of decay.

The air smells disgusting and moldy and I try not to inhale too much. There’s nothing that I can use to free myself and I feel sick to my stomach.

Even on the baddest of days I had never once thought my father was capable of selling me to someone for money. I thought maybe, in the smallest bit of his heart he might have actually given some sort of damn about me.

How naive was I? He’d never forgiven me for mother’s death and if he wanted to destroy any love I might have had for him, this was the way to do it. I shove frantically at the chair, scraping it across the floor and curse at the noise it makes. Maybe theres something in one of the drawers of the various furniture that might have something useful.

But as I’m moving something catches the corner of my eye and I whip my head around and begin to feel a rising sense of panic.

unremarkable considering all of the other bits of furniture in the basement but it’s almost new, and it’s made up. Why would a bed be made up in a basement? There was only one answer that came to mind and it wasn’t a good one.

whoever had

not to tip over and fall. It makes a racket but I’m past

empty, or at least it feels like it, it’s kinda difficult to see properly and feel with hands that don’t have much give. I wonder about using the corner of the desk to rub the ropes against but it would take forever and even attempting to undo the knots isn’t

I try

house. I don’t even know how long I’ve been out for. What if I’ve been taken to a different town?

I wait for the inevitable. I know what the person who

think of and with my eyes scrunched closed so I couldn’t talk my way out of it, I tip myself sideways and let the chair fall, hoping that it

to be slightly looser and I wiggle and pull and tug as

bit of hope as they begin to get slack. Way to go Winter, I cheer myself

tug at the ropes. I can deal with the pain later, right now I was focussed on getting these damn ropes off and then untying my legs.   it’s excruciating as the numbness fades and pain begins. I reach around, my shoulders protesting and begin to untie my ankles which are just as tight and just as annoying to get undone. Sitting doesn’t make it easier, and I’m forced to stay lying down as I tug and pull, swearing to myself. I take the gag off and am about to call out for help when I stop. If I call out he, whoever he was, would hear me. For all I knew he was upstairs waiting for me to wake up. So I keep silent and the ropes begin to slacken and then finally pull off, leaving me free to get to my feet which are full of

and needles.

any windows or doors besides

room and that’s to go up. A weapon would

for support as I make my way up, placing my feet as lightly as