Chasing my Beloved Human Mate

AJAX ALPHA

I walk step by step through the darkness of the room.

The soft breathing from the crib makes my heart pound in my chest.

My footsteps stop, and I lower my head to see two cute wolf cubs, a female, and a male, dozing between soft blankets, cuddled in each other's arms.

A lump forms in my throat. These little ones are my children, mine, and my beloved mate.

So this is the secret you kept from me, Amalia.

I stretch out my hands and feel them tremble. I want to touch them; they look so small and fragile.

I wish to protect them with all my strength and care for them with Amalia.

"Ajax, she's here!"

My wolf warns me restlessly, and I know she has entered the room and discovered me because my mate's scent is unmistakable.

"Get away from the crib!" she says between her teeth, and I turn to see the sharp reflection of a knife pointing at my neck.

"What are you going to do, Amalia? Are you going to kill me?"

I step forward and see her tense.

The sharp point sinks into my skin, and a trickle of blood runs down my shirt.

"Ajax, don't force me. I'm no longer the innocent human you manipulated at your whim; I'm capable of anything for my children."

"Our children, they're my cubs too, even if you've been hiding them from me all this time." I can't help but complain to her.

"You kicked me out, you betrayed me, you took everything from me. How dare you ask me for explanations?! You deserve to die like a dog!" she says with hatred in her eyes, and my soul sinks.

The worst thing is that I can't refute her. She is right, even though things are not as she thinks.

"Then do it." I grab her trembling hand and point the dagger at my chest.

"But nail it here, right here, Amalia! Otherwise, you won't be able to take me away from you, from the babies."

"Ajax... "Her voice cracks, and her eyes are red, but she is stubborn and proud and has too many grievances for me.

I keep pushing her, walking toward my wife, and she keeps backing away until she hits the wall, cornered by my sturdy body.

"I know what you're up to," I whisper softly, and she stares at me suspiciously, looking for the lie in my eyes.

"And if you know, why are you here? Why don't you tell the Alpha king that we are conspiring against him?" she says ironically.

I grab the dagger, snatch it from her, and throw it on the carpet.

I press her against the wall, wanting to melt into her soft skin and soul.

The tantalizing scent of the sea and waves that she gives off drives me crazy and enchants me.

I have never stopped wanting her. She is the only one for my wolf and for me.

I grab her chin and lift her head to look into my eyes. No barriers, no lies, no tricks.

"Only one person can bend my will and make me fall to my knees. I, Alpha Ajax Karlsen, answer only to Amalia Gray, the mother of my cubs, my mate, my wife, whether you like it or not."

I whisper against her lips, watching her with intensity and pain. I have to hold on to everything I have so that I don't give in to the temptation to make her mine, as I have longed for so many nights, for so long.

I can't resist and end up kissing her passionately, letting out the despair I carry inside despite her little resistance and the tears that wet our lips.

"I will give my cubs and you what you want, and then, you can plunge that damned knife into my heart, Amalia; only then will you be free of my curse. Now tell me the truth, Luna, tell me the truth!"

*****

2YEARS AGO...

AMALIA

I was riding my old bicycle, which almost flew down the dirt road.

Breathing heavily, I arrived at the house's backyard, left it where it wouldn't get in the way, and entered through the kitchen door.

I looked at the clock, and it was already five.

D*mn, I'm going to be late for dinner tonight.

I run to put on my blue apron and wash my hands.

"Shhh," I hiss in pain as the water trickles through my sore fingers.

I work part-time at the seafood market, cleaning fish scales and doing whatever nobody wants, so I get the job.

I don't have time to complain, let alone take medicine.

Dinner must be ready by 6:30, or I will pay dearly for the consequences.

I make carbonara pasta, which is well prepared but fast.

I'm putting out the fire when I feel high heels approaching the kitchen, and I tense up.

In fact, the next second, my adopted "mother" enters, a tall blonde dressed like a flawless doll.

"Don't think I didn't know you were late again; I hope for your save you followed the instructions I left you," she says, approaching me in the cold tone she always speaks to me in.

But my brain is in shock right now. What instructions?

"Ma'am, what… what instructions?" I look down and dare to ask her nervously.

"Amalia, I hope this is a joke of yours and a very bad one... Spaghetti? Is that what you made for dinner? Are you out of your mind?!"

I hear the clatter of pots being uncovered and checked.

"There were no instructions, I didn't..." but I shut up when I felt the tug in my hair that made my head throbbing.

It brings me closer to her hateful blue eyes.

"I know you did it on purpose; I left you a note with the shopping list for tonight's special dinner because my husband's company boss is coming!"

She shakes me hard, and I stifle the groan of pain that threatens to escape my lips.

"I didn't...I didn't see anything... there were no instructions… on the refrigerator

"No...no...every day you're more pathetic, you f*ck*ng stutterer! You're the only one who gets in here! What are you saying? Did someone else take the note? You *ssh*l*!"

She slaps me hard, and my head hits the metal bell on the stove.

Tears of pain escape my eyes without my being able to avoid it, but crying or complaining will only bring me more suffering.

I have learned that lesson since I was a child.

"Look at this mess! I don't have time to make dinner again! I want to kill you, you b*st*rd!"

She pushes the pot full of spaghetti, which falls to the floor with a roar, still emitting smoke.

The sauce splashes on my feet and stings.

She hits me again with hatred, and I can only duck and protect my head while the blows of the frying pan fall on me.

"Mother, what are you doing?" Mikaela's voice suddenly rings, and my body shakes with fear.

Between the two, I don't know which is the worst.

"This useless who made a shitty meal, and today your father's boss is coming! I don't think that idiot is good enough to be a maid!"

"Mother, we can order food from that fancy restaurant you like. What else did you expect from that idiot? Maybe she'll cook a lousy meal to annoy us."

"That's right, oh daughter. You are always my little lucky star. I'll call immediately, and you pick up this mess, you idiot!"

She screams at me, and I shake my hands as I pick up the mess of dirty food on the floor.

Black heels cross in front of my eyes.

"Tell me, what are we doing with all this food? Because we feed you enough to waste it." Mikaela asks me, and I know she is up to no good.

"I know...Miss, I..."

I don't know what to tell her when I look at all the mess on the floor.

I'm sure she hid the note from the fridge, but saying so will only get me a worse punishment.

"I'll keep it to myself."

At least I know I'll be eating for a while. Dirty or not, it's food, and I've eaten worse.

"Of course, it will be for you, but you're not going to occupy the fridge with this stuff full of bacteria; you haven't eaten yet, have you? Then start eating."

"From the floor?"

I raise my head from kneeling, seeing the evil in her eyes.

Today, I will be lowered to a new level of humiliation.

I am nothing here; since I was adopted with my brother, this house has become an ordeal for me.

"Bitches like you can only eat off the floor, and you better start moving your mouth, or I'll tell Daddy that you deliberately tried to ruin his reunion to see if he'll stop paying for your little brother's killer's lawyer."

"No! Don't involve my brother."  I beg her in fear.

That's the chain they've always tied around my neck, strangling my will to live every day.

"Come on, eat; I don't have all day and don't even think about taking a piece of silverware."

Then she stands in front of me while I lower my head, get down on my knees, stretch out my trembling hands, and begin to eat like an animal, the dirty food on the floor.

The food of four adults was forced into my tiny stomach.

*****

"Buuaaajjjj"

I vomit into the toilet, arching up, even though only yellowish, disgusting liquid comes out.

I bring my trembling hand to my stomach, which hurts terribly, as tears fall from my eyes like the pathetic woman I am.

I took a napkin and wiped my chin, the vomit in my mouth, and even my nose.

With great effort, I get up to wash and take off my old T-shirt full of garbage.

Some cold water falls on my face, and I hiss at the open wound on my temple.

I look up and see myself, the image of the sickly woman in the mirror, with blond hair and hazel eyes, emaciated and pale.

Only 20 years old, and I look older from so much abuse and malnutrition, from so much hard work.

I took the T-shirt and began to scrub it with water only because I didn't have many clothes.

This shirt would have to stay with me tomorrow.

Suddenly, the little bell that announces that I am in need begins to ring insistently.

I don't know how I still stand, but I wear another blue T-shirt and walk through the dark, cold basement, which doubles as a storage room and my bedroom.

I climb the creaky wooden stairs and head for the dining room, where I hear the clatter of pans and dinner chatter.

"Get the glasses and Sassicai's wine from the cellar." my dear "mother," Felicia commands me, and I go downstairs immediately to get the wine and the glasses.

I return as quickly as possible and pour the glasses to bring them to the table.

Years of practice have made me a good waitress, but today, I made another mistake.

I approached an older man, obese and with a strong smell of tobacco.

I learned from the conversation that he is "Daddy's" boss.

I tried harder to serve him, but as I lowered the glass to put it in front of him, I stumbled over something under the table.

In slow motion, I see the wine spill onto his white shirt.

"Ah, Mr. Bishop!" Felicia screams, putting her hands over her mouth.

Snap!

The glass falls to the floor and shatters.

I am extremely nervous, trembling with fear. I see a foot with a black heel quickly hiding as I look down.

My eyes meet Mikaela's sarcastic ones; she did it on purpose.

BAM!

A loud thud lands on the table, making me jump.

"You're so useless; you can only pour wine if you make a mess!"

"I... sir, I didn't do it on purpose... it... was..." I look sideways at Mikaela doubtfully, but I'd only be an idiot if I told the truth; no one would believe me.

"Esteban, let's not do this. It's silly, and it could happen to anyone. Come on, girl, stop trembling." The man speaks thickly, and I look into his dark eyes, watching me intently.

For some reason, the bile I had controlled was stirring in me again.

"Take me to the bathroom to clean up, and that's it," he adds, getting up from the table with his heavy body.

"Come on! What are you waiting for? Come with Mr. Bishop."

I am ordered by my "father," as I can only call him in front of the people who are convenient for him, like the social workers.

"This way...this way." I point to the man and go to lead him.

I feel his intense gaze on my back.

I don't like this man; he gives me an awful feeling, so I try to escape his presence quickly.

"This is the bathroom; you can use it. "I point to the narrow guest bathroom, ready to slip away.

"You're not going to leave me like this, are you? Without even helping me after defending yourself at the table... at least help me remove the stain."

He grabbed me by my thin arm with a force that hurt without letting go, almost dragging me inside.

"If you leave me the shirt, I can take it quickly," I ask him, trying not to be cornered.

But this bathroom is tiny, and his vast body blocks the door, which suddenly closes.

"What are you doing?" I ask him alertly.

"Take off my shirt; you don't think I'm going out naked, do you?"

His yellow-stained teeth give me a strange smile, and his dark eyes look me up and down.

He removes his white shirt and exposes his entire torso with overflowing fat and gray chest hair.

I grab the shirt from his hands and walk the two steps to the sink, turning on the faucet.

The wine stain will not come out by rubbing, even if it leaves my skin.

"Please wait a second; I'll use it to spray an anti-stain liquid."

I desperately try to move towards the exit, but I've only taken one step when I feel his presence above me.

"I know very well why you made all this theater; what did you want to get my attention?"

His rancid breath hits my nose and makes me sick to my stomach, his body next to mine and behind me, the sink.

"Stay away, sir, I don't know... What are you talking about? I don't..."

"Oh no, don't play innocent with me, maid, and be happy that I'm horny today; you're very ugly. On a typical day, I wouldn't even look at you. How much do you want for a quick f*ck here in the bathroom? I think 50 dollars is more than enough."

"If you don't back off, I will scream!"

I'm angry as he pulls a wallet out of his pants.

AMALIA

"Well, make it 70, but you shut up and get on your knees to keep your mouth better occupied."

He tells me and pulls out some bills that he throws at me.

I feel anger like never before, and I try to push him away, but apparently, I'm no match for him.

"Let me go! Help me…!

But he forcibly slams his mouth into mine, preventing me from screaming, grabbing my chin so hard that tears of pain come to my eyes.

I struggle between his arms that hold me like a shackle, his filthy body rubbing against mine.

His thick saliva flooded my mouth as he stuck his huge tongue in. I want to bite him, but the grip on my jaw prevents me from closing my mouth.

The urge to vomit returns as I feel his hands groping my body, trying to get inside my skirt and tugging at my shirt.

I feel dizzy and weak. My resistance is diminishing.

It can't be my God! It can't be that I'm being r*p*d in this house, and no one cares!

Even if I screamed, n