The Alpha's Revenge
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All her life, Gisella Odette has been running from an unknown force her father feared with their lives. Until one atrocious night she's taken. Lost and troubled, she finds herself in the arms of a daunting man who hates her with his guts and won't stop until she has known pain. Hades Desmond Vilkas is a man of vengeance. Scarred by his agonizing past, he is set out to inflict torment into the one's soul that wrecked havoc in his perfect childhood. But there's more to their story than what meets the eye. Lies are revealed. Secrets uncover. Will Hades be able to leash his inner beast and recognize his one true soulmate before fate carries him through the same deprivation again, or will he fall prey to his own demons?
A loud pounding on the door woke me up in the middle of the night.
Squinting my eyes open, I turned on the lamp on my bedside table and glanced at the clock.
It was 2:45 in the morning.
Who could that be at this late?
The pounding increased, sending a shiver crawling down my back. My heartbeat raised, and fear gripped my soul as I got out of the bed. In cautious steps, I approached the front door and grabbed the baseball bat.
"Wh-Who's that?" I asked.
No reply came.
"If you don't speak, I'm not opening the door," I threatened.
The banging stopped suddenly, making me frown.
I waited for a few more seconds, but nothing happened.
Maybe they were bored and gone.
Putting down the bat, I let out a sigh of relief, my hand habitually going to the necklace in my neck.
What the hell? Did someone prank? Could be those idiotic neighboring teens. Perhaps avenging their lost dignity for being bullies which I revealed to their parents.
Looked like they preferred another round of lesson teaching.
Shaking my head, I turned around when a jingling sound perked my ears. Whipping around, I glanced at the door lock to see it moving.
A chilling sensation ran through my heart as my eyes widened. With shaky hands I raised the bat in my hands again and stood there.
If I died tonight, I'd make sure to go down with a fight.
The lock clicked, and my grip tightened around my weapon. Just as the door opened, I charged forward with a battle cry.
"Ella!" My father's voice stopped me in my tracks, right before the bat hit his shiny bald head.
"Papa?" I squealed, shocked. "What is this? Why were you-" I stopped mid-sentence, finally noticing the worried look on his face. His bushy brows were drawn together while his brown eyes seemed to hold the pressure of the whole universe. "Papa, what's wrong? Is everything okay?"
Putting down the bat, I rushed towards him, only for him to push past me inside. "Pack everything you need. We're leaving," he said, rushing to my room.
"What?" I blinked. I thought I didn't hear him right.
"There's no time, Elle. Bag only the things we need. We're moving right now."
"Again? At this hour?"
I couldn't believe this was happening again. All my life since I could remember, we had been running from some invisible threat that my father refused to disclose to me. No matter how hard I tried to find out, he'd try even harder to block the opportunities.
There was even one time when I eavesdropped to his and uncle Ryan's conversation, but somehow that memory disappeared from my mind like it never happened. Everytime I tried to remember, I came out blank. I couldn't remember even a word from that moment.
"No," I uttered. "I'm not moving a muscle until I know what we are running from. You have to answer me this time."
"Ella, this is not the time."
"It is, Papa! I'm tired, okay? I'm tired of running from one place to another like I got no roots."
He stopped doing what he was doing and stared at me for a second. My expression must have been concerning because he let out a sigh and walked to me. Holding my cheeks in his warm palms, he looked me in the eye.
"Okay. Ok, I'll tell you this time. But not right now. We've to hurry up, darling. Please."
The pleading look of my father and the intense fear behind it, melted my heart, and I nodded.
Rushing to my bedroom, I pulled out two bags from the drawers and handed one to him. While he bagged foods and necessary items from the kitchen, I packed my clothes and sanitary necessities. Padding to the south wall of my small bedroom, I took the photoframe of my mother and stuffed it inside as well.
Unintentionally, a tear rolled down my eyes. It's been nineteen years since she died in that treacherous night. It was the last day I slept sound like a baby. That was the last day of our lives being normal.
Everything changed since then. I saw my father breaking little by little without his beloved before my very eyes. He even picked up drinking habits, gradually developing kidney diseases.
"Are you done?" Papa hurried inside with a loaded bag and began dragging me out with him. Stopping, he grabbed our jackets and gave mine to me. "Here. Put this on. This is going to be a long cold night."
Exiting the house, the first thing that caught my eyes were the white fluffiness that landed on my coat, melting gradually. A thin blanket of whiteness covered the whole neighborhood.
I didn't even notice when it snowed. It was a rare thing in the month of May to snow in Chicago, considering it began to feel the heat of summer already.
As Papa halted the car before me, I took one last look at the house and its surroundings. The peng that set its paws on my heart since the word move out left Papa's mouth, moderately spread throughout my veins to my stomach. I suddenly felt sick.
How many more times would I have to settle into a place only to get up and leave everything behind the next moment? How many more people would I have to befriend only to forget them the next day?
I was tired, no, downright exhausted.
"Come on, Elle. Hurry up."
With a heavy sigh, I climbed into the car and let the tear drop.
When would my life ever be normal?
The next half an hour I stayed silent while papa drove through the dark forest-road, yelling at his phone from time to time. Whatever it was that kept my father at his toes all the time, it must be something terrifying, something that haunted even a grown man in his nightmares.
I always imagined it was a monster. An ugly monster with red eyes, long, sharp teeth and two horns, that could impale your soul at its slightest glare.
But then it was merely my teenage assumption. Monsters weren't real. They only existed in books and nightmares.
"It'll be okay, my darling. I promise you."
Papa's comforting voice snatched my attention towards him. He had placed a hand over my shaking ones, sending me a look of pity and apology. The sense of helplessness behind those emotions didn't manage to escape my attention. I could see just how upset he was as well to repeat the same process again and again.
Sighing, I sent him a tiny smile of understanding through the sadness. "I trust you, Papa."
His smile resembled mine. He opened his mouth to say something when from the corner of our vision, something dark and enormous flashed right across the road.
Both our heads whipped forward, and I think I saw the color from my father's face receding.
"What was that?" I asked, my eyes widened.
"N-Nothing," he said, before accelerating the car.
"P-Papa?" I sank into my seat, clutching the fabric tight, my heartbeat raising. "Papa, slow down. What are you doing? The road is slippery."
He didn't reply, nor did he slow down. His knuckles were turning white from how tight he was holding the wheel as though he was frightened out of his skull.
It could just be a wild animal.
'Or the Monster,' the voice at the back of my head spoke.
No. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't real.
Over the sound of the roaring engine, something else caught my ears, something bone-chilling.
A ferocious growl.
It was such high-pitched, it managed to pierce through the other sounds, dominating those.
What animal could that be?
A lion? A jaguar even?
But there lived none of those in these woods in the first place.
I turned to my father. "Papa, what is it?"
Again, no reply.
"You know what this is, don't you? Tell me."
This time, he gazed at me, his eyes strained with fear. "Darling, know that no matter what happens, papa will always protect y-"
He didn't even get to finish his words, before something hit our car in the back, forcing it off the track.
I watched with horror as my body swept to the window. The tires screeched against the asphalt as the car swiveled round and round.
Everything seemed to slow down as I saw my death and possibly my father's, dangling before my very eyes.
Then I saw it.
The reddish-gold eyes.
Like two saprkling rubies on fire, glaring from the cracks of the woods.
I didn't even hear my scream, nor my father's as everything around suddenly lost the touch of gravity, flipping in the air before me.
Finally coming to a cease.
I felt something warm trickling down my skull as a ringing sound buzzed through my ears. My hands proceeded to move, feeling no valor in them. The smell of gasoline mixed with burnt rubber almost sent me in the verge of choking.
"Papa," I whispered.
I tried to open my eyes, my vision too blurred to make out the upside down world outside.
"Papa?" I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a rush of air.
I was afraid something happened to him, yet I couldn't help.
I coerced my eyes to open wider, but black dots began to appear in my vision as I felt myself fading.
No, no, no...
Right before everything went dark, the blood-curdling scream of my father echoed throughout the air.
Followed by a gun shot.
My eyes fluttered open only to shut back from the sharp pain the bright light caused.
Gosh, Papa, why did you uncover the curtains this early?
Groaning, I turned the other way when a worse pain shot through my whole body, making a squeak escape my lips. My head hammered like it would burst anytime.
I shot up to a sitting position, clutching my head till the ache subsided by a fraction.
That was when I felt it. The bandage wrapped around my head.
My brows furrowed as I finally noticed my surrounding. Squinting, I took a glance around. A white themed room with minimal furniture and a huge glass window at one side.
Where was I? I couldn't recognize this place.
And what happened to me? Why couldn't I remember?
My eyes widened as one by one the memories from last night began to replay in my head.
The move out.
The gun shot...
"Papa. Papa!" I called, casting th
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