Healing the Ruthless Alpha novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55

He caught up with me. Of course, he caught up with me. He was the hunter and I was the prey. There was no outrunning a hunter as skilled as Cahir Armani. “Stay.” The command that fell from his lips – the words that fell from his lips, they were not his. The voice wasn’t his!

My eyes darted all over the place in search of an exit but I ended up looking directly at an unmoving body – the corpse of a man who he slaughtered in less than a minute! I wrestled as he grabbed me, my heart beating an erratic staccato. Even Asena wanted to run as fast and as far away from him as possible.

“Stay!” I heard a gnashing of teeth as my body went still at the Alpha’s command. “God dammit, you’re causing a lot of trouble!” He shouted, still clutching me to him, my back to his front. How voice had returned to normal but I didn’t think I could ever be normal again. Not after I discovered this. Everyone said Cahir Armani was a ruthless killing machine, they called him a blood-hungry monster but no one actually knew – he was a rogue! “Just – Just -” I shivered. Tears fell freely from my eyes as my lips quivered. The urge to run started back again, strong enough to override the Alpha’s command that kept me in place.

There were men – wolves that lost hold of their wolves, that could no longer control themselves so their animalistic side took over and lead them to destruction. They were the ones who had golden eyes. They were the ones warriors hunted, the ones all packs protected their members against.

Rogues were rabid animals that could no longer think straight and could no longer shift into human form. Their most glaring traits were their golden eyes and bloodlust. They were hunted animals, not Alphas!

“Let’s go to your room and talk.” He hefted me off the ground and carried me back up the stair, no doubt following my scent to my hotel room. I went still in his arms, curving into myself to make myself smaller. Goddess, I knew this man was dangerous – but I never considered just how dangerous he was or could be.

He got into the room and let me go. I flopped into my bed with my mouth frozen open and my eyes stinging from an inability to blink.

“You -” I pointed a shaky finger at him. It was rude to point at a person and a sign of disrespect and even a challenge to an Alpha, but my senses were fried. I couldn’t think straight. The only thing on my mind – the only thing I could think of – was – HOW!?

“You’re a rogue,” I exclaimed. His eyes flashed red for a split second.

“Never repeat that. Ever.” His tone held a strong warning that had me nodding my head and swallowing at the same time. “I am not a rogue,” he said and again, I nodded.

He had the eyes of a rogue. Although it was the first time I saw it, I recognized them but he wasn’t a rogue, that much I could say, because rogues could not shift back to their human forms. Rogues could not control their bloodlust and they sure as hell did not lead packs!

“I -” He pursed his lips. “I never wanted you to see me like that.” Silence rang in the room after that – No, wait, it was my ears ringing from all the screaming I did in the parking lot.

“What – Your eyes -” I wrapped my hands around myself as a shiver wracked through my spine. My lips sunk into my bottom lip while I trembled from head to toe from a sudden cold that seemed to freeze me up from the inside, working its way into my heart and squeezing with a vice grip.

“As most people already know,” he started in a low voice that I had to strain my ears to catch, “I was taken as a child and tortured for eight years and without the threads of a pack

or a mate holding me down, I almost tipped over. When I got my wolf my eyes started to change and I -” He took in a deep breath and let it out from his mouth, shaking his head in what I interpreted as annoyance. “Between the age of eighteen and twenty, before I channelled the feral anger licking through my blood and burning me from within, every second of each day, my wolf deteriorated more and more. I heard voices in my head – telling me to do things – hurt people. I put the feral urges to good use in my quest for vengeance.” The words falling from his mouth were rushed out in a low whisper so I had to strain my ears and concentrate on every word that escaped his lips.

Tortured for eight years. I could only imagine what his eyes had seen and how much it must have broken him. Scars decorated his skin – scars that would never heal – scars that told a story he never wanted to voice out. I’d seen them, I’d even traced them on some nights, wondering if I would ever get to hear the stories behind them.

My mate was broken – this strong and intimidating man was broken to the point where he could not control himself sometimes. What did that feel like? How did he live knowing with every provocation, a dangerous part of himself could be let loose for the world to see? Was that Was that the reason he never showed himself to the public?

“Don’t look at me like that.” Harsh words cut into my thoughts.