In the Alpha’s Arms

November

One month later…

Time didn’t fly, it was slow, and it was tortuous, Lita healed quickly, to the surprise of everyone, but her mind took longer than her body. Dr. Morgani had kept a close eye on her, checking in every few days. And even though he gave her a green light to return to normal activity, Lita hadn’t gone back to any gym sessions.

Was she avoiding Cole? After the disastrous dinner with Erica, of course she is, but only partially, because it was mainly her mind that kept her locked up tight. Lita had lost her parents and her tenonizer in the same day the two most concrete parts of her life. She should have been ecstatic, she should have enjoyed her freedom, instead, she felt crushing insecurity. What would happen now that she’d lost everything she ever know? It was exactly what she’d wanted and yet she hadn’t prepared for that dream to actually come true. Her options were limitless, and she was finally free, so why did she feel more trapped than ever?

During the day, when she was avoiding the gym and refusing to leave the female dorms, Lita did her schoolwork. She studied and completed her assignments. Thankfully, the instructors had accepted the letter from Dr. Morgan that claimed she was on medical leave for the rest of the semester due to a traumatic injury. Her professors had sent their well wishes and provided her with an emailed list of assignments to complete online.

If only they know how much she relied on those tasks to stay sane. Otherwise, Lita would obsess over everything else. Werewolves. Mates. James. Her mother sending scathing texts about where all Lita’s money had gone. Or leaving voicemails full of her Alpha tone, demanding Lita come home immediately. Diane didn’t seem to realize that she was ensuring Lita stayed exactly where she was.

There was no real reason to leave anyway. None of the men minded that she was living in the dorms, and she could care less if it bothered Cole; he deserved to be miserable for a long while. Lita always transferred her split of the grocery money for the bi–weekly shopping trips and Stace always offered to pick up extra feminine care products when she went out.

Lita wanted to leave. She really did. She wanted to start living this new life she’d bought herself and yet… fear of the unknown consumed her.

In what Stace called a minor setback, Lita had gone back to wearing her favorite oversized clothes, hiding herself physically in the same way she was hiding mentally. Lita knew it wasn’t the best sign of her emotional health, but at least she was eating at every meal. Even if those meals happened her room alone, far away from that dining room table and that impossible Alpha. Not that he cared to ask how she was doing either way.

And the others seemed to be content with her appetite. When she stumbled upon them in the packhouse kitchen, Mark and Andres had both commented on her fuller cheeks and brighter complexion. Lita’s dark hair was another matter altogether, hanging long and unkempt around her face, the burgundy ends looking dull and lifeless. She couldn’t find the energy to care. At least she was hanging with Stace and Jaz, who slept over most of the week, but good company could only go so far when it came to healing.

Lita’s phone chimed, the sudden sound making her jump. It happened every night. For the first time though, Lita slid the notification to silent without checking it, and she supposed that was progress. She looked at the clock, blinking as she read the time. Midnight. Twelve–oh–one. Twelve–oh–two,

The phone buzzed long enough to tell her it was a phone call, and then two quick buzzes told her whoever it was left a voicemail as well. She closed her eyes, snuggling herself deeper into bed. The soft sheets and fluffy comforter helped soothe some of the anxiety. Her thoughts turned to the

comfortable room.

If there was one thing she could say about the compound, it was that nothing on the inside ever matched the outside. The female dorms, for instance, were situated across from the packhouse where the men slept, and to hear Stare tell it, living with the men was a fate worse than death. So, after James died, she’d commandeered the building across the street and Cole was forced to relent. On the outside, it was covered in mossy growth and rusty water stains from the few calcified rebar poles Lita could see under the crumbled facing. But inside, the building was dry and warm. On the main floor, the living area was even cozier than the packhouse, with plush furniture and fuzzy rugs, Stace hung thick curtains that blocked the sun and Lita

On the second Boor, there were a number of rooms but only three had been renovated: Stace’s, the one Jaz used when she stayed over, and a guest room that had become Eita’s room. The phone buzzed again, a rapid succession of sounds that told her someone was sending text after test.

thought back to the first time it had happened and the swell of emotions that ran through her. Slowly, those feelings were tempering, and she relished the strength she felt each time she went through the messages. Pain over hurt the

And yet, like terrible car crash, she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t stop herself from checking because she had to

1/3

November

after Cole spirited her away it was strange to think that asshole was the same man that refused to leave her in a bad situation. The man she saw in her bathroom doorway, the one who looked liable to murder

wouldn’t do her any good trying to understand why men were always trying to hurt her. A better use of her time.

Dead of all location and tracking information since she came to Cole’s pack grounds–thanks to Mark, who turned out to be a tech whiz–Lita could use her phone as she normally would. And for some reason that Stace, Jaz and even Lita herself couldn’t understand no matter how many

part of herself needed to know that he was sorry and suffering, or at least claimed to be. She needed to sit in the emotions he made her feel. She needed

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some toxic part of her needed

rage was as consuming as the clarity she gained after she shot a response text off. But not only that, in her secret heart, she knew she also craved his attention. She always had. His desire, whether real or imagined, made her

she’d

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She read the message:

man can want a women. I know I hurt you, but I’ve charged. Not all of my behavior was in my control, baby, I wouldn’t never want to drive you away I

Just one more time. I never

in waves. She was angry with him for hurting her, for manipulating her, for not knowing where the line between consent and rape was. And yet, knowing all that, feeling all that, the small part of Lita that looked up to him, relied on him, loved him, ached for her to find forgiveness in her heart. That small piece of her wanted

breathing turned shallow. He was

to nose his way into the upper echelon of the pack And he and his father had used her parents to secure that for himself. Something about being a pawn in a politcal game made Lita want to cry. It was like none of

ever came from those spirals. Lita thumbed the screen and typed instead, trying to find the words

I hate

I despise you in every way a woman can hate her rapist and abuser. I know you hurt me because some part of you enjoyed it, and I don’t care if you think you’ve changed. I’m done taking the blame for you and I’m done letting you gaslight me. From the bottom of my heart, I hope your dick falls off and you get an incurable disease. I hope every miserable

the bed. It felt

meds, Lita had to get creative in dealing with her emotions. They flared constantly and sometimes that meant, expressing them just so they’d pass. Dr. Morgan said the meds were probably keeping her underweight and exhausted on top of suppressing

the gym like she always did

and Jaz’s, which was not. She cringed as she tried not to hear the low, small sounds between her and “Whoever was in the bed too. Lita was used to it by now and the longer she went

fun. Why be ashamed of doing the exact same thing the men were doing? And if Lita was being honest with herself, it had been a long time since she felt anything close to climax during sex. Downstairs, she walked past the rest of