Rejected Slave To The Alpha by Gory Anna

Chapter 19

Chapter 19
Chapter 19.
Nelly’s POV.
I heard the bathroom door creak open, and my heart stopped. I turned around, my body frozen in terror. Alpha Kex was standing there, his eyes filled with a fury I’d never seen before. He took one step, then another, coming closer to me with each stride.
I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the spot, unable to run or scream or do anything to defend myself. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing quickening. My entire body felt numb, as if it had been enveloped in ice. And yet, underneath it all, there was a fire burning in my heart.
He grabbed me, his strong hands wrapping around my arms. I thrashed and fought against him, but he was too strong.
“Let me go!” I screamed, but my words were lost in the thundering of my heart.
I kept fighting, my fists raining down on his back, my legs kicking out at him, but he didn’t react. He just kept walking, carrying me like I was a rag doll. I could barely breathe, my chest heaving with every labored breath.
He released his grip and I fell to the bed, the mattress soft beneath me. I looked up at him, my body trembling, my mind racing with fear. He was staring at me, his eyes cold and unreadable.
“Undress,” he said, his voice low and calm.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as I reached for the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head, my movements slow. I turned my back to him, my hands shaking as I began to unzip my pants.

I could hear him breathing, the sound slow and steady, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
He rose from the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the wardrobe. I watched, my mind reeling with questions, as he opened the door and reached inside. He pulled out a first aid kit, and my stomach sank.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice cracking with fear.
He turned to look at me, a strange, distant expression on his face. “What does it look
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Chapter 19
like I’m doing?” he replied, his tone flat and emotionless.
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I tried to speak, but my words stuck in my throat. I could feel my pulse in my temples, my heart racing.
“Lie down,” he said, his voice calm and authoritative. I complied, my limbs heavy and weak, my limbs aching as I lay on the bed. He kneeled beside me, opening the first aid kit and removing a pair of tweezers and an antiseptic wipe.
“This is going to sting,” he warned, but I didn’t respond.
I kept my eyes closed, my mind spinning. He began to clean the cuts and scrapes on my skin, and I bit back a scream as the alcohol stung my wounds. I could feel my heart beating in my ears, the sound nearly deafening.
“You make me do things I would rather not do,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with
anger.
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