The Alpha's Gamble - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Madeline
My head was pounding like a symphony of drums when I turned in bed, woken up by the industrial vacuum that someone was shoving around to undo yesterday’s mess. Glasses were shattering, windows banging open and footsteps pacing around the bottom floor. I still couldn’t open my eyes, the light coming in from the hall made them water instantly and I swear, if I were to sit up right now, I’d throw up food I hadn’t even eaten.
Yesterday was a little excessive, I won’t lie. But it worked until I fell asleep, my mind was quiet, the demons were disguised as subtle breezes that swooshed through my head, and it was peaceful. And then I don’t remember much. Somewhere between the ninth cup and a bottle of scotch, I started losing track and the memories were hazy. I somehow got into bed, thank God for that and I didn’t see Landon when I woke up which made me relax but the dreams were the same. The dreams were always the same.
“Ugh,” I pulled the cover over my head and made the prompt decision to stay in bed for the rest of the day. You know when you don’t feel like talking, walking, or breathing for a while? That’s what this was. Just when I closed my eyes and felt myself drifting off into a hungover haze, someone within earshot started drilling into the walls. Who the hell dared to use a torture machine like that this early? Aren’t there laws prohibiting this type of shit? Also, bear in mind that my hearing was heightened to an extreme, and so was my hangover. It was a good recipe for murder.
My eyes shot open, I sat up straight in the bed and looked at the man in a green vest with protective goggles removing my door.
“What-“ I started and tossed the cover aside.
Who in the world of the living drilled in a house the morning after a party? Someone came up behind him and surveyed the door being lifted out into the hall.
Noah stood in the doorframe, his black t-shirt lifted when he stretched his arm to assess the damage on the wall and I followed the contours of his lower abs, down the V that disappeared under his jeans.
He turned his head, his eyes shielded by whatever wall he’d put up to keep me out and he scanned my face, leaving warm traces across my skin. It didn’t take a genius to know that he didn’t want me here. Me or my mother. Noah could hide a lot but not the anger, so you could imagine how strong it was behind his eyes and lingering on his face whenever he looked our way.
“Get ready, we’re leaving in twenty.” He was about to turn the corner.
I laughed dryly and sunk into the bed.
“No,” I said and winced when the man started that fucking drill up again. Not a lot of things made me murderous, I had a pretty well-established control over my anger as most werewolves did, we had to, but right now, I swear to god I wanted to take that drill and drive it through his skull.
Noah stopped, his back tensed and a lock of hair fell over his eyes when he turned back. A lingering hard gaze- he lowered his walls little by little and the anger doubled, then tripled as his eyes turned obsidian.
His shoulders nearly reached each side of the doorframe when he stepped through, the worker stopped drilling, watching Noah who was paying him no mind and he slowly put the drill down and flickered his eyes over me warily as he left the room.
But despite his large frame and the way he was stalking toward me, I wasn’t scared or intimidated, maybe it was the alcohol still running through my system or the headache brought on by that incessant ear-twisting noise, but I was not in the mood to be ordered around.
“Did I mistakenly make that sound like a question?” his voice, however, sent a creepy chill down my chest, and I leaned back, but I didn’t look away. I’d call that a win. I hated the way he was looking at me, the way his brows furrowed, causing his eyes to narrow like he was watching something disgusting. He was watching me, and it was clear that he didn’t like what he was seeing. This was the future of our pack, and it baffled me how low a leader could go because of the power he held.
Or maybe it’s just with me that his hatred is so obvious.
“Get dressed. Eat breakfast. And meet me by the door in twenty minutes.” He stood by the bed, his knees pushing against the frame and he towered over me to make me feel smaller than I already did.
Imagine a large shadow covering a mouse and glaring like it was about to be crushed under his foot. Asshole.
“Where are we going?” I asked through a clenched jaw.
He remained stoic and his words were monosyllabic.
“You’ll see.”
Noah left and the worker poked his head in and scanned me with pity before he took up the drill and continued his work on the door.
I got dressed, all the while thinking about what I was getting myself into. What they were getting me into. But I wouldn’t be forced to help them if it hadn't been for Landon and the sex tape which wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t had sex with him- so technically it’s still my fault.
And I fucked him after I saw him with another girl.
I pressed the heel of my palm against my forehead, the numerous bad decisions I’d made played like a crappy movie in my mind and I loathed the fact that I couldn’t blame anyone else.
I looked in the mirror, a bland mix of self-hatred and dark eyes bathed in demons stared back at me.
The elastic tights I wore snatched my waist and licked my hips and I put a long sleeve over my sports bra to cover up.
This would do for whatever fucked up plan they had set in motion.