Alpha's Dark Desires-Chapter 118: Little Wolf

ELENA’S POV:

The kitchen was dimly lit, the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. I stood there, sipping juice, trying to shake off the tension from the day. Suddenly, arms snaked around my waist, pulling me into a firm embrace. I stiffened, expecting to hear Kane’s soothing voice.

But what I heard instead made my blood run cold.

"Why are you resisting me, little wolf?" a husky whisper tickled my ear, laced with menace. My breath caught. Kane never called me little wolf.

I froze, dread washing over me like icy water as the realization struck. This wasn’t Kane. It was Dean.

I tried to twist out of his hold, to shove him off, but my limbs felt like lead, unresponsive to my commands. A sickening thought struck me—had he drugged me? Was it the juice I had just drank? Panic surged through me, but I was trapped, unable to fight back.

His hand slid up to push my hair aside, exposing my neck. "You smell divine," he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin. "The pulse in your vein... it’s calling to me. Tempting me to have just one bite."

A shiver of horror rippled through me as his mouth descended on my neck, teasing the sensitive skin with soft nibbles. And yet, to my shame and utter terror, my body betrayed me. A shudder of... something foreign, electric, coursed through me, pooling heat where I least wanted it.

"See?" His voice was velvet-wrapped steel, triumphant. "Even your body knows the truth. I am your mate, too. Why do you resist it?"

I wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, to shove him away, but the paralysis held me captive. My body wasn’t my own, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I hated this. I hated him. And I hated myself for the way I reacted to his touch.

"You know I wouldn’t hurt you," he continued, his tone now deceptively soft, dripping with false sincerity. "That bastard is lying to you. Why would I hurt my beloved?"

As if to prove his point, he pressed his lips to the crook of my neck and shoulder, the sensation sending a fresh wave of conflicting emotions crashing through me. The tears spilled over, hot and unstoppable, streaking down my cheeks.

Dean turned me around then, his unnatural strength making resistance futile. The kitchen’s darkness seemed to deepen, his predatory gaze cutting through the gloom as he tilted my chin up with a finger. His eyes glinted like a predator toying with its prey.

"Shh," he cooed mockingly, leaning closer, his tongue flicking out to catch the tears trailing down my cheek. "Don’t cry, little wolf. At least, not these kinds of tears."

His grin widened, wicked and cruel, and for a moment, I swore I saw the faint gleam of fangs. "I want you," he said, his voice dripping with dark promise. "And I’m going to have you. Sooner or later, you’ll see. You’ll accept it."

I shook my head weakly, trembling with a cocktail of fear and fury. His grip tightened just enough to send a chill of helplessness through me.

"It’s just a matter of how long you want to keep pretending," he whispered, leaning in so close that his breath ghosted over my lips. "The truth is in your blood, little wolf. And I’ll remind you of it... every chance I get."

With that, he released me abruptly, my body sagging against the counter as he stepped back, his wicked grin still in place. Then, like a shadow, he melted into the darkness, leaving me trembling and terrified, my tears falling silently onto the cold tile floor.

"The truth is in your blood, little wolf. And I’ll remind you of it... every chance I get," Dean whispered, his voice curling around me like a noose. My heart pounded erratically, my breath shallow as if the room itself conspired to suffocate me.

Then, with a sickening smirk, he leaned back slightly, his eyes boring into mine. "It’s time for me to leave," he said, his tone light, almost casual. But then his expression darkened, a cruel glint lighting up his features. "But I can’t go without giving you something to remember me by."

Before I could process his words, his hand curled around my neck, firm but not enough to choke. His other hand gently gripped my chin, tilting my face upward. My panic surged as his predatory gaze locked with mine, a silent promise of dominance and control.

I tried to move, to jerk away from his grasp, to claw at him—anything—but my body refused to obey me. My arms remained limp at my sides, my legs frozen as though shackled by invisible chains. Even my voice, my one potential weapon, failed me. All I could do was let the hot, angry tears stream down my cheeks, their silent trail betraying the terror I felt inside.

"Shh," he murmured mockingly, his thumb brushing over my jaw as if soothing a frightened child. "Don’t cry. This isn’t something to fear. It’s something to accept."

He leaned in slowly, deliberately, his lips descending on mine. The kiss was shockingly gentle—so soft, so tender, that it felt like a mockery. It was a kiss meant to fool me into believing it was born of affection, not possession. It stood in stark contrast to the cold, ruthless way he’d manhandled me moments ago.

My tears mingled with his kiss, a salty testament to my silent battle against the storm raging inside me. He pressed against me like I was a delicate piece of glass that might shatter with too much pressure. But that gentleness was worse than force—it was a calculated move to sow confusion, to make me question everything I thought I knew.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes softened ever so slightly, though his smirk remained firmly in place. He tilted my face up further and planted a chaste kiss on my forehead, as if sealing some dark promise.

"Don’t forget, little wolf," he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper laced with danger. "You’re mine too."

Suddenly, the world around me seemed to shift. My vision blurred, the edges of my reality fraying as though I were waking from a dream—or a nightmare. The room spun, and just as abruptly as the paralysis had taken me, it released me.

I gasped awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, my chest heaving. My body was slick with sweat, my pulse thundering in my ears. But it wasn’t just me—I wasn’t alone. Someone was hovering over me, their hands gripping my shoulders as they tried to steady me.

"Elena, wake up!" The voice was frantic, filled with concern. "It’s me. Wake up, love!"

I flinched instinctively, my hands flying out to shove the figure away. My body was no longer frozen, and adrenaline surged through me as if making up for all the helplessness I’d just endured. "Don’t touch me!" I snarled, my voice trembling with fury and fear as tears continued to streak my face.

The figure stumbled back slightly but didn’t retreat fully. "Elena, it’s me—it’s Kane!" His voice broke with urgency. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace, then held out his wrist, revealing the intricate tattoo of the wolf howling at the moons with my name etched into it.

The sight of it froze me in place. That tattoo was the lifeline I clung to, the one thing I could use to separate my mate from the monster who shared his face. My breath hitched as I stared at it, and slowly, the fog of panic began to lift.

"It’s me," he repeated, his voice soft but insistent. "Your Kane."

The dam broke, and I collapsed into him, sobbing uncontrollably. My arms wrapped around his neck, clutching him as if he were the only solid thing in a crumbling world. His warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek—it all anchored me, pulling me back from the abyss.

"I’m here," he murmured, his hands stroking my back in soothing circles. "I’ve got you, love. You’re safe now." freewebnoveℓ.com

For a long moment, neither of us said anything. I just clung to him, pouring all my fear, my confusion, and my anger into the embrace. And he held me, grounding me in a way only he could.

After I calmed down, cradled in bed with Kane—my real Kane—he brushed his fingers gently through my hair, his touch soothing the lingering tremors in my body. His steady heartbeat against my cheek was a comforting rhythm, a stark contrast to the chaotic whirl of thoughts in my head.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I stiffened slightly but shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. "I don’t want to talk about it," I said finally, my voice hoarse from crying.

Kane studied me for a moment, his gaze searching mine. Then, with a nod, he said, "Okay. It’s over. It was just a bad dream."

I nodded against his chest, letting the lie hang in the air between us. But I knew it wasn’t just a dream. It had felt so real, so terrifyingly vivid, like Dean had been right there with me in the kitchen. I could still feel the phantom weight of his hands on me, the way his breath had brushed against my skin, and even now, my lips tingled faintly where his had pressed against them.

If it was a nightmare, then it was the cruelest my mind had ever conjured. But deep down, I didn’t believe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Somehow, Dean had been there—his presence, his words, his touch—it was too real to dismiss.

But what good would it do to tell Kane? He already had enough to deal with when it came to Dean. After the stunt his darker half had pulled earlier, pretending to be Kane to deceive me, the last thing I wanted was to pile more stress onto his shoulders. He didn’t need to know that even in the safety of our bed, Dean had found a way to haunt me.

Kane tightened his arms around me, kissing the top of my head as if sensing my lingering distress. "I’m here," he said softly. "Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone."

His words brought fresh tears to my eyes, but I blinked them away, burying my face against him. For now, I would let him think it was just a nightmare. For now, I would hold onto the comfort he offered, even as the shadows of Dean’s presence lingered at the edges of my mind.

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