Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 115: Who Knows the Future?

Emily woke uneasy, yesterday’s dark yandere visions haunting her like stubborn fog—snapped legs locked forever, pitch-black rooms echoing obsessive kisses and chains—turning her breakfast bland and heavy, every bite lodging like stone in her throat.

Physio waited as her grim daily anchor, the lone thread tethering her against total mental undoing.

’What will happen if these three turn into full yanderes? Will I turn into an angst-themed heroine?’

Mia arrived sharp at 10 AM, scrubs neat and crisp, ponytail bouncing high as she unrolled thick blue mats across the sunny therapy room floor. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

She hauled in bright resistance bands, foam blocks, parallel bars, a wobble board, therapy ball, light pedal exerciser, small hand weights, and a balance cushion.

"Hey, Emily—morning. You look like you had a rough night. Bad dreams or something? Come on, let’s get those legs moving a bit. Even small stuff adds up, you know?"

’Why is she so optimistic? I feel like her career should have been different.’

Emily wheeled in wearing her sleek black sports bra—snug and supportive over full chest—and loose gray sweatpants bunching limp at her ankles. Raven hair sat in a messy bun, pink nails drumming the armrests fast and nervous, emerald eyes dulled by fatigue and lurking shadows.

She said, "Slept like crap, Mia. Head’s all over the place. These legs? Dead weight. No tingles, no nothing—just dragging logs."

"Yeah, that’s pretty normal this early in. Nerves take their sweet time waking up, like any muscle starting from scratch," Mia said easy, helping her onto the mat with extra pillows for back support. "Let’s start simple—sit up tall, shoulders loose, core on. There you go. Now passive stretches—breathe nice and deep."

She took Emily’s right leg firm but gentle, lifting for a straight leg raise to 30 degrees then knee bend smooth to 90, holding 20 seconds—no pain, full easy motion. Ankle rolled slow circles both ways, toes flopping limp.

"Looking good—no stiffness creeping in. Left side now, same thing." Left leg mirrored perfect: smooth range, no voluntary kick from Emily.

Emily stared down hard, willing it. "Feels like dead wood. No, even a dead wood would show movement if nudged this much."

"Quad sets? Let’s try."

"Will it work?"

"Sure thing—let’s see if we can wake the thighs." Mia positioned Emily’s hands under her right knee. "Give it a squeeze, lift if you feel anything—focus hard."

Emily shut her emerald eyes tight, sweat popping on her forehead quick, thigh muscles bulging under pale skin—but the knee stayed flat, no give.

"Nada... driving me nuts," she grumbled breathy, switching legs—same frustrating nothing.

"Hang in there; every try’s building something," Mia said encouraging. "Grab the yellow band—loop ankles, toes up against it, 10 slow ones each." Band on, Emily pushed toes hard—shin twitched tiny, no real lift, arms burning from hold.

"Nice effort—paths are forming, even if quiet. Heel slides—hands on thighs, pull heels in, five a side." Inch at best, quads quiet.

’Mia should definitely change her line.’

’She should become a motivational guru.’

"Supine lifts both legs—hands under knees, up together," Mia guided. Emily strained red-faced, abs tight—legs flat mock. "Now bridges—lift hips using arms if needed, hold 5 seconds, five reps." Hips barely quivered, no rise.

Parallel bars—pink nails gripped white, Mia spotting. "Arms take weight, hips forward small—three each way." Arms shook bad, sweat soaking bra, hips stuck, legs dead drag. "Arms held great—getting stronger up top."

Therapy ball under soles: "Press out steady, 8 reps." Toes shoved futile, ball still. Wobble board presses: knees apart, 10 tries—locked. Pedal exerciser—feet strapped, 20 cranks each direction—pure drag.

Balance cushion seated: rock knees out-in, 12 reps—no shift. Calf raises: heels off block, 15 pumps. Calves strained, no twitch. Hand weights added for arms—bicep curls between sets, building endurance.

Hour later, sweat-drenched, bun loose, Emily slumped with a sad look.

"Still zero, Mia. Am I stuck like this forever?"

Mia high-fived lightly. "Nah, just slow start. Toxins hanging on, but you’re doing the work. It’ll click. E-stim tomorrow for a boost. Good job today." She waved at Emily before she snapped the door shut.

"This woman is highly optimistic about me walking again, isn’t it?"

Emily shook her head firm, pushing yesterday’s yandere nonsense aside—no need to overthink creepy what-ifs when reality bit harder.

She lay slumped on the sweaty mat post-physio, black sports bra damp and clinging, loose gray sweatpants twisted at limp ankles, raven messy bun fraying loose strands across flushed cheeks. Emerald eyes stared at the ceiling, breath steadying slow.

The door creaked open soft; Ivory stepped in graceful, her cool presence cutting the room’s stuffy air—simple white blouse tucked neat. "How did it go today?" she asked gentle, eyes scanning Emily’s exhausted form.

"Nothing. Zero twitch, same as always," Emily muttered flat, pink nails picking at mat fibers frustrated.

"It’ll work—nerves just need time," Ivory said calm certain, kneeling smooth to gather her up bridal-style, strong arms effortless under Emily’s back and knees despite the limp dead weight.

"Are you optimistic like Mia?" Emily asked sceptically, head lolling against Ivory’s shoulder.

"Mia doesn’t seem trustworthy with all that cheer, but her track record’s extraordinary—patients walk out stronger," Ivory replied pragmatic, carrying her steady toward the door.

"We’ll see soon enough," Emily sighed soft, too drained to argue.

Ivory’s hold tightened secure as they glided upstairs, her steps smooth and unhurried, white blouse soft against Emily’s damp sports bra. "Today’s my duty to bathe you—let’s get you clean and cozy after that workout." Her voice dipped tender and low, lips brushing Emily’s damp forehead feather-light—a cool, soothing press promising quiet care amid the day’s chaos.

Emily’s emerald eyes widened slight, cheeks pinking under sweat. "Why are you kissing my forehead like that?"

"It’s a way to comfort a downcast omega," Ivory murmured matter-of-fact, eyes steady as she nudged the bathroom door open with her shoulder, steam already curling from the filling tub. "An alpha does this instinctively—calms the nerves, steadies the heart."

"I don’t need it!" Emily huffed stubborn, squirming token in her arms, limp legs dangling heavy, pink nails pushing light at Ivory’s chest—though her body betrayed her, leaning closer traitorous.

"Maybe not," Ivory replied soft unyielding, lowering her gently to the marble vanity edge, fingers deft at the sports bra straps. "But you are my omega—worth every gentle touch."

"I will not be!" Emily protested fiercer, voice cracking half-hearted, raven messy bun tilting as she crossed arms over her chest defensive.

Ivory paused, cupping her chin brief to meet her gaze, lips quirking faint. "Who knows the future, Emily? For now, relax—let me take care of you." Her tone wrapped warm command, peeling the sweatpants down slow next, white lace panties peeking briefly before tub’s lavender bubbles beckoned.