Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 127: Not Straight Anymore

I sat nestled on Ivory’s lap in the dim living room, the movie’s glow flickering across us as the alpha protagonist carved her bloody path—family slaughtered, omega brother stolen, no mercy for the hunters.

She hacked hands clean off one thug, stuffing them down his gurgling throat; later, hammer pulped a skull to red mush before cracking another’s temple wide. Gripping her gun, she jammed the muzzle into a stuttering goon’s eye.

"Where’s my brother?" His denial ended in a point-blank burst, brains painting the wall.

"Emily, you like violent movies?" Ivory asked, her powerful thighs tensing under my slight weight, chili pheromones spiking sharp and uneasy like smoke off hot coals.

"I do! Can’t help it—pure catharsis, watching justice hit hard!" I grinned wide, shoving down the knot-dreams clawing at my edges, pretending Dr. Ana’s desert sage hadn’t left my core twitching slick just like Hellen’s honey-citrus, Ivory’s chili blaze, and Reyes’ cedar-steel always did. I’d been managing baths solo lately too, legs still limp but independence creeping back slow.

"But isn’t it too graphic? She severed his hands clean off and jammed them down his choking throat—blood everywhere." Ivory’s face paled a shade, her eyes widening at the screen, broad shoulders hunching faint.

"Ivory, you’re a cop—you’ve stared down real barrels. Don’t tell me fake gore rattles you this bad." I teased light, emerald eyes sparkling mischief.

"Not afraid," she insisted firm, her muscled arm tightening protective around my tiny waist, broad hand splaying warm and heavy over my belly like she owned it. "Just worried for your headspace, princess. All this brutality after your family’s poison... doesn’t it stir up the wrong things?"

"Hah, don’t worry—I’ve adapted just fine." On screen, the protagonist hurled her hammer next, blade burying deep in a skull with a wet, crunching thunk; crimson sprayed arcs.

I leaned back fuller into Ivory’s solid chili heat, my raven waves spilling wild over her shoulder, loose strands tickling her neck.

The alpha gripped her gun steady, barrel grinding brutal into another thug’s eye socket till it bulged. "Where. Is. My. Brother?"

"I-I d-don’t... know... please!"

Smash—the muzzle caved his socket; bang. Gore exploded cinematic red across concrete.

"Ivory... have you ever shot anyone?" I asked casual but curious, emerald eyes flicking up to her face mid-scene.

She froze solid, unreadable shadows storming her eyes—jaw clenching hard, chili scent sharpening metallic like gun oil and blood memory. "Emily, don’t ask that."

"Why not?" My voice dipped soft, heart picking up.

"The answer... you won’t like it. Trust me." Her tone dropped gravel-low, serious ice I’d never heard before, gloved hand flexing tense on my hip, thumb pressing a warning circle.

I flinched hard, nodding quick and silent, whipping my gaze back to the screen—heart thumping loud in my ears. She’s killed. Seen death up close, pulled triggers. Of course. She is a cop, isn’t she?

"Can I ask another question?" I ventured after a beat, voice smaller.

"Related to that?"

"No, promise."

"Then fire away."

"Do alphas... compare dick sizes?" I blurted pink-cheeked, boldness leaking out despite my denseness, core twitching faint at the thought.

Ivory barked a deep laugh, tension shattering like glass, her chest rumbling vibrations straight through me warm and alive. "Who the hell fed you that one, princess?"

"Tell me! Do you?"

"Yeah, we do—pack ritual thing. Shows dominance: who’s got the longest reach, biggest knot-base, heaviest breeder balls swinging low and full." She nuzzled deep into my raven waves playful now, chili pheromones blooming rich and teasing, hot breath stirring strands warm against my neck. "Why the sudden interest? Picturing ours stretching you wide?"

"No, I’m not picturing anyone’s!" I shot back quick, cheeks flaming despite the lie—of course I was, those dreams still burned fresh, but no way I’d admit it aloud.

My core twitched traitorous under her hand, slick threatening from Ivory’s chili spike.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs—Reyes appearing in her tank top and cap, scarred jaw set. "Reyes! Come here this instant!" I yelled, pointing sharp, movie forgotten.

She paled fast, gray eyes widening under the brim as she approached slow, gloved hands flexing nervous. "What happened, Emily? Everything okay?"

"You sneaky alpha! I’ve seen the pictures—you with fake stubble, posing as my fan at events. Are you seriously crashing fan meets disguised like that?" My emerald eyes narrowed, raven waves swinging as I grabbed her phone.

"It’s a lie! Not me!" Reyes stammered, but her cedar-steel scent spiked guilty.

I paused the movie mid-gore, shoving her phone at her—scrolling to the proof—her in baggy jeans and phony beard, grinning fanboy-style amid Helly Paws merch, gray eyes unmistakable even shadowed. Disguised as a male alpha, front-row at my last con.

"What’s this?" I demanded, shoving the screen under her nose.

"Nothing! Just... cosplay!" She tugged her cap lower, flushing deep.

"I’ve tracked your fake accounts too—the ones you run. Leaking dirt on my cheap father Viktor, stirring hate with ’anonymous tips’ on his fraud. Reyes’ initial buried in every username—ReyesFan4, AlphaReyesRants... How’d no one connect it?"

"Because no one knows me?"

"Shut up!"

"Emily, I’m happy you recognize me," she muttered sheepish, gray eyes softening proud under the cap.

"Shut up!" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, pink nails tapping mad.

"She isn’t the sharpest tool in the box, Emily," Ivory snorted from behind, her laugh rumbling through me.

"Ivory, don’t be a bitch," Reyes snarled back, gloved fist clenching threateningly.

"Argh, why are you all so weird?" I sighed heavy, slumping back into Ivory’s lap, tension melting to exasperated fondness. "But... thank you, Reyes. Even if your methods are sloppy and obvious, you’re helping me fight back."

"You’re welcome, Emily." She leaned in swift, pressing a firm kiss to my flushed cheek—lips warm and lingering just a beat too long, cedar-steel wrapping me dizzy. "Been leading at least ten fan groups as the top alpha mod."

"What?!"

Is she kidding me? Why do all of the alphas have to be... so protective of... me....? Fuck, I don’t think that I am straight anymore. If this continues, I will soon like women. Or maybe, I already do.