Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 65: Hellen Kissed Me!
Hellen forked into her omelette with mechanical precision, steam curling from the herb-flecked folds as she chewed slow, eyes fixed on her plate. I mirrored her across the coffee table, Pikachu onesie paws awkward around my fork, potato fry crunching salty between my teeth—breakfast a fragile truce, coffee’s bitter steam sharpening the quiet tension.
"Are you angry?" I asked soft, emerald eyes searching hers over my coffee mug, raven curl tickling my cheek.
"Who knows?" she muttered, spearing a fry, blonde ponytail swaying faint as she shrugged—voice flat, but jaw tight.
"Hellen, please tell me," I pressed, leaning forward, onesie ears flopping earnest. My heart twisted; her ghosting post-launch cut deep.
She paused, toast halfway to her mouth, gaze lifting slow—alpha edge glinting. "Do you even care if I’m angry or not?"
"I care!" My voice cracked sharp, fork clattering down. "More than you know!"
"Really?" Her lips curved sceptical, eyes narrowing as she set her plate aside, leaning elbows on knees—challenge hanging thick as the fry-oil scent.
"Is it because of the modelling? You know that I did for us! For the company!"
"I forbade you, Emily."
"Yes, I care—really care—but you have to understand my reasons, Hellen," I pleaded, leaning forward across the coffee table, Pikachu onesie paws gripping my mug tight as emerald eyes locked hers, steam curling forgotten between us. "Olle cornered me—you were there, the deadline loomed, Helly Paws hung in the balance. I stepped up for us." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
Her fork scraped the plate sharp, ice-blue gaze lifting slow from her half-eaten omelette, blonde ponytail catching the light like a warning flare. "Then understand my reasons too."
"Your reasons?" I echoed, heart stuttering, a golden fry forgotten mid-air.
"Yes—my reasons," she bit out, setting her mug down with a deliberate clunk, elbows planting firm on her knees as alpha tension rippled through her frame.
"They’re selfish, Hellen! You’re just being overprotective—like always!" My voice rose, onesie ears flopping wild with the gesture, raven curls bouncing loose. "You are trying to control me?"
"Control you? You think I am trying to control you?" Hellen gave me a challenging look.
I nodded, "Yes, you are! I don’t want you protecting me!"
"Only protective?" Her laugh came low, edged bitter, eyes narrowing to blue slits—jaw ticking once, hard.
"I’m a human, not your pet project," I snapped back, chest heaving under yellow plush, fork clattering to my plate. "I make my own calls—modelling saved our launch, exploded sales. I can do what I want!"
"Emily, save the excuses. I’m not hearing it." She leaned back sharp, arms crossing her magenta jacket, voice flat as steel—wall slamming down.
"Hellen, you’re my best friend," I whispered, desperation cracking through, emerald eyes shimmering wet as I reached half-across the table, onesie paw trembling.
"Am I only your best friend?"
"Yes, Hellen!"
"Then, why are you lying to me? Emily, don’t you have at least a little mercy for me?"
"I am not lying to you, Hellen. Why do you think that I am lying to you?"
"Again?"
"What more do you want from me, Hellen? You’re the only person—besides Reyes—that I trust with everything!" My voice broke raw across the cooling coffee tray, eyes wide and shimmering, Pikachu onesie paws twisting desperate in my lap as the words hung desperate between us.
"I don’t give a fuck about Reyes!" Hellen exploded—for the first time her voice cracked thunder through the living room, eyes blazing feral as she surged to her feet, blonde ponytail whipping sharp behind her.
The coffee table rattled; her half-eaten omelette jiggled forgotten.
"I don’t care, Hellen! I’m not your wife to command!" I shot back, heart slamming ribs, scrambling upright on the sectional—yellow plush bunching under my thighs, floppy ears bouncing wild with the sudden move.
"Wife?" She snarled the word like a brand, stalking forward in three prowling strides, magenta jacket straining across her shoulders. "If that’s what you were to me—mine to protect, mine to keep—would you finally listen? Stop throwing yourself at cameras, at strangers, at her?"
"Hellen...?" My breath hitched soft, question trembling as she loomed—six feet of coiled alpha fury.
No answer. She closed the gap predator-fast, one hand snagging both my wrists in iron grip, yanking them high above my head as her other palm slammed the sectional backrest—trapping me flush against the cushions.
My onesie rode up slight under the force, yellow fabric whispering against her jeans, raven hair spilling wild across the pillow as her body caged mine—knees pinning my hips, blonde fringe brushing my forehead, eyes boring down inches away, breath hot against my lips.
"Why are you scared?"
"Hellen, we both are alphas..."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Then let me turn you into an omega, Emily. You like to act too much, don’t you?"
"Hellen, what—mphmm!"
Hellen’s eyes darkened, pupils blown wide with raw hunger, and then she kissed me—sudden, fierce, like a dam shattering.
I tried to fight, wrists twisting faint in her iron grip, a muffled protest humming against her lips, but my body betrayed me, melting helpless as unknown instincts surged hot under the suppressants.
Her full lips crashed against mine, hot and demanding, no mercy as her thumbs dug into my racing pulse points—pinning my wrists high while her body sank me deeper into the sectional cushions.
Not being able to do anything, I gave in, a soft whimper escaping as the Pikachu onesie bunched higher around my hips, yellow plush rasping electric against her denim-clad thighs straddling mine.
Her mouth moved insistent, lips parting mine with alpha authority—tongue sweeping bold to claim every inch, tasting of black coffee bitterness and the salt of her fraying control.
She angled her head, deepening the assault, nose brushing mine as a low rumble vibrated from her chest straight into my core, teeth grazing my lower lip sharp enough to sting sweet before soothing with a slow, possessive suck.
My eyes fluttered shut, raven curls tangling wild under her hovering frame, heart hammering so loud she must feel it where our chests pressed flush—her magenta shirt riding up to bare a sliver of toned midriff against my onesie softness.
The kiss stretched endless, hungry laps turning languid tease, her free hand finally releasing the backrest to cup my jaw firm, tilting me helpless for more.
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NOTE: Thank you for the Power Stones, Golden Tickets and gifts!
Rellana
GBpackers
Rie13







