Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 99: Am I the Heroine Now?

I lay propped on soft pillows in my sunlit bedroom, the mansion’s airy space still feeling surreal—raven waves loose over my shoulders, milky white skin prickling faint from recovery chills.

Hellen and Reyes clattered pots downstairs, their bickering voices drifting up muffled, honey-citrus and cedar-steel scents teasing the air. They are really dominant alphas, aren’t they?

An omega, that’s what I really am. Who could I not see it? No, it was there right in front of me but I ignored, believing the details from the book, even though nothing was really in accordance with the novel.

Ivory helped me sit up gentle, her strong arms steadying my plush frame in the pale blue sundress.

"Why aren’t you down there cooking with them?" I asked curious, emerald eyes flicking to her form, tailored shirt hugging broad shoulders.

Ivory chuckled low, eyes warm. "I don’t know how—burned water once. Epic fail. And I don’t want to try cooking food with my skills."

"I could’ve taught you, but..." I trailed off, gesturing helpless at my limp legs under the sheets.

"Well, we can postpone cooking lessons for later. Now, let’s change your clothes—you’ve been in that sundress all day." Her voice turned practical, chili pheromones blooming reassuring.

I blushed deep rose across milky cheeks, full lips parting shy. "I could change myself..."

"Can you, really?" She arched a teasing brow, hands on hips.

"...No," I admitted soft, ponytail remnants swaying.

"Then let’s do it." Effortlessly scooping me bridal-high—curvaceous strength making it feel weightless—she tugged the sundress zipper slow, peeling pale blue fabric down my plush curves, leaving me naked and exposed in her hold.

Cool air kissed my milky skin—breasts heaving shallow, thickened thighs quivering faint—as she inhaled deep my scent, brown eyes darkening appreciative a heartbeat.

"Stop sniffing me!"

"Sorry, but you know that I can’t."

I shivered goosebumps rising, arms crossing instinctive over hardened nipples. "Can you... put me down? It’s cold."

She eased me onto the bed’s silk sheets naked, movements careful as she fetched a soft white shirt and green capri pants from the dresser—oversized shirt draping loose to mid-thigh, capris hugging my calves snug but comfy.

Her callused hands guided fabric gentle over my skin, thumbs brushing accidental sparks along my hips and ribs, chili warmth chasing the chill.

"Emily, are you hungry?" Ivory asked final, stepping back to admire, her suit pants shifting as she loomed.

I nodded, stomach rumbling faint. "Yes—starving."

"You can’t eat heavy yet—doc’s orders, right? Light stuff only."

"No... nothing greasy," I agreed, emerald eyes grateful.

"For that, I told those two downstairs to prep light food—fruit salad, veggie broth, yogurt with berries. Healthy, easy on your system."

"How do you know them if you don’t like cooking?"

"I don’t need any cooking knowledge to know their names."

"Ah, thank you—you think of everything." My smile warmed genuine, ponytail falling forward.

"Let’s go eat, then." She lifted me up again effortless—princess carry secure—making my cheeks flame hotter, plush body nestling instinctive against her warmth.

Ivory carried me downstairs steady, her strong arms cradling my plush frame like I weighed nothing, then eased me into the wheelchair with care before wheeling me into the sun-drenched dining room.

The long oak table gleamed under crystal pendants, platters steaming light and fresh: vibrant fruit salad glistening with yogurt drizzle—strawberries, kiwi slices, mango chunks, blueberries tumbling colourful—beside veggie broth in porcelain bowls, herb-flecked carrots and zucchini floating soft, plus fluffy cottage cheese topped with crushed nuts.

Hellen had plated a custom portion for me already, portioned gentle, before sliding into the seat beside my left—blonde ponytail swaying, ice-blue eyes soft.

The wheelchair sat low, awkward for the table height.

Reyes noticed that in an instant, leaning over with gloved hands firm but tender, lifting me effortless onto her lap—broad thighs solid under my green capri pants, cedar-steel scent enveloping thick as her arms bracketed my waist secure.

My milky cheeks flamed crimson, full lips parting in a startled gasp, plush curves nestling flush against her powerful frame, heart fluttering wild. Unlike before, I’m hyper self-conscious now, I thought, seeing their love raw—they want me as wife, not friend.

An image flashed unbidden—my belly swollen round with kids, breasts heavy, alphas tending me possessive. I shook my head sharp, raven waves whipping, emerald eyes darting away flushed.

Two low growls rumbled from Hellen and Ivory—Hellen scooting her chair closer on my left despite Reyes claiming the right side of the table, Ivory mirroring on my right, her bulk shifting aggressive.

They glared daggers at Reyes, faces darkening feral—ice-blue narrowing volcanic, brown eyes storming—but bit back words, pheromones clashing thick: honey-citrus souring jealous, chili spiking hot.

As I reached tentative for my spoon—fingers trembling faint from weakness—Ivory caught my wrist gentle, thumb stroking milky skin soothing. "No need to strain yourself, Emily."

"But—"

"I’ll feed you." Ivory declared firm, scooping a spoonful of yogurt-drizzled fruit salad—ruby strawberry slice, golden mango, plump blueberry nestled creamy—holding it to my lips expectantly.

Hellen and Reyes growled deeper this time, guttural warnings vibrating the air—Hellen’s fists clenching on the tablecloth, Reyes’ gloved arms tightening possessive around my waist.

"I can eat by myself," I protested pouty, cheeks burning hotter on Reyes’ lap, thighs pressing self-conscious against her.

"No, Emily—your body’s still weak, hands shaky from the purge," Ivory insisted soft but unyielding, spoon hovering tempting.

"But..."

"No buts. Open up, pretty." The first bite slid warm and sweet—tangy strawberry bursting juicy, creamy yogurt coating my tongue, mango silk-soft—I chewed slow, messy dribble escaping my glossy lips down my chin.

Hellen tsked affectionate, napkin in hand swift—leaning across to dab precise at the yogurt trail, thumb brushing my lower lip lingering to swipe clean, eyes glinting playful. "You’re a cat, aren’t you? Messy little kitten."

"I am not a cat! Or kitten!"

I glared up at her, lips pouting despite the flush, emerald eyes flashing mock-fierce as Ivory fed the next spoonful—broth now, warm zucchini melting tender, carrot flecked green onion—while Reyes shifted under me subtle, her heat seeping through capris to my bare skin, gloved hand resting light on my hip steadying.

Hellen wiped another stray blueberry juice smear from my cheekbone, napkin grazing soft, breath honey-citrus warm on my face.

Bite after messy bite—fruit tang, veggie earthiness, cottage cheese fluff—I ate helpless pampered, alphas tending devoted—Ivory’s spoon rhythmic patient, Hellen’s napkin devoted, Reyes’ lap an unyielding throne, jealousy simmering silent but their care fierce undivided.

Wait?

Am I the heroine now?