Alpha's Fallen Angel

Roman's POV-3 days post-capture

“FUCK” I snarl as Adonis and I tear apart the bed we found with her scent on it. My warriors linked me over an hour ago, saying they found another warehouse connected to a tunnel. I immediately portaled here, despite knowing they would have moved her again. It only took us twenty minutes to rip apart the roughly two hundred vamps that were here. Given that this warehouse was significantly smaller than the first, between myself, my warriors, and Amara’s family, we had it searched top to bottom in forty-five minutes.

It only fueled my rage when I found this room. The bed and the bathroom were the only things with a hint of her scent on them. They couldn’t have spent much time here, probably moving her after a couple hours, given that her scent and the four others I found here were so faint and stale.

Outside of giving orders, I haven’t spoken to anyone. I have nothing nice to say, and my pack is doing their best, searching tirelessly around the clock, so they don’t deserve the anger that would surely come their way if I did interact with them.

Warriors and trackers are constantly scouring the tunnels and the areas they lead to. My small group of IT can only do so much, given there are just 8 of them- a flaw that will be rectified the first chance I get. In the past, there was never a need for a large IT team, given that the most significant threat my pack faced prior to this was an attack from the allies, and they were easily monitored by one or two employees. My personnel are quick and efficient at what needs to be done, but they’re still people with lives, and they’ve already pulled more overtime than I’ve ever asked them to.

I have a very fundamental understanding of their skill set, so I’m no help to them. The reports my lead has given me said they have the more skilled employees hacking into any electronics found in the warehouses and trying to get into whatever system the vampires use. The others, along with a few new recruits, are focused on finding some similarities in all the warehouses in the area, trying to give them any hint that they would have been owned by the fucker, Silas. That’s no small task, given that there are a lot of fucking warehouses, and if all of those come up clear, then we have to expand our search. My hope is that their base camp is one of the larger ones and not an actual house or something untraceable, like any area in the rogue lands.

Once they can give me something, I plan to send my trackers to them to spy. I can’t blindly attack and risk them moving her again. I have no doubt that wherever that fucker Silas is, she’s with him. So as soon as I find his location, we attack, all hands on deck.

I step back from the bed we just destroyed, trying to take deep breaths and force the blind rage away. Every day that passes, they’re more likely to harm her or our child if they haven’t already. I’m on a wild goose chase, utterly helpless as the time passes. It’s only been three days, and the tether on any control I have is snapping.

~~~~~~~~~~

Amara's POV-8 days post-capture

I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here; I’ve been drugged for most of them, only waking up to eat what little food I was allowed, usually moldy bread, old vegetables, and water. Frankly, eating is the least of my worries. Even though I know my little bean needs it, I can’t stomach anything. Once I take my usual three bites of food, Samirah drags me to the bathroom. I’ve woken up in three different rooms now, including the cage. I at least have the luxury of a toilet in this room. I can’t fault them for moving me; I would have done the same. When I’m out, I dream of nothing. My life consists of waking up, listening for my baby’s heartbeat, eating, peeing, and blacking out.

I open my heavy eyes and I’m almost happy to see Samirah. She’s as pleasant as I can hope for in this place. I guess I puked a couple times in my sleep, and each time she turned me on my side so I didn’t choke and cleaned me up. Or so she tells me when I wake up with vomit in my hair. But she at least brings a bar of soap to wash it out when I’m in the bathroom. I’ve been allowed one bath, and I fell asleep during it, so she had to wash, dry, and dress me. I’d be humiliated if I didn’t get some satisfaction out of all that. Serves her right.

I’d take her over the other two any day, though. While Damon just sits in the corner with his arms crossed, he at least minds his business and occasionally talks. On the other hand, Amon looks at me like he can’t wait for the King to be bored of me so he can have fun, never speaking, and his eyes burning into me as he watches me change clothes or use the bathroom. I shudder, pushing those memories into the back of my mind and look back at Samirah.

She’s in her usual chair, reading a book. Today she’s dressed in all white. The soft-looking long-sleeve shirt ends just before her midriff, paired with high-waisted split-hem palazzo pants. Her usual braids are gone, replaced by black hair with extra springy curls reaching just below her chest. Goddess, I wish she was ugly; why must the villain be so stunning? I glance at her book. Her Cold-Hearted Alpha by Moonlight Muse. Seriously? She’s reading a werewolf romance?

“Don’t you think that’s in poor taste?” I ask her; my voice is hoarse like I haven’t spoken in days. I guess I really haven’t. I wanted to think it would take them at least two weeks to break me, but I guess being unconscious for the majority of one’s life will wear one down. She purses her lips and slits her eyes at me.

“It’s a good series, and besides, I’m a sucker for a mate bond,” she says

“I’ll give you that; if Roman wasn’t my mate, I would have sniffed out Alejandro in a heartbeat; sorry, not sorry, Kiara,” I say with a yawn, she smiles, opening her mouth to say something else, but I talk again first. “I guess you’re only a sucker for fictional mate bonds, then?” I say; her mouth instantly closes, and she looks away.

I can’t help but wonder what Silas has over her for her to be here. She’s the only one with any humanity, even though she hides it from anyone else. Maybe he has one of her kids or her mate. Although, I don’t think I could read about another happy couple if I couldn’t have my mate, like right now. The idea actually makes me nauseous. My ache for Roman eats me alive when I’m awake; I wonder how he’s feeling? My heart breaks when I think about it; I know he can’t be well. Especially if Aylin or Dad told him that I was pregnant. He probably feels as helpless as I do. I look down at my belly, blinking away my tears.

Every single time I wake up, my belly is more prominent. This little baby is growing so quickly; I even swore I felt movements a few times. Today, I have a noticeable bump against my tiny frame, made even more noticeable because of how much weight I’ve lost. I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. That’s easily my favorite part of my days.

“Your babe seems to be growing at an unprecedented rate,” she says.

I shrug. What does she care? But the longing in her eyes as she stares at my belly confirms she has a child somewhere.

“How old is yours?” Maybe she’s not an ideal company, but I need some interaction for the first time in my life. I might go insane without it. When I was in Red Moon Pack and spent most of my days alone, I at least had Tamisra to keep me company.

“He was four when he died,” she says flatly.

“Oh,” I say. Well, I’d rather stay silent then. She looks at me for a long moment; I hold her gaze, feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry for your loss, although that wouldn’t mean anything to me if I were in your shoes,” I add.

“It doesn’t. People say that because they don’t know what else to say or because it makes them feel better about my grief,” she says, putting a bookmark in her book and setting it under her chair. I nod; that was the only reason I said it. What could I say to take away the pain of that loss?

“When did he die?” I ask

“A very, very long time ago, when I was still human. We lived in South Africa back in the mid-1800s. He got tuberculosis and never recovered. My husband and I fell ill shortly after he did, and when they died, I gave up. I was ready to go with him, yet, fate couldn’t have such mercy. I was changed on my deathbed, along with my brother, who was also ill. We never found out who changed us, but we woke up with an ache in our throats and fangs piercing our lips. I’ll never understand why I was spared and neither of my boys.”

So she was a turned bloodsucker, interesting. Although, it explains the sprinkle of humanity she has left in her.

“How did you end up here then?” I ask her

“We fled to America shortly after, not realizing that was not the place to be in those times. We risked draining whole tribes if we stayed home, and I wouldn’t do that to the people I grew up with. But, I had my fun here, draining slave masters and whatnot. Then in the ’50s, I took out my fair share of racists, rapists, child abusers, wife beaters, and all the horrid people I could find. I stalked them, waiting until I was near ravenous and then drinking from them slowly, usually over a couple days.”

“So you do all that good, and then you end up here, working for Silas? Did you feel like you needed to even out the good you did with evil?” I say, not caring when I see her eyes flash

“I followed my brother; he promised me a different life than this if I pledged allegiance to Silas. He’s… he’s a different man than the human I grew up with. I’m one of Silas’ most trusted personnel; if I leave, he’ll have me hunted and slaughtered,” she grits out.

“Is that so bad?” I ask her, if Roman and my baby died, what the fuck would I have to live for? Although, I have to admire her resilience, at least up to this point, even if she hasn’t done any good with it for a long time. She doesn’t answer my question.

“The drug you’ll be given today is only to neutralize you; you’ll stay awake. It’s the powder, so at least you won’t have to get a shot. The King is ready to speak with you again.” she says, ending our conversation.

“Great. Can’t wait. What’s the difference between the injection and the powder anyways?” I say, sitting up and trying to stand, only for my knees to buckle, and I flop back down on the bed. Stupid, weak ass fucking legs.

“Easy. Here.” She says as she comes over and puts my arm across her shoulders. My knees wobble, but she holds me up, practically drags me to the bathroom, and sets me on the toilet. I wriggle the sweatpants I was so generously given down one buttcheek at a time as she holds me steady.

“The injection sedates and paralyzes you. It has propofol and succinylcholine in it, whereas the powder does not. The powder just takes away your abilities.”

“Propowhat? Were you a nurse in your human life or something?” I ask her; I don’t bother trying to say the second drug she said.

“Propofol. It’s a powerful sedative. And no, I was a midwife.” she says

“Oh, how convenient for me then,” I say sarcastically.

Getting distracted, I rub my stomach, and then it feels like something tickles me from the inside in response. My face must light up because Samirah smiles at me.

“Is that your first time feeling movement?” she asks.

“I don’t think so, but it’s the first time I know I felt it,” I say, just as the sensation reappears.

“How far along are you? You weren’t even showing when we found you eight days ago.”

“I was anywhere between one and three weeks then. Really? It’s only been eight days?” I ask

“Well, eight and a half.” I roll my eyes; not the point.

I don’t say anything as she pulls me up to the sink. I’m able to brace myself on either side while she grabs a brush and starts brushing my hair. When I feel my legs again, I try to brush my teeth, still keeping one hand on the sink just incase they fail me. I gag, as usual, the second the brush hits my mouth, but there’s not one single thing in my stomach for me to throw up, so I don’t bother going to the toilet as I dry heave into the sink. Samirah rubs my back until I manage to finish brushing my teeth.

When she walks me back to bed, I don’t bother eating. The mold on the bread will just make me vomit again anyways. I wrap my arms around my belly and fall into another dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Amara! Amara wake up,”

I groan when I hear Samirah’s ringing voice wake me up. I remember she said I had to meet with the King. Well, that can’t be anything good. I roll over and look at her.

“You know, your name reminds me of my wolf,” I tell her as she raises her eyebrows.

“Alright, I’ll bite; what’s your wolf’s name?” she asks, a hint of amusement sneaking into her eyes.

“Tamisra. She’s the best; I miss her. I used to always have her to talk to. Now I’m stuck with you,” I say, stretching and yawning. She ignored my insult, not that I cared; it was the truth.

“Ah. That means darkness, you know,” she says matter of factly.

“No, I didn’t know, but I guess you learn something new every day. Fitting, I guess, she’s pure black, and I’m part demon, so I guess Selene chose accordingly,” I say

“For the record, while I don’t care about and find your witty remarks warranted, I suggest holding your tongue around the King. He won’t be so forgiving,” she tells me.

I shrug; that’s becoming harder to do these days. But I can hear Tamisra and Roman in my head telling me I need to listen to her. They would be correct if they were actually the ones saying it; I can’t risk my little bean.

I wonder if I should start thinking of names? Is that too optimistic? Nah, it’ll surely give me something to do. I tuck that away, excited to have something to do later.

“Come on, I haven’t dosed you with anything except the powder; you should be able to stand on your own,” she says, reaching out her arm. I chose to ignore the fact that I was drugged in my sleep.

I grab her arm, hoisting myself up. I’m surprisingly steady on my feet; what a treat. I keep hold of her arm as she leads me out of my room. I see Amon and Damon standing in the hall when we exit my room.

“Sup boys, long time no see,” I say, then laugh. Amon and Damon, oh, how original these vampire names are

I only drop Samirah’s hand when I see a door ahead. She reaches up and squeezes my shoulder once before the Amon crew opens it and walks in. Samirah also walks in ahead of me. I walk in on my own; what a badass bitch I am, being able to use my own two legs.

This room looks exactly like I woke up that first day, just without a cage and lonesome chair. Boxes lined the wall, a cot with chains in the back of the room, where Silas stood, fuckwad Felix next to him, and about 20 other vampires.

“Oh, how exciting this is! I’ve missed you, my tribrid!” Silas squeals when we walk in, yes, squeals

I bite the sarcastic remark off when real fear pours through me. He’s had eight days to plan; what will he do to me? Whatever it is, it won’t be pretty.

“Come, come. I have a special seat for you right here,” he says, gesturing to the cot as we approach.

Artemis’ tits, I forgot how annoying his voice was; what a joy it has been not hearing it. Fighting a cringe, I lay down like the good little slave I am. He leans over me, securing the handcuffs on my wrists, then takes a small step back but continues to stand over me.

“Now, let’s get right to business. I have brought two things with me today, one you will like, the other not so much. The first is a delightful little pill called Cytotec. Do you know what that does?” he says, in the interest of playing nice; I respond with a head shake.

“I didn’t think so. It’s a drug commonly used to terminate pregnancy in humans. I had to play around with the dosage since there’s no such thing as supernaturals having an abortion. But my medical team said a double dose should do the trick. Isn’t that exciting?” he says

Sick bastard, I had refused to think about the situation I’m in right now since the first day I was here. He would need my magic to do whatever he wants me to do. I don’t really care what the consequences are at this point; he can’t kill me and if he kills my child, he loses any and all leverage over me. Besides, I would find a way to stab myself in the heart later if he actually gave me this pill.

“Now, the second drug, I think you’ll prefer-it’s the antidote to the drug we’ve been giving you. When I give this to you, it would be extremely unwise to use any powers, given that you’re surrounded, and I would be forced to punish you. I would enjoy that immensely, but you certainly wouldn’t.” he says, smiling at me with that snake’s smile.

But, if he thinks a room full of vampires will scare me into not portaling away, he’s either a lot stupider than I thought, or he doesn’t know of the ability. The latter is very unlikely, given that anyone hanging around a demon for more than five minutes will see them do it. That’s not even to mention that if he somehow knows so much about my abilities, like me being able to open portals and command armies, he would know about the portaling. But, regardless, if I want him to give me this antidote, I can’t look too eager for it.

His eyes flash while I hold his gaze as I think this through, and yet again, don’t respond.

“I see you’re not in a chatty mood. I’ll cut right to the chase then, you’re going to open a portal to the Heavens for me, and we’re going to take a nice little vacation to their army base camp and you’re going to command them to obey me. If you have any protests, I will be forced to see if a double dose of this Cytotec is enough to work on you.” he finishes; he looks proud of himself.

Proud of what, I don’t know. If they’ve actually been working on this for over a century like they say, they really did not make that time count. I simply respond with a shake of my head; it seems I’ve chosen silence as my way of defiance. His eyes flash again, but instead of pulling himself together, he hisses and pulls a fist back. I turn my head on instinct, and his fist meets my left eye. Pain blooms across my face just as he grabs me by the throat and squeezes, cutting my airways off. I wheeze and fight against my restraints, and just when my vision gets fuzzy, I hear Samirah speak.

“My king, if I may interrupt,” he lets go, and I instantly go into a coughing fit, trying to get air into my lungs. “The fetus seems to be growing much faster than I anticipated. It will be much more effective if you wait until the child is born to use it against her. I can perform daily ultrasounds on the fetus to give us an estimate of when she will deliver.” she says

At that moment, I don’t believe she was ever a mother. There was no way she could have been; no mother would ever suggest that. No wonder she kept bringing up how fast he was growing. My eyes must be sparkling with hatred for her because Silas looks at her, then at me, and claps his hands together, letting out a sinister laugh that sends goosebumps up my arms.

“You know, you’re my favorite for a reason, sweet Samirah. So smart and calculating. Get her to her room and do an ultrasound. I’ve waited long enough; I can wait just a little longer. If I grow impatient, I suppose we can always cut the thing out of her when it’s formed just enough. I’ll leave that to your judgments, my dear,” he says to her.

Bile rises in my throat, the thought…no, I can’t go there. It’s not an option; Roman will find me before it gets to that point. I growl at her as she comes to me and undoes my handcuffs. She goes to help me stand, not meeting my eyes. I bare my teeth at her, standing up on my own. I follow Damon and Amon back to my room, Samirah behind me.

Thankfully it’s Damon who comes into the room with me. I sit on my bed, knowing I will probably be sedated again; I might welcome it this time. Nevermind, that thought instantly disappears as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the syringe. I tense, and he meets my eyes before he walks into the bathroom, empties the liquid into the toilet, and flushes.

I’m utterly speechless as he trashes the now-empty syringe and sits in the chair, arms crossed. I’m still staring at him when he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Sleep” is all he says

All I do is nod and lay down, my back to him, trying to understand what the fuck he’s planning.