Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret

Chapter 336

Axel drags me back to the mansion, which is the last place I want to go right now, but it’s not like I’ve

got much of a choice.

I assume he’s going to lock me into my room again.

What else is he going to do with me when it’s the middle of the day and he’s got pack business to

attend to as acting Alpha on behalf of my brother?

However, when we go inside the mansion, he doesn’t take me upstairs.

Instead, he opens the door that goes down to the basement-slash-cellar.

As soon as he opens that door, all common sense leaves me as pure panic takes over.

I turn to run, but Axel wraps his arms around my waist.

I haven’t been down to the cellar since I returned to the Rathborn mansion.

It’s mostly used to store stuff, as well as an extensive and expensive collection of wine, but I’ve always

managed to find someone else to go down for me if I’ve needed anything.

I think Jessica has figured out I’m avoiding it on purpose, but no one else has.

At the house I spent ten years locked away in, there was a small storm cellar beneath the kitchen.

When the old Roberts Alpha really wanted to punish me—whether I had done something to annoy him,

or he was just having a bad day, or he’d gotten some news about Leah that he didn’t like—he would

throw me down in that storm cellar with no light or lamp, no blankets, no food, no water.

Sometimes it would just be for a few hours.

Occasionally, it’d been days.

Once, he’d left me so long I’d been delirious from dehydration when he’d pulled me out.

I’d thought I was going to die.

Actually, I’d prayed for death, because then I would be free and would no longer be forced to live in fear

or captivity.

I’d constantly wondered what the point of my continued existence even was. Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I’d given up on ever being free.

When Liam had brought the pack doctor to treat me—Adam, I think his name had been—I’d tried to

refuse treatment and had been furious that I’d survived.

It seemed like some cruel joke, some terrible twist of fate.

Why couldn’t I just die and be at peace?

I haven’t thought about any of that—those darkest days—since I’d returned home.

And for good reason.

The memory of that specific fear, of being locked down in the dark with no idea how long it would last

and no way to tell how much time was passing, was something my brain refused to handle.

Now proves to be no different as all those horrible feelings come rushing back, immediately

overwhelming me.

I fight Axel so hard, in the end he has to pick me up and fling me over his shoulder.

Once in his hold, I have no way to properly fight or escape.

His grip on me is an inescapable vice.

We reach one of the smaller storerooms and Axel pauses to open the door and flick on the overhead

light.

There are some basics like rice and other bulk provisions stacked inside, and some detached part of

my mind tells me that at least I have light this time and won’t starve.

As if I’ve already surrendered to the fact I am about to be locked in here.

No.

I will not give in so easily.

Axel sets me down and then shoves me just enough to force me to use precious seconds catching my

balance.

By the time I make sure I’m not about to fall on my ass and rush across the small space, he’s darted

out of the room and slams the door between us.

“Damn it, Axel! Let me out! Now!” I yell furiously, yanking at the handle and pounding on the door. “You

bastard!”

The only thing I hear is Axel’s footsteps retreating rapidly across the cellar and back onto the stairs.

I pound on the door some more, screaming my fury, hoping the entire mansion can hear me and that

someone like Jessica will come down and let me out.

However, the silence presses in, and reality suddenly hits me out of nowhere.

I’m locked in.

And I’m alone.

I try to calm my racing mind as my heart pounds so hard, I think I might be having a heart attack.

I tell myself I have light and I have food and there’s even a small pallet of bottled water, so I can

probably survive in here for a good few weeks.

The idea of being locked down here for weeks is what sends me over the edge.

I shift and throw myself at the door, trying to tear through the solid wood with teeth and claws.

Eventually, however, exhaustion gets the better of me.

I have no idea how long I’ve been raging for, but it feels like forever, and also somehow a few seconds

of time.

My wolf squeezes us into a far corner, between stacks of supplies and then I shift back, curling in on

myself in the small space.

The tears come then, but my mind falls blessedly silent.

It’s like I feel my sense of self floating away until I’m empty and nothing matters any longer.

Finally, I think as everything goes numb. Maybe this will finally all end.