Chapter Four

"No! No! Please, stop! Please, don't do this, I beg you!" Eleanor cried and kicked her legs fervently whilst thrashing around as beads of hot sweat trickled down her body and tears poured down her face in her sleep.

"No!"

She bolted straight up from the bed panting in fear as she does every time she had this same nightmare. Gradually, it has become normal for her to be pulled by invisible hands back to the very day she would give anything never to relive _the day she was raped by that unrecognised monster.

Despite the outcome of the rape being a child she would give anything to protect, reminiscing the very ordeal was like a blunt knife was stabbed into her heart and twisted while she watched as she bled to death. She might not always think about it, or rather, doesn't allow herself to think about it, every day of her life she wished life would give her the chance to meet the monster that did that to her. She would make sure he paid for all her pains and torment.

Fully regaining back from her nightmare, she suddenly became aware of her environment. She was in an unfamiliar room...? She jerked aside and looked around the bed she was sitting, her fingers grasping the white covers to squeeze, as if to check if the were truly real. When last did she lie on a bed like this one?

She shook her head and hastened out of the bed, recalling exactly what happened to her back in the brothel when the man on a black sunshade approached her. What did he do to her when he touched her? And why is she_

Gentle footfalls fell outside the door and after some time, it opened and a big man walked in. Her eyes dilated. Oh, no. Not another creepy man. Why are they all this big and scary?

"Stay the fuck away from me!" She jumped back and pointed her forefinger in warning at the man. He only cocked his head to the side in observation, then shook his head and approached her. "I swear if you come any closer, I will scream at the top of my lungs and get people's attenti_ow!" She cried as her back connected with something sharp and she masked her pang by sharply looking back at the man who seemed to have been affected by her threat because he stopped, his lips thin as he held her gaze.

Shaking off the pain, she didn't shift her gaze from the man but only hesitated before she asked in a stricken voice, "What do you want from me?"

He straightened his suit and blinked once before he looked away and muttered something in a language she didn't understand, then pivoted and moved back to stand by the door.

Okay, that is strange. Eleanor thought and stood straight, her ears perking up when another sound came outside the door and this one seemed like a giant sound. How come the first set of werewolves she met weren't this ominous?

The door slammed against the wall as it opened and the mute man was lucky to have shifted because he missed the door hitting him by a notch.

But that wasn't the problem. The problem right now is the man that walked through the entrance.

Eleanor blanched out, every part of her body experiencing immobility as her sight fell on the man. It wasn't just about the fact that he was hunky and imposing, or the fact that the minute he entered, a certain form of aura oozed off him showing he was a man of authority, no, It was the fact that in her entire nineteen years, she has never, ever seen any man as beautiful as him.

As a stripper, she has met men of diverse physical attributes, but none came close to this man who was everything that made up the words; BIG, BROAD, AND BEAUTIFUL! The kind that made women’s dignity disappear and made other men cower in his presence.

She became even more awestricken because, for unfathomable reasons, it seemed as if she had known this man somehow. It was as if something connected both of them. Something metaphysical.

But how? She has never seen him before.

"Out!" His timbre voice resonated in the room and in the blink of an eye, the mute man scrambled out of the room. Eleanor was marveled at how frightened the man looked. Even with all those muscles.

Who is this man?

He took a calculated step toward her like a predator and she recovered, gasped, and panicked, her terrified eyes looking everywhere but at him.

"You are awake," His voice was feathery.

Is she supposed to respond to that? She mused but didn't say anything, merely terrified, wishing the ground would open and swallow her.

"Don't you talk?" He questioned further. She shook her head and then paused and nodded repeatedly, only to stop and bite down on her lower lip in dread. What is she doing? What if she angered him?

He reached her and gently lifted his strong fingers toward her right cheek. Eleanor’s eyes were like saucers now. Like a feather was swept across her cheek, he softly brushed his fingers over her face in a light trace, his masculine scent engulfing her nostrils that she almost choked.

"Look at me," He demanded. It wasn't in a tough voice at all, yet the authority in it couldn't be missed.

Eleanor, who was at the point of disappearing from her body as her heart thundered, slowly lifted her eyes, in fear that if she disobeyed, he might kill her. These werewolves are capable of unimaginable things and killing for sport was a part of their nature.

Just as her eyes met his captivating ones, her legs buckled beneath her.

"Shit," Drakken whizzed and was on time to catch her before she collapsed to the ground. He held her against him until she was stable but he could still feel her fear which wasn't good. He has been patient all these years to meet his mate and now the goddess has the guts to play this prank on him.

"What a midday dry joke." He shifted her away from him. "After all these years of waiting, the goddess thinks I deserve a dumb, weak, and clumsy mate. And to further mock me, you are also a stripper, and a traitor’s spawn!" He smacked his lips jauntily with a devilish glint in his eyes as he added in a tiny sarcastic tone, "Ain't I indeed the most fortunate Alpha King?"

Eleanor gasped in terror and jolted farther away from him. “So, you are him?” The ruthless Alpha King?

...