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Chapter 33
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2021-10-31 17:56:30Dior
I come home to an abandoned house. Most of our furniture has been removed and taken out of the rooms. Even my parent's collection of crying clown paintings and the weird dog statues are gone. The flower pots are emptied, shoes removed from the hallway, the lamp doesn't go on, and the walls seem taller than before.
"Did they... Leave me?" I ask no one in particular.
I take a moment to regain my breathing and drop my bag of football equipment as I stare at the floor, which seems to crumble beneath my feet. Every fight and every battle I had with my parents—it all comes back to haunt me until I stand there, feeling like I'm not enough.
How could they do this to me?
Loneliness wraps me up like a blanket. It becomes harder to breathe without sharp pain slicing me apart. My eyes are blurry, but I was taught not to cry as a man.
I'm the alpha of my pack, and I'm a guy—shame on me for being human even for a moment.
I'm technically
VeliciahSomeone is awakening to their powers
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DiorI'm sitting inside the living room with many new pieces of furniture that I've summoned by simply tapping at images from the IKEA website. All I needed was my phone. I feel like a freaking wizard—did someone forget to send me that Hogwarts letter?I discuss with myself. "Hm, perhaps I should get a new bookshelf next? Not that I have any books to put into it, but Patricia might need one for her new home. She reads a lot."Right then, someone bangs on my door, and the sound isn't very pleasing to the ears. The person on the other side is angry. I question if I should even bother opening my door, yet I also realize that I can't hide from my pack members forever. I'm still their alpha, even if they are aware of me being a hideous monster.Sighing, I push myself back on my feet. "I'm coming!"My hand curls around the lock, and then I barely have time to see who is standing behind the door before I'm punched straight in the face. A knuckle bur
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Patricia Alice is sitting in the kitchen when I tumble out of my bedroom. She lifts her chin and gives me a sad smile upon noticing me. It breaks my heart to see my friend like this, and I immediately wonder what has happened to her. Alice has been living inside her room like a hermit for days. I can also tell she has been crying. Her eyes are puffy and red. "Hi..." Alice is staring down into her coffee cup, barely even blinking. I hand her a kind smile, ignoring the fact that we are both trotting around in our pajamas. "Good morning," I say and walk over to open the fridge. I have a craving for yogurt. "Did you sleep well tonight?" "Not really," Alice says, and then she inhales as if bracing herself to tell me something important. "Can we talk?" I turn around. "Of course!" Alice's lips twitch, and then she faces me with tears glistening on her cheeks. Her eyes are usually curious and pla
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Patricia Startled, I stumble backward, dropping my mother's severed head with my eyes bulging out of their sockets. Shudders are running up my spine, and the brisk wind does nothing to calm my nerves. I watch the head drop and land in the grass, and then I stare at it until an icy hand is placed on my shoulder. My first bone-deep instinct is to prepare for a fight, but Alice's concerned eyes make me relax. Even with Tiffany back in town, I consider Alice to be my best friend. I trust her a lot. "What happened?" Alice asks in a soft tone. "I thought I heard you scream, or did I imagine that?" I don't even remember screaming—that's how shaken I am. My body isn't working, and my mind is running in circles. Yet I lift my hand and point at the wrapped package in the garden. "T-That was placed on the porch…" I stammer. I'm not sure if this is a dreadful nightmare. It seems like one, and I would do anything to wake up from it. Alice follows m
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Patricia After I've voiced my suspicion, everyone seems to come to the same conclusion—that I'm right or that the killer is someone living on our grounds under our radar. It would make the culprit a human, which Elijah finds rather doubtful, but we aren't leaving anyone out. Alice yawns, stretching her arms. "Will you be alright sleeping by yourself?" I smile at her and nod encouragingly. Elijah and Wesley are borrowing our guestroom downstairs, and while the haunting image of my father will probably prevent me from sleeping, I can't bring myself to tell Alice. She is already super worried about me, and I don't want to keep her up for the rest of the morning. "Yeah, I'm fine. You head upstairs." Alice hands me a smile of her own. I suspect she doesn't believe me to be fine, but one glance at the man listening in on our conversation got her stifling a laugh. "Alright," Alice beams at me. "Sweet dreams, Patricia." I wave her off,
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Alice I roll my eyes the second the door to my room is closed. The older Dior is sitting on my bed with a cheese tray in his lap. He is munching away while looking at some nature program with sharks in it—typical older Dior. "What if someone finds you in here?" I ask as I near my bed, slipping a knee over the mattress to climb up. The duvet is dark blue cashmere, summoned by none other than the prince of darkness himself. "Let them." Dior doesn't even look away from the screen. "Patricia seems to have finally found the other me, and I'm not exactly a threat to them—I want her to be happy." I sigh and glance at a lion eating a zebra. "Why do you keep coming back here, then?" "Why not?" Dior snorts and his lips form a grin. "This timeline is heading in another direction so far away from my own that I find it interesting, and besides, you still need my help." I lean my back against the bedrest. I'm still wearing my clothes, but I'm used t
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Patricia Dior got me pinned against the shower wall with his head slightly tilted to look down at me. There isn't an ounce of fat on his body, and the arm resting on the tiles is heavy with well-developed muscles someone would expect on a pro athlete. I swallow thickly, nervous under his intense gaze, drinking me in. His full lips quirk up higher, and his playfulness shines through his eyes. Jesus Christ—what am I supposed to do? My idea had been to shower, but at the moment, I'm having a hard time ignoring Dior and his carved body. My lower belly is somersaulting already, hyperaware of the alpha man dwarfing me. And even though I'm met with the brick wall that is Dior's front, I'm aware of the muscular bubble butt hiding behind him. "I want you so badly," Dior lowers himself to kiss my neck. It proves hard for him. I'm tiny, more than an inch shorter than Dior, nothing compared to his six-foot-something body, and every part of me flutters when he pic
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