The Alpha's Rogue ✔️

22 | A Very Good Reason

4738 words

Savannah groaned, trying to lift her head. It felt as heavy as ten rhinoceros, and she soon gave up. The incessant pounding in her temples and throbbing ache all over was enough to make her wish she never had to wake up. Curling into a tight ball, the Alpha squeezed her eyes shut, buried her face in her pillow, and imagined the world didn't exist.

Floating in a fuzzy haze of fragmented memories and fantasies, she couldn't even begin to imagine what her last twenty four hours of life consisted of.

It was all a blur.

A blur of emotions flitted through her mind; anger, fear, doubt, desire, and excitement. What they all meant, she didn't know and didn't have the energy to figure out.

The throbbing in her head increased, partnered with an incessant tapping that burrowed its way annoyingly into her brain.

Sleep wouldn't return, so she rolled over again and forced her eyes open. The light streaming through the bedroom curtains stung, and her throat felt parched as she yawned.

"Nice to see you're not dead."

She jerked up at the sound of that voice. The one replaying in her dreams and promising dangerous things. The one that melted over her like warm honey, yet grated on her nerves with anticipation and dread.

Her eyes found Zion sitting casually in his chair across the room, dressed effortlessly in a sweatshirt and slim-fitting track pants, one leg crossed over the other, his hands laced over a knee. He tilted his head and regarded her closely. "Do you realise what time it is?"

"Uh..." her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. "Late morning?"

He rolled his eyes then released a weary sigh. "Try late afternoon."

"Are you kidding me!" she tried leaping up, but fell back with a groan, her hand clapping to her head as it threatened to explode. "What happened to me?"

"You'd probably rather not remember," Zion waved his hand and gave a vague response.

"What is that supposed to mean? Can't you just... stop speaking in riddles?" she sat up, running her fingers through her hair to untangle it. Then she rubbed her hands down her face to try and ease some feeling back into her groggy existence.

"You really don't remember going for a dip at Chuck's place last night?"

Savannah's eyes widened. "A swim? But I don't even have swimmers here..." Flashes of the previous night invaded her head, memories of Talei and Willow encouraging her to drink, to go for a swim, to throw all cares to the wind and just let go. Her cheeks heated as she looked down at herself, and realised she was only wearing a shirt of Zion's, with no underwear beneath besides pants.

The phantom touch of her mate's hands on her thighs was heavy, the warmth of his breath on her face as he pressed her against the wall and admitted killing...

"Oh my goodness!" she sucked in a deep breath as the memory became clearer. Did he take advantage of her while she was drunk out of her mind? Had he undressed her and ogled her body shamelessly while she was passed out? "You," she lifted a wobbly hand and pointed her finger at him, "are such a jerk."

Pulling her feet under her, she rose to stand, but overbalanced when blood drained from her head. A squeak escaped her lips as she fell forwards headfirst to the carpet below.

Instantly she was engulfed in Zion's arms, never reaching the ground as he caught her in mid-air.

"You, my dear little Alpha, are not going anywhere until you have at least one glass of tea, some water, and sufficient rest," he placed her back in bed and picked up a decent-sized mug from the nightstand.