Falling in love with my Ex's Alpha Chapter 143

Since the earliest memories etched in my mind, violence has been an unyielding, uninvited guest in the landscape of my life. At the outset, it lurked like an insistent shadow, relentlessly pursuing my every step.

In its relentless pursuit, violence became an unsettlingly frequent companion, an ever-present figure that I couldn't shake off. Initially, its dark presence invoked fear and distress, yet as time wore on, an odd familiarity took root. I began to overlook its darker aspects, finding myself almost accustomed to its chilling embrace.

Until one day, it stopped altogether. When she came into my life, and suddenly, she managed, even though she's human, to disarm me in a way that I don't know how to deal with.

"What's wrong with you today?" Jason demands, raising an arm just in time to deflect the blow I've aimed his way. Our usual sparring sessions have taken a sharp turn. Normally, I'd restrain myself, but today, I need an outlet for the pent-up energy triggered by thoughts of a certain little human.

I feign indifference, launching another jab toward his face, masking the impending kick. My Beta knows my patterns too well, though, he anticipates my moves, swiftly seizing my foot with his left hand and delivering a punishing blow to my shin with his right elbow. The impact elicits a grunt, frustration brewing within me for failing to foresee his counter.

"You're slipping," Jay hisses, giving me a forceful shove with both hands. "Sloppy isn't your style, so spill it—what's going on?"

His words cut through the tension as I stagger backward, reeling not just from the physical blow but also from the weight of his question, urging me to confront the emotions I've been trying to suppress. My fight with her.

"Fuck off, Jason. I'm not in the mood."

I charge towards him with an abrupt burst of speed, catching him off guard and disrupting his equilibrium, gaining a fleeting upper hand. The impact of my punch lands squarely on his face, a moment of brief dominance seized, followed by a relentless barrage targeting his side.

As our ferocious dance of combat ensues, my mind involuntarily drifts to the little human girl, who's provoked a storm within me. The mere thought of her recent actions ignites a tempest of anger, a surge of raw emotion that threatens to consume my focus.

I hate fighting with her.

That insolent little brat.

I didn't even tell her that I wanted to mark her immediately, and she was already angry.

Could it be that she doesn't think I'm enough for her to carry my mark on her tiny neck?

Why is she acting like this? Why is she always surrounded by evil males?

Every time I see her around some other male, I just think of my father, always reminding me that I shouldn't trust anyone. How *weak* I will be for doing this.

Who the fuck did she think she is to continue to disregard my commands?

How dare she?

Time and time again, she didn't listen – acted however she pleased – even though it should be obvious that I would know what is best when it comes to her. It makes me want to tie her up in a pretty little bow and shove her to the back of my closet, where no one and nothing could ever find her again.

My head jerks back violently from Jason's forceful uppercut, causing me to bite down on my tongue. A metallic taste floods my mouth, the coppery tang of blood invading my senses. With an unexpected blend of amusement and defiance, I chuckle despite the sting, spitting the crimson liquid onto the floor.

"Is that your best shot?" I mock. There's a desperate desire in me for more, a yearning to be consumed by the adrenaline, to be numbed by the relentless flurry of strikes.

Hit harder. Kick faster. Make me forget.

What frustrates me the most is that she is just a human girl. One that has disobeyed me countless times in the span of the past few months we've spent together. She was careless and infuriating.

So if I'm right, why the fuck am I so damn bothered by the look of anger and sadness in her eyes when she walked into the packhouse?

Why can't I shake the pull inside of me to go to her, lock the door to our room, and fuse the keyhole with fire?

Maybe then she would learn a thing or two about doing whatever the fuck she pleased.

The thought fills me with renewed energy, fueling my movements as I accelerate my assault. I deftly counter his every move, intercepting his advances and executing a swift maneuver that sends him crashing to the ground.

As he sprawls on the floor, I swiftly pivot, bringing my elbow down with precision onto the sensitive juncture of his neck, exerting a calculated amount of pressure to restrict his breath.

Desperation colours his attempts to dislodge me, his futile attempts to disrupt my stance proving ineffective against the advantage I've secured. I maintain my position, steadfast and resolute in my control over the situation.

Jason's hand taps the mat thrice, a clear concession that he's yielding. A self-satisfied grin stretches across my face as I withdraw my elbow and stand fluidly, giving him space to stand on his terms.

Jason rubs his throat, shooting me a glare that's laced with irritation. "Remind me to never spar with you when you're in one of these moods."

"Hmph."

"You're lucky I can heal fast," he mutters, wincing as he gingerly probes his side. And he's right, a damn good one at that, "I think you cracked a fucking rib," it would only take him a minute or two to heal that injury.

"You'll live," I retort, shrugging.

"Apologize to her, you probably fucked up!" Jason's voice booms from the bench where he's hunched over, a mock edge to his words despite the evident pain.

I throw my middle finger over my shoulder on my way out the door.

🐺 🐺 🐺

Making my way towards our bedroom, I realize that I can probably do with a shower.

Maybe it had to do with our fight hanging over my head, but it feel more likely that I just want to get my hand wrapped around my little mate's little neck again and feel her erratic pulse.

I enjoy the spark in her eyes whenever I touch her – partially fear and excitement.

It makes me want to bring it to the surface so that I could stomp all over it and crush it, just to summon it again.

My little sun truly has no idea just how fucked she is.

I smile to myself as I reach our bedroom door.

As soon as I walk into our room, I see her combing her red hair. It's obvious how tired she is because she can barely hold her arm up for long. The pregnancy has been leaving her like that in the last few days.

I walk over to her and stand behind her, she looks at me through the mirror for a moment.

And then my little mate finally decides to direct her voice towards me. "Why don't you trust me?" her voice comes out soft, her hands dropping to her lap in defeat.

I'm surprised my teeth don't crack under the pressure as I gnash my jaw violently.

"Why don't you obey me? Why don't you stay away from those fuckers?"

My words bite, but she refuses to recoil.

I grab her by the arm and drag her toward the bedroom. I sit her down, and she looks up at me with those big eyes of hers. "Why don't you want my mark? What do I have to do to make you obey me?"

"There's nothing you can do, Kaiden," she says in a maddeningly calm tone despite not knowing the full extent of what I'm capable of. She's seen so much, yet she still seems to forget all she's seen.

"You need to! You're mine!" I snarl.

She means everything to me.

She folds her arms across her chest defiantly. "Well, I won't."

She gets up from the bed and rolls towards the door, "You know what? I'm sick of this conversation!"

She leaves the room and I immediately follow her.

There are some people in the corridor, and as she passes by them, she smiles and treats everyone well, regardless of whether they are male or female, she treats everyone the same, greeting everyone and distributing all her love to them.

This makes me so fucking angry! It makes me see red.

Why is she smiling at everyone, and I don't get any of those sweet smiles?

None of them. *Not one*. My little sun's face only goes hard when she looks at me, eyes glinting with frost.

I pull her arm and enter the first empty room I find. "Are you really going to fucking keep treating me like this?"

"Or what?"

Oh, she is pissed!