The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15: 015: Punctured trust

~ ROSELLE ~

I’m scared. Hell... I’m fucking terrified. Why wouldn’t I be when that girl already walks in and reminds me exactly how I’m going to end up dead?

I try to sweet-talk myself into believing he’s kind... that he’s nothing like Warren and my former pack. I try every sane reason to convince myself, but there’s no logical explanation strong enough for me to hold on to the idea that Ronan wants to save me because he loves me for me.

There isn’t. She mentions his brides-to-be who are women with stronger genes, women who can talk, women who are better princesses than I’ll ever be.

And hell yeah, they end up dead. They fucking do.

There’s no possible way in the universe that all he feels for me is anything more than some twisted, drawn-up need for a bride. Because what am I? Nothing but a mute who’s useless. And if I add murderer to the list...

Hell. I don’t even know what that makes me anymore.

Like I’m sinking deeper into my fears, I’m certain it’s all going to end the same way it does with Warren. That’s how the fucking game keeps circling back.

Dad dies, and I’m smothered with pity. People always look at me with those sad eyes, reminding me every day that I wasn’t the cause, that I was just a child.

Those looks of pity that tell me I’m not at fault and shouldn’t be taking the blame for something I didn’t do. The care that makes me feel so fucking helpless. The guilt burns deep inside me, like I’m being seared with a fucking iron.

Every fucking bit of it makes me despise myself.

And then the sudden switch comes; The hate. The rumors spreading around that I’m a murderer, and the looks people give me in return... like I’ve committed some unforgivable crime. Those scorching stares that feel like they’re burning straight through my skin.

The blame, being accused of my parents’ deaths. Being told how unfortunate and cursed I am, reminded that Mom dies giving birth to a cursed child like me, and that I end up burning my father alive.

Every word sinks its claws deeper and deeper into me until I can’t contain it anymore, spreading through every part of me like a sickness I can’t cut out, can’t outrun, can’t escape, and then the punishment follows.

The voices in my head are loud, questions piling up while memories I’ve fought so hard to bury keep resurfacing. This might end up being the same fucking cycle all over again.

Ronan is all over me, trying to feed me, trying to take care of me, showing every act of kindness possible, the pity, the concern. All of it.

His voice. Those soft looks in his eyes that tell me he isn’t the demon they paint him to be.

I believe it. By the goddess, I do. But I’d be stupid. I’d be fucking stupid if I lean on it.

It would only be a matter of time before these gestures, this softness, this tenderness eventually switch up... especially when he finds out about the real me. About what I did.

That’s enough to end me quickly. Warren was nice once, the young little boy who always gave me flowers, played alongside me, and dreamed of us running the pack together one day. I remember believing him, believing every smile and every promise because back then it never crossed my mind that people could change so completely.

Until the switch comes.

The same hands that once wiped away my tears are the ones whipping my back. The same boy who used to bring me flowers is the one holding a candle over my skin, watching the wax burn deep enough to leave marks behind. Every strike of the whip tears into me, every punishment coming one after another until I lose count of them. Those same eyes that once looked at me with kindness never hesitate when it comes to hurting me, and no matter how much I scream or cry, it never stops.

That’s what terrifies me the most. I know how quickly kindness turns into hatred. I know how concern turns into disgust. I know how easily people stop seeing me as a person and start seeing me as a curse, as a murderer, as the reason everything around me falls apart.

And if Warren can change, if the boy who once swears he’d spend the rest of his life beside me can become the person I fear most, then what’s stopping Ronan from doing the exact same thing?

Mara, as he calls her, is right. I need to escape, but where do I go? Where do I run? I don’t have a fucking place to go.

Going back to my pack only means getting locked up... or being dragged right back to Ronan.

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