The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 101

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 101: Feel The Heat**

[Evelyn’s POV]

In that moment, I desperately wished the ground would split apart and swallow me whole. The sound that erupted from the depths of my throat was nothing short of mortifying, a raw, anguished noise that betrayed my internal chaos. What made it even worse was the fact that Michael seemed to understand the weight of my distress.

The heat coursing through me felt like a wildfire, relentless and consuming, growing increasingly unbearable with each passing second. What repulsed me more than the heat itself was the sensation of his hands grazing my skin… a touch that, against all reason, dulled the sharp edges of my pain.

Yet, deep within the recesses of my mind, I was acutely aware of how wrong this was. I didn’t want Michael’s hands on me—I didn’t want him within a hundred feet of me. The very thought made my stomach twist.

The moment that wretched keening sound escaped my lips, I could see the realization dawn on his face. Michael was fully aware of my vulnerability, and that knowledge sent a jolt of terror through me. What was most frightening about this entire situation was the necessity to entrust him with my safety, to hope he would choose to act honorably.

I pressed my palm firmly against his chest, my intention clear: keep him at bay.

“P-Please,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “I just… I just need…”

What I needed was to reach my brother’s room, to slam the door shut behind me and lock it tight. I didn’t care what pain or damage surged through my body; I knew the only remedy for an aphrodisiac was to surrender to it.

But I was neither in the right place nor with the right person to allow myself to succumb.

Michael’s gaze roamed over me, a mix of genuine contemplation and unsettling curiosity. But with each passing moment, that gnawing feeling in my gut intensified. The look in his eyes sent icy chills down my spine, and not in the comforting way one might hope for.

He resembled a wolf, cunning and predatory, closing in on its unsuspecting prey. That sickening, devious grin etched on his face would haunt my dreams for many nights to come.

“I know what you need,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

With a swift motion, he knocked my hand away and seized my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze.

“Why don’t you let me give you what you need, huh?” he taunted, his tone laced with a faux playfulness that twisted my insides with nausea. “Let me take that ache between your legs away. I can offer you so much more than Alexander ever could.”

The revulsion I felt was palpable. The dizziness and nausea that crashed over me like waves were enough to make me want to lose consciousness. But I couldn’t afford to let that happen—not now. There was no telling what Michael might do if I were to succumb. I fought against him, my resistance unwavering.

“I will never sleep with you,” I spat, my voice filled with venom. “Leave me alone.”

Michael merely chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance as I continued to push against his chest. The drug coursing through my veins robbed me of my strength, rendering me weak and vulnerable. It was utterly diabolical, this aphrodisiac designed to strip away any resistance.

He seized my wrists, pinning them above my head, eliciting another mewl from my lips. A flicker of twisted excitement danced in his eyes. “Oh, so you like it when someone takes control,” he remarked smugly.

Tears began to pool in the corners of my eyes, and I felt a wave of despair wash over me. Good God. I was in dire need of help.

“Please, don’t do this,” I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper.

In my mind, I cried out for Alexander, wishing for a miracle that he could somehow sense my pain and fear. No matter how much I struggled, the situation only worsened.

When I felt Michael’s other hand drift down to the hem of my shirt, a sharp bolt of terror surged through my veins. His unwelcome touch sent me spiraling into a panic, and I screamed, my voice reverberating off the silent walls. I never imagined I would hear a similar distressed voice call back to me.

“EVELYN!!”

My heart lodged itself in my throat. “Alexander,” I whispered, the name escaping my lips like a prayer.

[Third-Person’s POV]

The moment Alexander and Oliver stepped into the house, urgency propelled them forward as they began their frantic search for Evelyn.

I know she’s here.

The atmosphere was thick with an unsettling eeriness, the house feeling almost void of life. They soon encountered Isabella, who wore an expression that seemed both uncomfortable and guilty, as if she were harboring a secret crime that Alexander had yet to uncover.

The pain and fear etched on her features ignited a furious fire within Alexander.

“Michael!” he bellowed, his voice echoing with authority.

Michael tore his gaze from Evelyn, glancing over his shoulder. His body went rigid, frozen in place as if caught in a trap.

“No…” he uttered, disbelief washing over him.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife before I snap your neck with my bare hands,” Alexander snarled, fury radiating from him.

Without hesitation, he seized Michael by the collar of his shirt and yanked him away from Evelyn, dragging him several feet back before watching him crumple to the floor with a disgruntled groan. Evelyn instinctively curled her arms around herself, burying her face in her hands, seeking refuge from the horror.

Michael unleashed a barrage of words, all aimed at maintaining the facade he had been parading around. But Alexander said nothing as he approached his stepbrother, his fist clenched tightly. With a swift motion, he punched Michael, the force knocking the air from his lungs.

Michael’s face quickly became a canvas of bruises and red streaks of blood, yet it wasn’t enough to quell Alexander’s rage. It was only when Oliver intervened that he pulled himself back to the present.

“Alexander, you need to get Evelyn.”

His body moved on instinct. Alexander rushed to where Evelyn remained curled up on the floor, desperately trying to pull her from the depths of her mental haze.

“Evelyn,” he called softly, his voice filled with concern.

Her eyes flickered open, revealing a look of shock that twisted his heart. “You… You can walk?”

Something was terribly wrong. Her body was tense, coiling and releasing like a spring on the verge of snapping.

Her words slurred together in a panic. “Alexander…” He watched in horror as her eyes rolled back, and she succumbed to darkness, her body going limp.