The Lycan Kingpin's Captive: A Baby For The Beast novel Chapter 2

The sounds of monitors beeping rouse me from my sleep, but the sterile scent of a hospital is what makes my eyes shoot open. I have only ever been in a hospital once and that was to see my mother before she died, but I will never forget the smell.

Even on my worst days when Mikhail would punish me with a silver whip, he would never take me to a hospital to heal up. This can only mean one thing…I’m not where I’m supposed to be.

I sit up way too quickly and my head spins; my hand quickly flies to a throbbing head, but I don’t dare cry out. Showing something hurts you is the first sign of weakness and after everything I’ve been through, I am anything but weak.

The question remains; where the hell am I?

I remember running from Mikhail’s men, bleeding and bruised, but from what I can tell, I am mostly healed now. I ran into an alley and looked behind me, only to run straight into a brick wall.

No, that’s wrong; I ran into someone, a man with red Alpha eyes. He pushed me into an open door and saved my life. He didn’t need to help me, he could have just allowed those men to take me, but he chose to help me. Not only that, the man had a familiar face, someone I had seen before… who is he?

The more I think about it, the more fear creeps into my heart. I have no idea where I am, no idea if I am yet again being held prisoner. There might not be chains on me right now, but a closed door can be seen as a prison cell.

I swing my legs over the bed and get to my feet, only for a sharp pain to shoot up my leg and the left side of my ribcage. A low whimper escapes my lips, but I don’t scream; instead, I suck in a breath and try to walk a few steps.

My little walk to freedom stops when the door opens and I freeze up, only to see a woman walk inside. She smiles at me and offers me a look of pity, one I’ve seen so many times.

“Hi there, you shouldn’t be walking yet. Come, let’s get you back into bed,” she says in a soft, gentle voice that I find myself listening to.

“W-where am I?” I manage to croak out, my voice strained and my throat feeling dry. The lady walks over to the glass water jug and pours a glass of water, before walking back to me and handing me the glass.

“Here you go,” she says and sits down next to me. “How are you feeling?”

I finish the glass of water in three straight gulps and feel out of breath. She takes the glass from my hand and waits for my answer, gently encouraging me with the tilt of her head.

“I’m…my head hurts, and there’s pain all along the left side of my body. I can barely stand on my one leg, but my ribs seem to have healed, although they’re still aching,” I say, realizing that this is the first time I’ve ever spoken a sentence that long.

She nods, then she gets to her feet. “I’m the one who tended to you when they brought you in; you took quite a beating. It’s amazing that you were able to run from those people for so long when you should clearly have been dead,” she says, shaking her head and looking at me in wonder. “Now, I’m going to check all your vitals, okay?”