Too Beautiful for the Alpha

October 17th, 1991

I was in the bath last night and thought about drowning myself, then I realized that my body would never let that happen so grabbed my razor from the shower and broke it to get at one of the blades. I sat in the bath and repeatedly pressed it against my skin, but I was too scared of death to go through with it. I hid the broken razor under the cabinet where the little slot at the top leaves just enough room to hold it. He'd never see it. The only reason I found the slot was because I was looking hard enough. It is there with the blade, and I know I should not keep it, but it is nice to know that I have a way out.

It has gotten worse. I never want to go outside anymore, and when I try to get dressed and look nice, everything I put on makes me upset because I hate everything I own. I sit in the bedroom when James is gone, and when he's back I sit in the library. No one ever goes in the library so I have made it my little place.

October 23rd, 1991

I am in the bathroom again. James is sleeping. I had to write something about this down because I cannot think straight. We had sex. Just two hours ago. I did not provoke him like before, I was not dressed nice or asking for it like before. Actually, I had completely let it go for a few weeks and this came as a surprise. He did not ask me if I wanted to because he knew that I had tried before. I could not tell if he wanted to or not, which is what had me in distress. It may have been a job for him. The thought of being pregnant makes me sad.

It felt good. I closed my eyes and imagined that he was enjoying himself and that made me feel better. He did not complain or anything like that. It had to feel good for him too.

Maybe a baby is what we need. Maybe a baby will bring us together. He cannot hate me if I'm creating his child, can he? I do not think so. I think this will make him happy. I will hope for it then, a child. I will hope even harder for a boy even if I had always thought of having a girl. He needs to know that I can do this job well. I can provide what he needs. I will check the library tomorrow for any books on pregnancy and childcare. I will be good at this.

I set the diary to the side and get up from my bed. Broken lamps were swiped up, bookshelves were picked up, things were back to normal besides the shattered ones. Alpha Grant is gone, so I make my way down the hall and into his bedroom. There's his scent again, but I power through it and venture into the bathroom. It too is dark. The tiles in the shower are dark, the counter is a dark granite, and the towels are a deep grey. I open the cabinet under the first sink and feel around the top, but there's nothing, so I go to the next and feel for the slot, and I find it. My heart races as I take something out, a razor, a broken one. How? How could it still be there?

I study it and remember that there is the stray blade, but when I stick my hand back in to feel for it, I find nothing else. My heart drops. What had Julianna done with the stray blade?

I back out of the cabinet and lean against the wall, my legs sticking straight out ahead of me as I sit quietly. She sat in this bathroom, and I wonder where. I look down at the razor and squeeze it. The two blades are rusted terribly and the plastic has gone brown. The part where she had broken it is gone.

I will take the razor and place it under my sink.

It should be with me just like the diary. He does not deserve to have it here—not that he knows of it—it belongs with me, I understand her. He's just like his father, isn't he? You'd think he'd learn from past mistakes.

stairs, and I freeze. Before I can decide on what to do, his bedroom doors open and I know that I am found. My scent must stick out like neon on black in here. Looking down at my hand, I stick the razor back in the slot just as the bathroom door opens and the cabinet door closes. Alpha Grant stands before me silent at first as if he's

"Why are you in here?" He asks in

went to the hidden library, stole likely his mother's diary, then came searching for the

before," he says, catching me off guard, "you laid in

curl up in the corner. What am

assumed your things were

of my things

Grant crosses his arms. "And what would

grab the sheets and push them back, picking up the first pillow, then the next, then I push back the covers some more, then I toss the pillows to the other side of the bed. "You moved it. You knew that I found it, so you moved it," I say accusingly while turning back

looks amused by my embarrassment. "So you found what? A book? And you left it here after you found it? And now you're back again looking through the bathroom

know what it was. It was my shirt. You

it? You left this

get over me. That's how Mates work. I know how Mates work. You can pretend all you want. You can make me feel like nothing all you want, but that's

and pushes me against the wall, his body radiating anger. The air escapes my lungs as I hit the wall, and

you," he says harshly, "why can't

I here!" He jerks me, grabbing my shoulders, almost shaking me to understand. My head hits the wall bluntly and I wince, my hand nursing my wound. He knows he's hurt me

grabs me again, and this time not from anger. Before I can register what's happening, he brings his lips down to mine and kisses me. My body can't help but react in its desired ways, but after a couple seconds, I push him away. I look up at him, wanting to continue badly, wanting him to

us, but before it can suffocate me, I rush out the door and do not look back. I know if I go back in there, I'll try something

I want him to do everything to me. It's the bond—that's

I feel like an animal in heat. I am the unmated