Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 105: _ Guardian Angel

Chapter 105: _ Guardian Angel

The butchery was chaos.

Don Diego’s men were all fists and rage, the workers were all fear and flailing limbs, and the butcher... well, he was still on his knees, quivering so violently he looked like a chicken that had lost its head but hadn’t realized it yet.

And then came my father’s final decree.

"Take him," he ordered in a voice that was as cold as steel.

The butcher whimpered. Actually whimpered, like a kicked dog. His arms flailed uselessly as two men grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet.

"Señor De la Vega, I... por favor..."

His words dissolved into a pitiful sob as my father simply turned his back on him, already finished with whatever half-hearted pleas the man could offer. It didn’t matter. Nothing could stop what was coming.

I knew what was coming.

And yet, when they began to drag him toward the exit, something in me clenched.

This wasn’t mercy. This was just a delay.

The butcher fought, thrashing like a fish yanked from water. His cries rang through the butchery as he was carried out, echoing across the bloody tiles. Behind him, his workers scattered like cockroaches, desperate to disappear before my father’s attention turned back to them.

I didn’t move.

Did I even remember to breathe?

There was nothing I could do.

Moreover, I was next.

I could feel eyes on me; watching, waiting, probably wondering if I was going to say something. Maybe hoping I would.

But what good would that do?

I stayed where I was, hands clutched so tightly together that my knuckles ached. I kept my head down, watching my father’s polished shoes pivot sharply before he strode toward the door without sparing me a glance.

"Vámonos."

The order was sharp, quick, and absolute. It was the type that was meant solely to be followed.

I followed.

I always followed.

.

The ride home was suffocating.

The butcher’s pathetic sobs filled the car like an annoying background hum and every time he hiccupped out another desperate "Señor, por favor, I have a family!", my father’s fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to end him right then and there.

I sank deeper into my seat, staring out the window, watching the city blur past as the car drove.

The air was filled with the scent of blood and raw meat, clinging to my clothes, my skin, and my hair. I felt disgusting. I needed to shower. No—I needed to scrub my soul clean.

The butcher let out another silly sob.

My father exhaled pinching the bridge of his nose as his patience stretched thinner with every second spent in tolerating the butcher’s pathetic wails.

I swallowed hard, choosing my words carefully.

"Papá... maybe you should..."

"Cállate."

...Alright then.

I clamped my mouth shut.

The butcher wasn’t so wise. He kept pleading, voice cracking and his desperation making him stupid.

"Please, señor! I swear, I swear I—"

The sharp slap of leather against skin rang through the car before silence came.

I blinked.

My father didn’t even look at him as he lowered his hand, the back of his palm still slightly red from where it had smacked against the butcher’s face.

"Say another word," he warned menacingly, "and I will have my men pull over right now."

The butcher swallowed whatever sob was next.

The rest of the ride passed in heavy quietness.

.

.

The moment we arrived home, my father finally turned to me.

His dark eyes swept over me, filled with quiet disapproval and regret... Perhaps, that of having me as a daughter.

I braced myself for the hell that surely awaited me.

"Go to your room," he said flatly. "And do not come out until I tell you to."

I stiffened. He wasn’t punishing me tonight? After Axel had humiliated him and my working in the butchery?

"But—"

"But nothing."

His voice dropped lower, dangerously at that.

"You have humiliated me enough for one day, María José."

I clenched my jaw.

Of course. It was about his humiliation. Not what had happened to me. Not what I had suffered. Just his reputation, his name, his pride.

The butcher gets dragged off to some unknown fate, and I get locked away for embarrassing him.

Because I was an inconvenience.

Because I was an Omega.

My throat burned, but I swallowed it down. "I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Papá."

My voice came out quiet. It would have been great if I received my punishment now. However, Father had adjourned it.

This meant I’d spend the rest of the time before then in desperation and anxiety. That... would definitely hurt even more than the punishment.

Father wanted this to be as excruciating for me as possible, I guess. I glanced up at him, letting the innocent inner child in me who had always yearned for him strain her neck out and reflect in my eyes.

Father saw it and I saw his lips pressed together.

And then I ran.

I ran inside the house, up the grand staircase, through the hall, past the portraits of proud De la Vegas who had never known an ounce of shame, and into my room—where I slammed the door shut behind me.

My chest was tight. My breathing uneven. My skin crawled.

I needed to get out of these clothes.

I ripped them off, shoving the soiled fabric into the hamper, yanking open the bathroom door, and stepping into the shower.

Come hot water. Come Steam. Come the scent of lavender soap.

I scrubbed until my skin was raw. Until my nails ached. Until the butcher’s touch, the stench of meat, and the weight of my father’s disappointment felt like they could finally be washed away.

They couldn’t.

But I tried anyway.

.

When I emerged, dressed in fresh clothes, hair still damp, I collapsed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

The day replayed in my mind.

The butcher’s hands.

Axel’s scoldings.

The way my father’s slap echoed through the butchery.

The way my voice had been so small. My stomach twisted. I curled into myself, hands fisting my robe.

I hated this. I hated everything.

I shouldn’t have apologized. I should’ve screamed at him. I should’ve fought.

...Would it have even mattered?

Tears burned at the edges of my eyes. I tried to hold them back.

I failed. They slipped down my cheeks.

I pressed my face into my knee. Sleep eventually found me.

****

Nothing could have ever prepared me for the turn of events tonight. I had been sleeping... been having a mild nightmare of Father chasing me with a stick in his boxers.

At first, I felt the warm touch, how heavenly it felt. In my dream, I saw the Angel. He came at Father with a rod.

He gave Don Diego a reality check. "Why accuse María José of humiliating you when it is you who is running around in his boxers?"

My heart had never beat for anyone as it did for this guardian Angel that moment. It didn’t end there... he kissed me.

Softly.

I loved it.

And then, I opened my eyes, and there he was... journeyed all the way from the lands of my dream into reality.

Axel stood right above me. He jerked away, guilt written all over his face. Yes, I was surprised to see him in my room so late at night, kissing me at that.

It was supposed to feel creepy. But it didn’t. All I knew was that my guardian angel was right in front of me.

So, I jumped on him and kissed him back.

.

.

I woke up to the sound of war.

At least, that’s what it sounded like.

Doors slammed. Footsteps reverberated across the floors. Someone—most likely Camila... was shrieking at the top of her lungs, and judging by the sharp crash that followed, something expensive had just been sacrificed to her rage.

For a brief blissful moment, I buried myself deeper into my blankets, willing the noise to disappear. Maybe if I pretended to still be asleep, the universe would be merciful and erase whatever crisis was unfolding beyond my door.

Then I remembered.

The Alpha’s family was coming today.

My body jolted upright like I’d been electrocuted. My heart beat faster than a cheetah. Shit.

Camila’s voice rang through the villa again, high and pitchy. "María José, levántate! I swear if you’re still asleep..."

What the hell was her business with if I was asleep or not? Fucking bitch.

However, when I remembered Father, I scrambled out of bed so fast my feet tangled in the sheets, and I nearly ate the floor. I caught myself against the nightstand, knocking over a lamp in the process. It landed with a thud, but I didn’t stop to check if it had survived.

I needed to shower. I needed to change. I needed to...

My fingers brushed against my neck, and I froze.

A sharp, pulsing ache spread through my skin in a deep and unsettling way, as if something had been etched into my very flesh.

My breathing ceased. My hands flew to my throat, searching, feeling...

And then I found it.

A bite mark.

I stared at the faint indentation of teeth on my skin, still tender to the touch. The realization hit me like a brick to the face.

Axel had bitten me last night.

{A\N}

Hi friends,

So sorry there’s only a Chapter today. :( I’m currently down with the cold and have not been feeling too well. I will resume my usual 2 Chapters daily as soon as I feel better. Our February Golden Ticket Challenge seems to be shaping up.

Thank you so much for reading and for your support so far. <3

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