The Alpha's Breeder 59 Where?!

The man pus.h.i.+ng my wheelchair took the doc.u.mentation, pocketed them in his long trench coat and wheeled me away.

Once done, they let him push me past so they could move on with the next pa.s.senger as the lines started to get longer.

Although I tried to look at them with a pleading look, my facial muscles remained the same.

I was frozen into place and rather helpless.

And the words 'help me' were stuck in my throat, laying tormented in the recesses of my lungs.

After that, I was in and out of consciousness a majority of the time that I was moved from destination to destination.

He would give me sedatives every few hours through a syringe that he had in the luggage.

He made sure never to miss a shot or get caught while giving it to me.

Throughout the travel, I was never given the opportunity to ask for help or escape because of the drugs in my system.

It was obvious that he knew what he was doing and I couldn't do anything about it.

The frustration was quick to turn to hopelessness.

And when the final shot came, I was put under for a very long time.

.

.

.

"Miss? Miss? The plane has landed," a feminine voice called through the darkness, breaching past the bleary black that I was encased in to finally reach out to me.

I gasped sharply for breath, expected clean fresh air but was met with a rather sickening, yet familiar, stench of urine, sweat, and musk.

It was almost like the feeling of being jolted back to life with a defibrillator.

My head hurt badly, a strong headache gnawing painfully at the initial intake of breath.

My eyes were wide open, but my vision was still blurry.

Other than that, there was also this loud buzzing in my ears when I tried to focus on the scenery before me.

I squinted my eyes from the bright light that nearly blinded me before closing them to get used to the brightness.

After several seconds, I fully opened my eyes like a newborn baby and almost had to double take at the oddity of my current location.

The clean and neat rows of chairs and cabin walls told me all that I needed to know.

I was inside of an airplane, and a pretty flight attendant was crouched in front of me with her hand on her knee.

She was calling out to me yet hesitant to touch me.

Even I didn't want to touch myself right now.

The mess that I was currently coated in was just plain nasty, but no one would have really noticed unless they paid extremely close attention.

I was still wearing the black trench coat so she couldn't see what was underneath, but the smell was a great deterrent.

Those men certainly did a good job at covering me in their scent and concealing Eros' since they had managed to put me on a plane and land me here without him noticing.

It was obvious that they didn't want to talk too much in case I would recognize their voices later on—if I managed to come back to the pack.

Just the thought of it make my blood riled and, for the first time, I had a hit list.

With only 2 names on it, but still.

One was Zanthos.

Surprise surprise.

And the other happened to be the dark voice of the male who had spoken while they all jerked off over my paralyzed body.

I have that voice memorized to heart.

And I am a.s.sured that I would be able to recognize it if I hear it again.

If I manage to see Eros, I think he would be able to scent the rest of those men and possibly help me exact revenge.

Because, not only have they dug a grave for themselves, they were going to willingly climb in it after Eros is done with them.

Zanthos better pray to whatever G.o.d he believes in and keep watch because I will be outside his window waiting for the chance to give him a taste of what he gave me.

I am sure that he will enjoy it as much as I did.