Chapter 220: Chapter 221

Read Fated To The Alpha [by Jessica Hall] Chapter 221 – Marabella POV I fell asleep waiting for Jonah to return home; I had no idea what time it was when he did when I felt someone touch me, nearly making me jump out of my skin when I felt arms scoop me up off the sofa, my arms flail out thinking I ma falling off the couch before his scent hits me.

“It’s just me,” Jonah whispers, and I turn in his arms to squint at him in the darkness.

“I was comfy, and I can walk, you know?” Jonah ignores me before he places me in a bed and I realize it is his room, his scent is overwhelmingly strong in here but comforting. I sit up before Jonah suddenly pushes me back down before climbing over the top of me and lying beside me. Did he realize he put me in the wrong room, though I prefer the couch, however, I never sleep in his room here?

“Ah, Jonah?”

“Hmm,” is all he says as he lays down before manhandling me to wrangle me under the blankets.

“Your mother tried to ring you; I accidentally took your phone,” Jonah says before tucking me against him and spooning me. I sigh, giving in and laying down; Jonah wouldn’t hurt me.

“Did you answer it? She tried ringing your phone too,” I tell him before yawning.

“No, figured you would ring her if you wanted to speak to her,” I nod.

“I will probably have to go home tomorrow,”

“You can always stay here with me,” I shake my head, knowing I couldn’t possibly do that, I had to go home eventually, and then Kora and I needed to decide what we wanted to do, and if we could still leave now, we had found our mate. I wanted to go rogue, but I also didn’t want to risk going in heat while rogue. That could end in disaster, and I would be out in the open. Getting comfortable, I jam my feet between his legs, I can’t even remember the last time I shared a bed with someone, probably when I was younger and used to climb in with Eziah when there were storms, I hated storms, the noise, and the howling wind always freaked me out, like the end of the world was coming, or maybe I shouldn’t have watched so many doomsday movies as a kid? Jonah shrieks when my cold feet touch him.

“Feet are like ice,” He squeals and I go to move them. “Put em back, I didn’t say to move them,” he says, and I jam them back. Despite having socks and gloves on, I always had cold feet and hands. Jonah laces his fingers through mine, and snuggles into me. “Ah, that’s better,” He mumbles, burying his fair into the back of my neck.

“So, will you stay here, or am I taking you home?” Jonah asks.

“No, I need to go back. Where did you go? I ask him. Jonah sighs and rolls on his back.

“To speak with Kyan,”

“Did he tell you what his text message meant,” Jonah growls softly.

“Yes, I know what it means, but I can’t tell you,” he says. Kora whines loudly in my head, so Jonah would lie to me too. Shaking my head, I untangle my fingers from his and chuck the blanket back. What is it with everyone and keeping secrets? Couldn’t I be trusted to know? It’s my life, and my own mother has lied to me my entire life. She knew Kyan was my mate and never said anything; Kyan knew I was his mate and never said anything because he didn’t want me?

“Where are you going?” Jonah asks as I toss the blanket back to sleep in the guest room. His words stung, I didn’t expect Jonah to tell me everything but I also didn’t expect him to admit knowing something and refusing to tell me. Especially when what I asked was directed at me. It was bad enough my parents and mate had lied. Couldn’t I have one person I could trust or wasn’t that something I deserved either?

“If you won’t tell me and want to lie to me, fine, but don’t do it to my face; I expected better than that from you,” I snap at him when I feel his hand wrap around my wrist. He growls and rips me back on the bed. A shriek leaves me at his quick movement, only to find myself lying back down beside him with him hovering over me.

“Don’t run from me without letting me explain,” Jonah growls before laying back down on his back and pulling me with him. I look down at him propped up on one elbow, and Jonah pats his chest with his hand wanting me to lay on him.

“Mara, I have never done anything for you not to trust me, so please just lay back down; I want to tell you,” He tugs me down on him when I don’t move, tucking his arm around me and pulling me closer and not letting me escape him. I sigh, resting back on him and relaxing.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that I physically can’t,” I growl at Jonah this time. What a load of s**t that was.

“I’m being serious Maara, Kyan is a...” He growls, annoyed.

“What?”

“I f*****g can’t say that either apparently, “Jonah snaps, “You know his family came from Salem witches?” I nod. I had heard that over the years, mentions of his bloodline being descendant from witches.

That makes no sense, you’re worried that if you tell me, the ghosts of Kyan ancestors will come to haunt you,”

“No, but that is why can’t I tell you,” he says, making me sit up, his voice sounded pained, and I could hear him speaking through his teeth. I reach over him, flicking the small lamp on beside his bed. Looking at Jonah, his jaw was clenched, and sweat was beading on him. His pupils were dilated and I saw his wolf flickering beneath the surface.

“Jax?” I ask as his eyes flickered between Jonah’s beautiful blue to black.

“Ask me?” Jonah says but something with the way he said it made me not want to.

“Ask Mara; I can prove it,” Jonah says.

“You look like your pain though,”

“Ask?” he repeats. Kora presses forward, observing too. She felt uncomfortable, the same feeling washing through me from her, she worried for Jonah.

“What was the text message about?”

“Dom-” Jonah’s word cut off, and I gasp when I see black veins writhe under his when I see black veins writhe under his skin and Jonah holds his hand up. The black veiny marks move under his skin and up his arm when I notice a large scar on the palm of his hand. His entire body tenses, and the scar ripples turning black, the veins seeming to appear like they are coming from it as they move up his arm.

“Stop, stop,” I tell him as his teeth clench, and I see Jax press forward before Jonah suddenly slumps back on the bed.

“You really can’t tell me, so the rumors are true; kyan has witch blood?” Jonah nods.

“Some things I can say, I can’t tell you I everything, not unless Kyan wants you to know until then I can’t speak of it, this prevents me from speaking,”

“So it’s like a?” I had no idea what I was asking, trying to think of what I knew of witches.

“Blood bond, apparently that I am allowed to tell you,” Jonah chuckles, shaking his head.

“How does it work? Does anyone else know?”

“Basically, it is like a non-disclosure agreement, if I tell you something Kyan can feel my intentions to tell you, he can also stop me from telling you something, certain things I already knew which were outlined when the bond was put in place, I thought I wouldn’t be able to tell you, but seems Kyan doesn’t mind you knowing about our weird bond,”

“So, like a mate bond?” I ask confused.

“No, I can’t feel Kyan when he is in human form unless he wants me to; I am mainly connected with his-” Jonah’s voice becomes strained.

“It’s fine, don’t keep hurting yourself, so many people know, does your dad know?” I ask him.

“Only Lucas knows of our bond and now you,”

“So you can tell me nothing?”

“But did you really just learn nothing?” Jonah smiles.

“What do you mean,” Jonah holds up his hand, showing me.

“Wait Kyan is a witch,” Kora gasps in my head.

“Kyan did that?” I ask Jonah, and he nods.

“So Kyan is a witch/warlock,” Jonah nods once.

“I can’t say the words, but yes, that is what he is,”

“But he has a wolf, so how does that work?” Jonah presses his lips together, cursing under his breath. “It’s fine,” I tell him.

“It’s not fine; Kyan should be telling you this. He is your mate,” Jonah says with a sigh.

“What can you tell me then besides Kyan hating me?”

“Kyan doesn’t hate you, Mara,” I go to disagree when he hops out of bed before wandering off out of his room. He returns with his phone that I left on the coffee table next to the couch.

He climbs back in bed before patting his chest, and I quickly lay back down, watching as he fiddles with his phone and logs into his family’s G****e account. He pulls up some old video footage.

My brows push together when he hits play; I see Jonah as a boy sitting next to a dark-haired boy holding a baby while they played on the grass, in what I could tell was Uncle Andrei’s backyard.

“That’s you and Kyan?” Jonah nods.

I watch when I notice the mittens sitting on the grass beside Kyan.

“That’s me?” and I see Eziah just off the side of Jonah when kyan helps me as a wobbly baby stand before toddling over to Jonah, who catches me.

“That was the first time you walked. You couldn’t pull yourself up on the furniture like Eziah could. Kyan said you could, that you need the mittens off;

they made pushing off the ground too slippery, so he took them off you”

“Because of the mittens,” I tell him, oh how I hated gloves when I was younger. They restricted so much. Nothing hurt more than seeing the other kids playing with toys or nature at school but being forbidden to take off my gloves by the teachers. I truly noticed how different I was in primary school;

the group of kids I was playing with found a lizard, and I wanted to hold it, the other kids saying how funny its skin felt.

When I pulled off the gloves, and they passed it to me, it died in my hands. The kids told me I k****d it because I was a bad omen. I remember crying in the girl’s bathroom until my brother found me sitting in the cubicle still holding the lizard I k****d, I just wanted to feel its skin like the other kids did, but instead, it died.

“Why are you crying?” my brother asked, looking under the gap of the cubicle door.

“It died, I touched it and it died,” I sobbed. My brother crawled under the gap to me.

“What died?” he asked, and I opened my hand, the small lizard still in my palm.

“He isn’t d**d. He is sleeping, like granny Marge; she looks d**d to when she sleeps until she snores, lizards don’t snore, that’s why he looks d**d,”

Eziah told me, stroking his fingers down from its head to its tail, the lizard squirmed, and its heart started beating quickly as it moved in my palm.

“See, he had a nap, like Marge does when she naps on the couch with her mouth wide open,” Eziah laughs. I shook the memory away, we were six years old, and that was also the day I realized why everyone freaked out when I would play with their kids.

How they would subtly call them away for dinner when I came out to play or ask for the children to come to help them. They would approach me scaredly before making some excuse for their child to move away from the bad omen. That’s also when I noticed that Eziah was not like me; Eziah had friends and always tried to include me. He was the good child, the safe one, while I wasn’t.

Yet after that day, I noticed the looks I would get. Notice the nervousness of everyone’s parents, their polite excuses seen for what they are, the concerned look my mother would give me, but that’s also when I realized I could protect them from it and protect my family from me.

They didn’t need to worry about me; they did nothing wrong, they never asked for a n evil daughter, so I hid it. Smiled and pretended nothing was wrong, making excuses not to play, that I was too tired, I wanted to finish my book, anything so I didn’t ruin Eziah’s fun or get the worried eyes of my parents.

It wasn’t their fault I was the rotten egg. My family shouldn’t be punished for it, so for my brother and so my parents wouldn’t worry, I would pretend. It was like a game. I thought I was making up for being the bad one, giving them some relief. So at lunches, I would hide in the library, reading my books and pretending the characters were my friends, that their story was mine, pretending I wasn’t missing out on the fun outside when I could have fun in my head.

It was harder at home though, my mother would organize playdates, and I stuck to Eziah like glue, or I would keep my distance and watch him play and pretend it was me. Living through him and his memories, knowing if I did play, I would ruin it for him, pretending his friends were mine. After a while, it wasn’t pretending anymore. It became my safe place, it was no longer a game but survival, and everyone forgot about the inquisitive girl. I became the background of the unseen, and that’s how it had to be.

Every night mum would come in and brush my hair, and I would tell her about Eziah’s day, pretending it was mine when I was actually just the observer of him or the characters in my book.

The video clip plays out, and I hear a person’s voice not in the frame. Yet the voice felt familiar, oddly familiar yet louder. I didn’t understand it, but I knew that voice would speak to me at night when I was a child. Sometimes, I could hear that voice like a whisper behind my ear, yet softer when I was down, crying into my pillow.

“Whose voice was that?” I ask Jonah.

“His name was Dominic Octavian; he was Kyan’s father,” Jonah tells me before kissing my hair. I nod against his chest, knowing I must be mistaken then, and the clip ends before Jonah goes through some old photos, one of me asleep on Kyan’s chest in their living room, he showed me so many pictures when it came to more pictures, but I was older.

“Is that Kyan?” I ask when Jonah suddenly starts scrolling, but I snatch the phone from him. Going back to the photo. I would have been about seven, and Kyan was on a dirt bike, maybe around sixteen. I recognized the area again. It was the training grounds at Uncle Andrei’s pack. Sitting on the bike in front of him was me, yet I had no memory of this, but I had no doubt it was me.

“Why don’t I remember this?” I knew I wouldn’t remember the baby photos, but here I was, old enough to remember this.

“Jonah?” Jonah’s teeth were clenched, and his body tense.

“Jonah?” I demand, sitting up, “Why do I not remember this,” Jonah shakes his head before quickly taking the phone from my hand and locking it.

“You will have to ask Kyan, I can’t answer some things, not because I don’t want to, but now you see, now you see he does not hate you, Mara. He loves you, he always has, just like I do,” Jonah says softly.

Fated To The Alpha Chapter 220 Alpha's Regret-My Luna Has A Son Chapter 149: Epilogue