Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret

Chapter 8

upstairs to your room and check the cabinet in the bathroom.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Aaron hasn’t tried to constrain me since the altercation where

I fainted and Adam argued with him. I have the run of the

mansion and grounds again. I’ve been instructed to stay in Aaron’s room at night.

“Are you going?” Adam prompts.

I automatically stand and start moving through the mansion.

There aren’t many wolves around this time of day. They’re

all out at their various jobs either here on the packlands or

outside in the human world.

I take the stairs carefully. I’m still a little weak, but what’s

worse, it’s hard to breathe. I’m winded by the time I reach the

top floor which is alarming. I’ve been running up and down

these stairs for a decade.

I head into my room and close the door.

should be thankful that Aaron bothered to have it repaired, I suppose. I didn’t relish the thought of

having no privacy.

Not that he’s allowed me back into this room. He’s insisted I

sleep in his bed each night ever since I fainted.

I can remember a time when I would’ve been thrilled that he

wanted me beside him.

Each night, he slings his big arm around my waist and holds

me close.

wards off the chills, but it leaves me feeling bad each

morning.

I can’t seem to get past the years of pain and longing.

I’m probably just channeling all my resentment about my prognosis toward him. But so many years

have been wasted, and now…

I sigh.

In the bathroom bottom drawer, I find several neatly labeled

containers.

“How did you get these in here?” I ask.

“There’s a batch in this room. And that other room where they held you last time. I brought them when I

first came, after Dr. Henley shared your prognosis.”

I stare at the pill bottles.

“Those are a nti-canc er medicines and painkillers,” Adam says. “You’ll need to do a formal

chemotherapy routine, but these can get you started. Leah, in a battle like this, every moment

matters. Please. I beg you. Take the pills.”

I inspect each one then rip the labels off, shred them up and then flush them down the toilet.

“Please don’t tell me you threw them out.”

“No. Just the packaging.”

He breathes heavily.

“He doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know, Adam.”

Whether sic k or not, I have my pride. I’ve swallowed enough of it these last few years. I won’t use my

illness to gain sympathy,

and Aaron wouldn’t even necessarily sympathize with me

anyway.

“Don’t drink coffee. Or alcohol. Avoid sugary foods.

Remember to take the meds on time…”

Adam takes a deep breath and rattles off more instructions.

Foods to eat. What to avoid. As if the list of do’s and don’ts

really matters.

“Leah, are you listening to me?”

I smile into the phone. “You have a nice voice.”

Adam is speechless. Then: “You’re not listening.” He’s angry

“Thank you,” I tell him. He’s the first person to care about me in a long time.

“You’re still so young…Please, don’t give up,” he mutters, his

voice choking with emotion.

I feel his sorrow through the phone.

It’s comforting. Like someone in this world actually cares

about me.

“Leah,” his tone is so grave I feel my stomach sink to my toes. “There’s more I have to tell you…”