Alpha’s Black Furred Slave Mate
Chapter 9

As I came to, I realized I was back in the slave shack. I was in a hay bed with a thin blanket laying on top of me. I was still wearing my rags, but it appeared that someone hosed me down to get rid of the dirt and blood that covered my body. My dark hair was also damp, but the top of my head stung at any movement. Once I attempted to move my body, I realized everything stung. As I lay in bed, I could hardly move.

I could feel my body temperature rising; sweat was piling on my forehead and dripping down my features. I found it difficult to keep myself awake.

I began drifting off again; I was sure this was what death felt like.

"Hey... wake up."

I felt a set of strong hands on my shoulders shaking me gently. Fear began to course through me again, thinking that the landscaper was back for round two. I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was dead was probably the only way I could get out of this alive. "Slave, I said wake up."

The voice got louder.

I soon realized the voice wasn't a deep southern twang as it was before. It sounded a bit lighter and even more familiar.

I opened my eyes slightly to see Alex standing by the hay bed. As I opened my eyes, I swear I saw him sigh out in almost relief.

"You are running a fever," he told me.

A familiar woman stood behind him; her shimmering blonde hair and fair features brought me back to the quarantine station. It was the same nurse that vaccinated me. They were both standing in the slave shack, staring down at me. She looked less than pleased to be there and he looked almost worried.

I squinted my eyes, trying to better see them but my vision was too blurry, and I could hardly comprehend what was going on in front of me.

"I called Dr. Olivia Willis to take a look at you," Alex explained.

Why would he call the doctor to look at me? Nobody cared about black slaves. Especially not the Roessler family.

"Say nothing to nobody about this," Oliva told him furiously as she knelt beside me.

She placed a cool cloth over my head filled with cold water that rinsed down my features, soothing away the heat and the pain that went with it. I felt myself sighing in relief as the coldness hit my skin. I closed my eyes, trying to regain consciousness, but I could also feel myself slipping away.

"Try to stay awake," she told me.

Her voice seemed much calmer than it had been.

"You have a concussion," she explained.

That made sense: the blow to my head was hard enough to knock me out.

"I'm going to put this IV bag in your arm; it's just water so it'll keep your body hydrated."

For all I knew, it could have been poison, but I was too weak to fight her off. They very well could have killed me at any moment.

I felt a sharp sting in my left wrist as the needle punctured through my skin. I opened my eyes slightly to see a small tube sticking through my arm where the needle had gone through. I felt the cold liquid pumping into my body, cleaning through my insides and hydrating my very being.

It felt heavenly.

"I'm going to give you a vaccination that will hopefully bring your fever down," she said as she prepared another needle.

Looking over at Alex he was staring at the needle she was preparing. He grimaced at the size of the needle as she inserted it into my arm. I winced at the sharp pain, but it only lasted a second.

"I need plan B," I whispered to him; finally finding my voice after not using it for what felt like hours.

He glanced down at me, frowning.

"What?" He asked.

"I need plan B," I repeated.

"Why?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"I was raped."

His eyes widened as he tried to figure out who would rape a black-furred slave. I wasn't about to tell him it was his own father. Though, when I thought about it, the word rape didn't sound right. It's not like he held me down and forced me to have s*x. There was an obvious pull towards him, an attraction, that made me want him.

I wanted to blame whatever drugs we were on, but my inner wolf had this excitement going on throughout her since our first encounter with Marlon. A feeling I couldn't explain and surely didn't want to explain.

"I don't have any," Olivia told him before he could ask.

"Fuck," he muttered, storming out of the slave shack.

Looking back at Olivia, she was staring in the direction he took off in.

"What are the chances of you being pregnant?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," I lied as a cough escaped my throat.

I jerked from the cough, sending a wave of pain through my body. I groaned out in misery.

"Try to relax," she ordered; her words were kind, but her tone had a hardness to it.

Another sharp pain went through my arm, and I noticed she stuck me with another needle.

"Vitamins to help grow your immune system," she answered my unspoken question. "I don't advise sleeping due to your concussion. But you do need to rest for the rest of the night. If you're lucky, your fever will break by morning."

She spoke as she began packing up her belongings in the duffel bag, she brought with her.

Once she finished packing up her stuff, she gave me one last look before leaving the shack. I groaned miserably in discomfort as I lay on the hay bed.

It felt like a lifetime I was sitting there, waiting. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for. Maybe for death? For the landscaper? Maybe for the wrath of Bob.

What I wasn't expecting was Alex to make an appearance at the shack door. He was holding a small clear baggie with a little blue pill. Throwing it at me, he began to turn away to leave.

"What's this?" I asked him; my voice sounded weak and unfamiliar.

He turned back slightly to answer.

"Plan B."