Falling For My Alpha Stepsister (GL)
Chapter 23: Angel Morningstar Doesn’t Care Whether I Live Or Die.

Chapter 23: Angel Morningstar Doesn’t Care Whether I Live Or Die.

April POV

I was feeling dizzy and weak, but in all the chaos, I was hearing a familiar voice.

The low, husky tone cut straight through the heavy blackness that was pressing down on my brain, sending a sudden, sharp jolt of recognition straight through my chest. My limbs felt completely numb and useless, my head resting heavily against a solid shoulder as my ears picked up the lazy, rhythmic cadence of those words.

The voice of my tormentor.

The sound of it instantly brought back a rush of bitter memories, a sharp sting of old frustrations that made my jaw clench even while my body remained completely paralyzed by the heat.

The voice who destroyed my bicycle on my way to the library one time, and because of that I had to start taking the public bus because she said if I brought another bicycle to the house, she was going to burn it along with me.

That same voice humiliated me during a party I was invited to by Mrs. Morningstar.

She told everyone I was a maid, and I was bossed around the entire party.

She had handed me a tray of empty champagne glasses with a smug, superior grin, directing me to clean up the spills on the terrace while her friends watched and whispered behind their manicured hands.

Why is that same voice here?

I don’t know what was happening, but from perceiving an awful scent to perceiving a scent I hate... compared to the other scent, this one was calming, and I was getting my consciousness back.

When my eyes were finally clear, I realized that I was on someone’s back.

They were piggybacking me, and we happened to be on a familiar road.

This happened to be the road to the mansion.

I was almost home...

Seeing the wine-red hair and the familiar scent, I knew who was carrying me.

Angel Morningstar...

I was on Angel Morningstar’s back.

My arms were looped loosely over her broad, athletic shoulders, my fingers digging lightly into the fabric of her sports jersey as she carried me forward with steady, effortless strides.

Meow. Meow. Meow.

A sharp, demanding sound cut through the quiet rhythm footsteps, the sudden noise coming from right beneath my chin.

And that happened to be Terror.

The cat was strapped securely to Angel’s chest, her paws resting against the fabric as she rode along with us down the empty sidewalk like a spoiled little queen.

I wanted to say something, any word. I wanted to ask her to put me down.

I parted my dry lips, trying to force a stubborn, defensive command out of my throat to tell her that I could walk on my own two feet.

But... her hair.

The thick, dark wine-colored strands were right in front of my nose, swaying gently with every single step she took along the road.

The moment I sniffed her hair... I couldn’t think straight. My mind wasn’t concentrating on anything.

And the worst part was that I was still in heat. I wanted more of that shampoo scent.

It was like I was trying to figure out what shampoo she used, but I was too curious to not know.

My brain was entirely fixated on the ridiculous detail, searching through my limited knowledge of store brands to identify the exact bottle that could produce such a heavy, comforting shield against my fever.

Then my eyes stopped when I realized Terror, from on Angel’s chest, had been staring at me.

And it wasn’t a nice kind of stare.

GRRRRRR!

A low, vibrating rumble started deep inside the orange cat’s throat, the sound rising in pitch as she bared her tiny white teeth at me.

That orange cat was growling.

Really, why does this cat hate me? I’m just trying to sniff her hair.

It was completely unfair, especially since I was the one currently struggling to keep my sanity intact while my own biology was trying to boil me alive from the inside out.

And it was actually helping me calm down my heat.

Not fully, but it was helping.

The deep pressure in my belly was still pulsing, but it was no longer a terrifying, out-of-control monster that threatened to completely wipe out my thoughts.

"Coco, what is the meaning of that? Stop it..." Angel said.

I don’t think she had realized that I was awake.

She kept her eyes pinned straight ahead on the road, her breathing perfectly steady and calm as if she weren’t carrying a full-grown girl and a pet at the exact same time.

Finally, we entered the gate. We were finally home.

I just wondered if Angel had walked all the way here... Did she really carry me from that bus station to the house?

How long have we been walking..

Drop.

That was the first thing Angel did. She dropped me onto one of the couches in the living room.

Then she unstrapped Terror, who immediately went upstairs to her room.

After my eyes followed Terror until she reached her room, I turned to see Angel staring at me. She folded her arms.

Oops.

I was supposed to be pretending to still be unconscious so I could avoid any weird questions.

Don’t want her to know why I was in that place... Her knowing what I went to buy, she would not stop talking about it and start calling me words..

"Give me my backpack and skateboard."

"Ehhh?"

I blinked blankly behind my lenses, my brain still slightly fried from the lingering effects of the unexpected heat cycle.

"It’s on your back."

I checked my back, only to realize that I had been carrying a backpack and a skateboard.

I removed them and gave them to her.

"Here..." I muttered.

My voice sounded small and raspy in the massive, high-ceilinged room, my eyes dropping down to the floor to avoid her intense gaze.

"Good night," she said as she was about to go upstairs.

"W-wait..."

The word flew out of my mouth before I could stop it, my fingers tightening around the couch as I leaned forward.

"What?"

She paused on the bottom step, turning her head back over her shoulder with a bored, questioning look that made me feel incredibly small.

"Thank you... Thank you for saving me tonight. You are the last person I could have imagined coming to my rescue."

I forced the admission out past my tight throat, my cheeks burning with a fresh wave of heat as I acknowledged the massive debt I now owed her.

"I did not save you. It just turned out I happened to be there. I just saw a random girl, that was it. I don’t want my mother’s name on the headlines tomorrow because of someone like you."

Obviously, I’m sure if she had known it was me, she wouldn’t have even thought about saving me.

She would have probably walked right past the bus shelter, leaving me to deal with the disgusting Alpha on my own..

That would have been her opportunity to get rid of me for good.

But also her Mother’s reputation...

Angel Morningstar doesn’t care whether I live or die.

I’m sure she doesn’t have a heart capable of caring.