by Unknown
He lied.
I'm shifting. Years after I was supposed to, I'm changing for the first time. The bodily motion less fluid than that of more experienced wolves, it's accompanied by intense agony.
Writhing in pain, I listen to my own whimpers and the heavy footfall growing louder in his approach.
'My Alpha. My mate.' No words but a growl. I can feel my hackles rising, my ears standing straight, muzzle slightly parting in a warning. I glue my eyes to his in a challenge.
Easy there, girl. His voice rings inside my head, my last sanctuary crumbling under his feet. He stretches out his hand, palm laying in invitation as he inches closer to me.
I give him a threatening growl, stopping his unwelcome advance. My wolf is a fighter, more feral and dominant than her human side. And she denies him the right of physical contact.
Unworthy, her response comes like a whiplash, the kiss causing him to wince and take a step back from us. His face hardens in resolve, letting us know what will follow if we refuse to bend to his will.
Once Alpha - always Alpha.
We bare our canines, body shifting into a fighting stance. Neither one - the Alpha or his mate - breaks the stare, none willing to back off and admit defeat.
Be still, he commands, taking a tentative step toward us. We want to listen, are compelled to obey, but our rediscovered pride won't allow us.
We launch, canines burning with the need to pierce his tender flesh, rip it off of his bones. Growling he jumps at us, shifting to meet us mid-air, ruined fabrics hanging on his wolf body. We crash, falling to the ground, biting and clawing at each other in a battle of life and death until blood seeps through fur.
The mind-link is buzzing with the power of his commands. Stop. Yield. Accept my claim. Accept my authority.
We refuse to. Instead, we welcome every bite, every mark his claws leave, every wound scarring the flesh, for as much as it hurts us, it hurts him more.
And then, as teeth clamp over our neck, we welcome death.
(4) No Cure For The Broken
|Regan's POV|
Questioning looks meet me when I step inside the house, carrying her in my arms like the small and broken child she is. A child.
A wolf should never hurt their mate, but I'm not just a wolf. I'm an alpha.
Yet, maybe I should let her go, maybe I should give up on that dream about a mate, maybe I should protect her from myself. Can I do that? Will the beast allow it after waiting for so long to find her?
I grit my teeth, wishing there was an easy answer to my problems, the main one laying bloody and naked in my arms.
"Alpha?" Hayden approaches me gazing down at the girl and then turning his inquiry to me. "What is the meaning of this?"
I shake my head, hoping to postpone the explanation I know they all want.
"But why are you bringing her to the house? You could have left her-"
"We'll talk about this later," I cut him off before he can object or question my actions further. "Go find Christine. Send her to my room."
Thoughtfully, he's scratching the back of his neck, confusion clouding his sharp features until, finally, he finds his composure and gives me a slight nod.
"As you wish, Alpha," he agrees, his full lips forming a tight line as his hazel eyes narrow with suspicion towards the female in my arms.
I sigh out and make a beeline for the stairs as soon as Hayden steps aside.
Walking at a slower pace, I'm trying not to cause her more damage than I already have and avoid the questioning looks of my pack who are frowning upon my unusual behavior.
Not surprisingly, they are curious about my reasons for carrying her in my arms like a baby. Why is the monster taking care of the victim?
I take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut for a split second to prevent them from showing the truth I'm not even sure I can accept.
I need her to be my mate and for this she needs to be alive.
Once ascended to the second floor I carry her through the long hallways, the house now like a deadly trap I can't escape.
It feels like I'm all alone in this place while the walls are closing up on me.
Every mistake hanging in the air around me, it's like these 'what if's' are back now.
What if I didn't take over my father's pack? What if I didn't come here? What if I never humiliated her in front of her pack? What if I never turned them against her?
She would have fought harder. Maybe killed me if she could have.
I kick the door to my suite, padding up to the bed and placing her there as gently as I can... as gently as I've ever been to anyone. No one ever taught me how to do this.
Do I plead for her acceptance? Do I beg for forgiveness for protecting what was mine? Do I force her to be mine?
What am I to her? Who am I to her? Her alpha or her mate? Can I be both?
Looking down at her I see how battered and bruised her frame is, how much I've hurt her. Bite and claw marks are complementing the blue and black areas on her small, malnourished body.
She hasn't been eating properly. No low-ranked wolf does. They are all sacrificing their share for those who need it more.
I stay hunched over her for a while, looking at my mate as she lays with her eyes closed and her dark chocolate hair flat and greased on my pillow.
She's so thin, her cheeks hollow, her skin translucent where she is not marred by color or bruises oozing out droplets of blood. That same blood is dripping on the white sheets, the streaming flow slowly turning to small drops of liquid as the wounds close, red clothing over the damaged skin.
"Alpha?" a soft whisper sounds from behind me, startling me out of my daze.
I glance over my shoulder, finding Christine's lithe frame waiting for my instructions. There's a gleam in her crystal blue eyes, one I recognize as assessment. She is trying to guess my intentions towards the girl.
"I suppose I'll just get to it," she states with trembling voice, her fear obvious in the way she's cowering away from me.
She crouches down, opening her bag and fishing out her notebook instead of her medical kit, obviously mistaking my silence for permission.
As I watch her taking out her pen, the anger roars back its ugly head at me, hissing at the sight in front of my eyes.
I take the distance between us with an audible growl, ripping the notebook out of her hands and causing her to tumble down to her knees.
"She isn't your fucking test subject!" I shout at the healer, my hands tearing the pages off.
"This" - I fling the offending notebook in her face - "I don't want to see this ever again. You understand me, Christine?"
"B-b-but y-you wanted me to d-do this," she stutters.
"I don't want it now, damn it," I snap.
"Y-yes, Alpha," she mumbles, shoving the notebook into her bag and picking up the several paper sheets I've torn off, hiding them away as well.
"Go check on her!" I bark at her, barely able to contain my rage and not hurt her.
"Yes, Alpha," she squeals, scurrying towards my mate.
She bends over my Scarlet's small form, examining her for several long minutes and then produces a syringe out of her bag.
Tearing it out of its packaging and taking a small bottle of medicine out of her kit, she sticks the needle in as I observe her silently and try to guess what is it she's going to inject my mate with but the healer offers me no explanation.
"Aren't you going to heal her with your abilities?" I question, eyeing the syringe with caution when she raises it in front of her. She taps it with her fingertip a few times, spraying some of the medicine out, then graces me with a side-wise glance.
"There's nothing my healing can do for her," she informs me flatly, testing the waters. "Her body is healing fast on its own and this" - she flicks the syringe in her hand - "will help along the way. However, it's not her body you need to be concerned about."
I gnaw on my lower lip, rankled by her statement. "Don't use your abilities scarcely on her, healer, or
it will be only a matter of time before my use for you expires."
She shivers, the blood draining of her face by the threat. However, now when she's out of my immediate reach, she doesn't cower from me like she usually does. Instead, she lets out a small whimper and sticks the needle into my mate's arm.
Once she's done, she gathers her stuff and skirts past me on her retreat outside.
"Tell Hayden to call a pack meeting," I bellow after her.
She turns back from the doorstep, peering up at me with her arctic eyes and nodding her head in submission.
"Can I speak openly, Alpha?" she inquires, fear reeking off of her small form.
"I'm listening," I allow.
"And you won't punish me or hold my words against me?"
"I won't." I agree.
She heaves out a sigh, then let's the words tumble out. "You shouldn't be taking care of someone like her. She isn't worth it. You know how different she is. You shouldn't be keeping her here still. She is a risk to this pack."
"I can't send her away, Christine."
"Why? Why can't you? It's been two years. First, she was a child, too young to be send away. Then, she wasn't strong enough to become a rogue. Others would have killed her by now so why are you still keeping her around? I really hate to break it on you, Alpha, but she'll never be one of us. She's different, she's a threat to us and this isn't going to change no matter what you do or how you try to discipline her."
"She's my mate," I admit quietly.
"What?"
"She's my mate, Christine." I repeat now a note louder.
"So... That was why then?"
I shake my head. "No, I found out this morning," I say.
"And this is what you did to her?" She waves a hand toward my mate who's laying unconscious in my bed. "Well, Alpha, I must admit you have a very peculiar approach on women. I can already imagine how happy she's going to be with you once she wakes up."
"Is this funny to you?"
Shaking her head, the humor is quickly washed off her face, her expression suddenly serious.
"She's not fit to be your mate. You can't mate her. She's broken..." she trails off, flashing me a bitter smile. The condemnation is there - in her look and in her voice.
"No amount of healing will cure her since it's not her body but her soul that's taken most of the damage. You broke her and you'll ruin your pack if you accept her now," she predicts, a somber note sneaking into her voice when she glances at the girl laying on my bed.
Unusual as it is for her to show any emotion, I see regret in her eyes. "The girl from two years ago would have been a fine Luna for us, not this one," she sighs and grows silent.
"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
"Yes, I've said what I needed. If I may be excused now... Alpha?" she whispers, her eyes pleading with me to just let it go.
I nod. An alpha keeps his promises and today is not the day I break mine.
"Go. I appreciate your honesty, healer," I reassure her, knowing that this is just the beginning.
Others will approach me with much harsher words. As soon as the announcement is, made my men will attack me, blame me for breaking their Luna's trust, for making her hate them when she is supposed to care and protect them, trust them to protect her. And the females...
I sit on the side of the bed, looking down at my mate, thinking about those words long after the healer is gone. And, then, with a groan, I pick my girl into my arms, carrying her into the bathroom and wondering how the hell am I ever going to make this right.
(5) Always Gonna Be Tomorrow
|Regan's POV|
Leaving her alone is the last thing I want to do. So fragile, so scared, even in her sleep she's whispering things I wish I won't hear ever again.
She keeps repeating it, her small body shaking just as her voice is. Not my name. Never my name.
"Alpha," she says again and again. Like a mantra, she's been taught to repeat even when she's fighting for consciousness.
I hate it.
"Alpha, please..."
I take one last look at her, lingering at her form, draped in my sheets like a gift wrapped with care and love. It's not love she feels for me but something else, much darker, much more different than love. Hate? Fear?
Probably both.
"I'll be back before you know it, Scarlet," I promise her quietly, uncertain if she can hear me, not sure if I even want to know that she does when another spasm rakes over her body, her skin paling even in her dream-filled state.
No, I don't want to know if it's me who she's listening to.
I leave the room, the difficult task I'm about to do weighing on my chest like a ton of bricks and clogging the air path to my lungs.
"There is someone waiting for you," Hayden tells me as soon as I step out.
I raise a questioning brow, waiting for him to explain. I've been the one to call on a pack meeting so, of course, I know there are people waiting for me, however, I don't think my beta has the pack in mind. "Who?" I play along.
"A visitor came a while ago," Hayden supplies, a displeased expression on his face as his chocolate skin pulls tight over his face, hazel eyes sparkling with the gleam of calculation.
"A vampire," he ventures carefully.
My blood runs cold. A vampire? There's only one vampire who will ever dare come here and nothing good ever comes out of his visits.
"Take me to him," I demand. His head sinks downs in compliance.
Shoving my hands into my jeans' pockets I follow Hayden down the hallway to my office. The man stops in front of it, motioning towards the closed door.
"You let him in without my permission," I accuse seething with anger and causing the lesser wolf to backtrack away from me, caution written all over his face as his big form recoils in submission.
"I didn't know what to do. You were occupied with the girl and I didn't know if I should interrupt." His excuse is weak, just like the man himself. Weak and undeserving of my anger towards him.
I take a deep breath, my nose wrinkling with disgust when I catch on his fright-stained scent, his fear like balm calming the beast clawing inside me to let him out. Reminding myself that there's no one to take up the beta's position in place of Hayden, I let the air out and place my hand on the knob.
"We'll talk about this later," I promise before leaving my beta out of the mess I have to clean up.
I let myself in to find the vampire perched on the leather couch opposite my desk, the curtains conveniently pulled to shade the light coming into the room. I know he won't burn like the stories tell, but it's going to be chafing for him to stand under direct sunlight. It's a pity really that old ones like him are not much affected by it in terms of real damage.
I approach his sleek, suited form, his golden hair pulled into a low tail on the back of his head, the way he usually wears it.
"Magistrate Nightingale," I greet him, the word coming as a growl. It's not the fact that he's a vampire that's bothering me. The quarrel between wolves and vampires is long gone now when the old ways are replaced by political mediums. The problem is that he's one of them. The Council. The people who proclaimed themselves to be rulers of all other species but humans and took it upon themselves to regulate all which they deem fit regulation. It's only natural for a leader following the old ways, such as myself, to find the notion of being governed by some made-up and self-proclaimed authority rankling.
"I didn't expect to see you here," I grit out, forgetting the pleasantries one of his rank should be offered. Then again, agreeing to be kept on their leash is not something they should expect from any Alpha, least of all from an Alpha like myself. "Such a surprise to see you've been granted permission to leave your city. Doesn't happen often, does it?"
"Now, Regan, there's no need for such hostility between old friends," he chuckles, flashing me his signature grin.
"Old friends my ass!"
He raises a brow. "So I guess it was someone else who kept you out of certain leader's no
tice when you took it upon yourself to overthrow your father's reign over your pack. You disappoint me, my friend. All these efforts of building an alliance going to waste, such a pity," he remarks, reminding me of what has been at stake and what he has done for me, what I've been forced to agree to because of his interference.
"It's been too long since the last time I considered you a friend so let's skip the charade and get to it. Whatever you've come to require of me to do I'm done being a part of your schemes. You may as well get it out of your head that I'd ever play your games. I won't be doing your dirty work so you should just go."
He stands up from his seat, now looking straight at me instead of up. "I see how it is. You'll keep pretending that there's no war in the supernatural world and let your kind die. If this is really how a wolf from the royal bloodline acts, then I'm not surprised your kind refused to bow to your ancestors and to you, Regan." The disappointment in his voice is palpable. "You are a disgrace to everything your name stood for."
"And you're any different, Michael? Is that what you think when you go hunt poor, unsuspecting humans, then feed them your false promises of immortality only to sell them to your masters? Is the thought that you do it to protect your own letting you sleep at night?"
"I know it's not the right thing to do, Regan." He sighs. "But at least I'm trying to do something about it. What are you doing, though?"
"I'm protecting my own, just like you are."
He shakes his head. "No, you're hiding. You're refusing to face the consequences of our actions. You knew you'll need to step up and become a Council member when you dethroned your father but what did you do then? You decided it was too much responsibility for you and refused to join the Council, instead contented yourself with ruling over your pack and deserted the rest of the moon children.
"You were the one who caused your pack's fall and what you did when it happened? You fled with the cowards who were still on your side and came here to slaughter innocent people and take their land. You hid here and kept pretending your kind's fate had nothing to do with you, that you were only responsible for the ones closest to you."