Page 48

W olfaraine looked defeated.

He was exhausted and drained. But he couldn't sleep. It does not surprise him that sleep eluded him.

Seated on the edge of the bed freshly showered—he should be feeling cool, warm, but he felt hot. His otherhalves were so restless and edgy inside him, they weren't helping his situation.

The King-Wolf lunged forward, scratching his chest, baring its teeth before howling in rage, the deep sorrow emitting from their mate was making the wolf go berserk. But, the King-Cougar was in rage for a whole different reason.

It roared loudly inside him, humping around like a cornered lion, its claws out eager to draw blood and eat flesh. For the past six days, the cougar has been so bloody angry that it wasn't able to kill the human that hurt them and because of that, it had taken to harming him, scratching him up .

Wolfaraine could not feel the pain. There are other pains that measure twelve times higher in comparison.

He took a deep breath. There was no willpower or strength to try taming his otherhalves so he did not bother. Here in his bedroom, away from any eyes and finally alone, he could allow himself to feel everything. To give in.

Finally, he understood why the wolf was instantly taken by her after he'd found out that she was their mate. The Wolf, a part of him with so much hatred for humans like the cougar, was so quick to accept her as theirs, leaving the cougar alone in its rage and abhorrence for humans.

His fingers played with the Ring in his hand. The gold-colored jewelry glowed. This ring is the only sunshine in a ball of darkness.

When Alphose gave him the news about the ring he'd been skeptical, but his cynicism disappeared when he went to the exact place Alfred said it would be and found the gold-colored glistening jewelry staring right at him.

The first thing he did when he entered his bed chambers was to find the remaining pearl of the ring he'd kept safe after the Ring went missing and fixed it to its rightful place. Now, the ring was complete and it was glowing.

But, it wasn't making his pains easy. It wasn't easing the heaviness of his heart. Unlike before.

One side of his mouth twitched into something that would have resembled the shadow of a smile if he wasn't so empty inside. The ring never cured but it eases.

Today, it was doing nothing to ease the burning in his heart. Probably because the ring thinks he deserves it.

Pouty .

Hazel Smith is her name.

Ismena is her name.

He blinked hard, wishing he could block out all those voices, but it would be a futile attempt so he didn't even bother.

She was always pouting. No matter how hard the wolf tried to scare her, baring its teeth and growling at her all the time, the girl was never scared of them.

She'd purse her lips into a pout, glare at him through those shiny brown eyes before she moves a few distances away from him, lowers herself to the floor, and began telling him stories about anything and everything.

That girl was his greatest guilt. It wasn't his packmates who died in that hellhole. It wasn't his female packmates he'd been forced to molest. It wasn't Nalaila. It was her.

Just thinking about the little girl was making his heart bleed. He'd been traumatized after being paired with Nalaila, he'd been sick to his stomach. Worry was eating at him when he never saw or heard about his sister for very long days.

Only for those monsters to get him high as a kite again and bring a victim much worse than his sister. The little girl who had been telling him stories so bravely, with her melodic voice and shiny brown eyes. The girl who was even younger than his own sister.

Those fearless happy eyes weren't so fearless anymore as they dragged her in. She was crying, pleading with them to let her out. Pouty had been drugged, the little girl's body so disoriented he'd felt it through his own drug haze.

When he'd woken up and saw the blood—there was so much of it, as usual—his heart had gone cold. He was dying in misery, but he felt better at the same time. She died .

It was better that she died. She wouldn't have to live with the trauma of what had happened today, for the rest of her life. She wouldn't have to live with the horrors of what had transpired in this lab—in his cage—for the rest of her life.

Pouty deserves better. That little girl deserves so much better. He wished she'd never met a man like him.

Because she died, he'd tried to push the memories of her to the deepest part of his heart, locked it up, and threw the keys away.

That was the only way he could stay sane.

That was the only way he could survive after everything he did to the little girl who looked at him like the sun rose and set on his head, like he couldn't do any wrong.

The girl who looked at him like he would never hurt her.

But, she didn't die.

No, Pouty was alive and she went through worse than he'd imagined because of what he'd done to her. The voice of Alfred as he narrated in detail everything she'd gone through was like a suckers punch to his gut. Bile rose in his throat, just thinking about it.

A scream rose in the air. And another. And another.

They were filled with so much agony and misery that every changeling within a hundred miles would be able to feel them.

Wolfariane’s shoulders tensed. He placed the ring in the drawer before standing up and walking out of his bedroom towards her room. It was a struggle to breathe when his wolf was going berserk inside him like a feral animal.

He entered her bedroom, automatically glancing at the bed, but she wasn't there. He followed the sobs, walked deeper into the room, and found her sitting on the floor. She was so wrapped up in her grief, in misery that she didn't know she wasn't alone in the bedroom anymore .

Ismena startled slightly when a strong hand touched her shoulder. A shudder ripped from her as she smelled the familiarity of those strong arms that were reaching for her again and lifting her up.

Then, she was in his arms. He sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her on his lap before tugging her to his chest. Sobs after sobs racked her throat, she didn't try to hold them in.

"It's alright, Ena. You can let it all out. I've got you." He murmured into her hair, his hand stroking her blond mass in a consoling gesture.

For some reason, his words made her cry harder. Ismena felt like her heart was tearing apart in her chest—literally shredding apart. She was trembling, her tone muffled by his chest as she mourned the man that loved her unconditionally since she was a child.

Her father. Her poor father...

"It...hurts badly. It hurts so bad, Wolfie." She said, hoarsely. Her hand gripped her chest tight. Maybe, if I hold it tight, it would stop breaking.

It's been so long since he consoled someone close to him.

Probably because everyone close to him had died apart from his sister who was still not close to getting healed after so many long years.

As an alpha and a king, he consoled his people whenever they needed him, but it wasn't the same, especially when the woman in his arms was his mate.

His hand wrapped around her fist and pulled it away from her chest, then he adjusted her, placing her chest to his own chest and held her against him tighter.

Then, the Wolf reached out through his chest in a consoling gesture, rubbing against her, soothing her. He closed his eyes and leaned down, pressing her deeper into his chest and rubbing his jaw, his cheek all over her hair .

Warmth spread through Ismena's body, rubbing against the pain, dulling the harshest part of it. The pain is still there but it wasn't as overwhelming, as suffocating as it was before.

Ismena cried and clung to him for a very long time, and he held her. The night dragged by. The moonlight cast shadows on the hurting couple plastered against each other on a dark night.

Finally, she stirred. Wolfaraine took it as a cue and uncoiled from her. Sniffles and hiccups took turns coming out of her mouth, the trembling of her body has subsided too. She became aware of her surroundings again, and the man who was holding her, consoling her, so selflessly.

"Thank you so much," She whispered, sincerely. "I needed that."

"How are you feeling?" Tired blue eyes, filled with masked pain gazed down at her.

"Better." Now, with her pains subsided, she could feel his.

"Good." He rose from the bed with her, she wiggled down from his body and he helped her gently until she found her footing. Then, he pulled away from her.

The silence that followed was filled with tension, laced with awkwardness. She could tell he wanted to leave—he was eying the door so longingly. But somehow, Ismena doesn't want him to leave.

He'd consoled her wholeheartedly just now, not giving a care about himself, but she could still feel the distance between them. Leaving the issue alone and leaving words unsaid was not solving anything. They needed to talk about it.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly .

Through the semi-darkness, she saw him stiffen. "I'm fine. Get some sleep, Ismena." He turned to leave.

"I'm sorry about my father." She said, her words stopping him, "I know he apologized over and over again when he was...still alive but I needed to say it. I—"

"You needed to say nothing, Ismena. Gods, you are apologizing to me ?" Whirling around, he faced her, "What exactly are you apologizing for? Are you apologizing to me for raping you brutally and making you suffer so hard until you lost your life?"

She cringed, "How can you say something like that?"

He shook his head, his wide shoulders so taut, his big body filled with so much tension. Turning away from the door, he walked to the window, crossed his arms, and stared out blankly.

"I worked so hard to shove your memories away, so it is not surprising to me that I didn't recognize you. I should have known. All the signs were there. Same courage, same bravery, same stubborn brown eyes." He swallowed tightly, "No wonder the wolf was immediately smitten."

"Wolfaraine..."

"To answer the question you asked, I'm not alright, Ismena. How would I be alright? I just found out that my mate was among the females I abused in the labs."

She walked closer and placed her hand on his back. He flinched, pulling away as if her touch had burned him. It hurts, but Ismena curled her fingers into a fist on her sides to keep from reaching for him again.

"That girl was the brightest thing in a world filled with darkness and suffering. She had so much light... Then, one day, I snuffed it right out. Just like I did to the light of my little sister." His throat was so dry it felt like aches. He swallowed tightly again .

"It was not your fault."

He laughed. She has never heard a sound more empty before.

"I felt a bit better when I woke, you know. You died, so that means you won't be suffering anymore. And if I push your memories away so hard, I can at least stay a little bit sane." He shuddered visibly when he remembered her nightmares. "I had no idea..."

"I had no idea that she was alive, suffering, going through traumas a girl of eight years old should never have to go through.

Your father narrated everything in full detail, Ismena.

That was when I truly believed him when he said that the guilt had stayed with him for the past eighteen years, and he never forgot, not even for one day. Because, I will never forget either."

The agony that radiated from him was so great, that she felt it deep in her soul. Tears filled her eyes again. How do I get to him? Will I ever be able to get to him?

"Wolfaraine..." Unable to resist the urge anymore, she placed her hand on his back again trying to console him, even if it was just a little bit.

But, just like before, he jerked away from her touch instantly, like he couldn't bear even the slightest contact from her.

His voice was toneless, "My little sister has been stuck in her Wolf form all these years, because of the traumas of what I did to her. All because she had a brother like me. I tried to live with it all these years but it's been so hard, Ismena. It's been so hard."

“It’s not easy for me too, Wolfe, I’m as much a victim as you are. But I know where to cast my blame and it’s never with you. Stop blaming yourself. Those doctors are the monsters here, not you. You’re as much a victim as we all were. ”

“You lost your womb all because of me, you lost your life. What I did to you was so traumatizing that you had to lose the memories just to survive. But even with the lost memories, you still had nightmares every night because even if your brain forgot, your subconscious never did. All because you met a male like me.” He turned and faced her then. His eyes were glassy and…

She has never seen him look so defeated. His shoulders slumped as if his world really came to an end. As if the agony of his feelings were as heavy as the weight of the world and they have crashed down on him.

Tears filled his eyes but he still looked straight at her with that empty expression he has mastered so well. Ismena was almost sure that he was not aware that he was crying.

He looked her straight in the eyes, “I am a strong male, you know. I know how strong and powerful I am. All these years I clung to my strength and my will to keep me sane...to survive. But even I have a limit to what I can take. Even I…”

“Wolfa—“ she tried cutting in.

“…have a breaking point. You know what I thought when your father told me the whole story?” he took a shuddering breath, “I wish I died eighteen years ago. I wish I never survived those labs.”

Another tear fell from his unblinking eyes, “But after he died and six days later living with this new knowledge, with the pain ripping my heart apart…I wish I was never born.”