Content / Trigger Warning
This chapter contains graphic violence, including scenes of physical assault that approach fatal levels.
It also depicts abuse both physical, verbal, and hierarchical/power-based.
Strong language and frequent cursing appear throughout.
Reader discretion is advised.
If you can’t stomach reading about violence or abuse, you can skip this chapter and I will see you in the next one.
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This time around, it took me five minutes of pure bliss to finish my food.
My stomach finally stopped its violent, hollow growling, but the heavy food sat like a stone in my gut, a reminder of how long it took me to eat a real meal.
I quickly tucked the empty ceramic plate beneath a pile of old cardboard boxes, making sure it was completely invisible before I started my nightly routine.
The freezing water in the plastic bucket felt like hundreds of tiny, jagged glass needles piercing right through the skin of my hands.
I didn’t have the luxury of using the washing machines in the pack house, Alpha Richard had strictly banned me from ever stepping foot inside the laundry facility years ago.
So, every single piece of fabric I owned had to be scrubbed by hand until my knuckles bleed.
My fingers were completely numb, turning a dull, ghostly white as I wrung out the heavy fabric of my jeans.
The harsh, cheap lye soap I’d managed to steal from the storage room burned fiercely against the raw cuts on my palms, but I couldn’t stop.
I had completely ran out of clean clothes, and walking around tomorrow in blood-soaked fabric would just invite more trouble.
Washing denim by hand in total darkness is a slow, freezing torment that takes over your entire mind.
Every twist of the heavy fabric sent a dull throb through my swollen joints, the icy liquid splashing against my shins.
The iron scent of old stains mixed with the synthetic sting of chemical lye, making the small, enclosed air of my room hard to breathe.
I kept my head down, forcing my raw thumbs to press into the rough seams.
I squeezed the jeans one last time, my skin so numb I couldn’t even tell if I was gripping the cloth or my own dead fingers, and threw them over the high wire line.
After washing and hanging my clothes, I took a bath this time slow and steady paying more attention to my injuries.
The water was still cold but being that I have just been washing my clothes a few minutes ago made it bearable.
I dipped a small, rag into the bucket and pressed it gently against the deep gashes on my forearms.
The sting was immediate, but I welcomed it; it meant I was still alive to feel it.
I wiped away the layers of dust and dried sweat from the dining wing floors, watching the clear water in the bucket turn a murky, dark gray under the faint moonlight.
Every touch of the cloth against my skin was an exercise in pure patience.
I tracked the outlines of old scar, the memories of past failures, past anger, and past beatings letting the cold cloth numb the heat radiating from the fresh bruises.
It was a lonely, silent ritual, but it was the only care I would ever receive in this life.
Back in my room, I applied the ointment in my ribs and shoulder before putting my clothes for tomorrow on.
The ointment was a miracle worker and for that I was most greatful to Celia.
I was sure by tomorrow my ribs would stop hurting and would have healed.
I crawled onto my mattress, pulling the thin blanket up, desperate for a few hours of peace before day breaks.
I lay perfectly still, matching my breathing to the quiet dripping of the wet clothes on the wire, waiting for my mind to finally let go of the day’s stress.
The thin, scratchy wool of the blanket offered little protection against the deep chill rising from the concrete foundation, but the soothing numbness from the cream was enough to dull the sharp edges of my consciousness.
I closed my eyes, letting the darkness pull me under, praying that morning would be slow to arrive.
The metal door being violently kicked off its hinges was what woke me up.
The sound was a deafening, metallic roar that shattered the quiet box of my room.
A cold blast of night air rushed inside, carrying the unmistakable stench of whiskey.
My heart violently slammed against my ribs before my eyes could even register the massive, dark silhouette standing in the ruined doorway.
I had not even recovered from the shock, when the blows started.
He kept on hitting me, at a point it appeared as if punching me was not enough.
Slam!
My head connected to the concrete floor, It felt like my whole brain was spinning.
I could swear I saw stars floating behind my eyes.
Seeing my reaction Alpha Richard was if he was injected with chicken blood, he started to smash my head without any rhythm, a cry escaped my lips with tears rolling down from my eyes.
This was it, it was the day I finally died from all these beating.
When I die, and meet the Moon Goddess I was going to ask her what I ever did wrong for her to assign me this cruel fate.
Did she believe I killed my parents too?
What was it?
What did I ever do wrong for her to abandon me with these people.
The skin on my cheek tore against the rough stone, and the world dissolved into a chaotic mess of blinding white flashes and heavy thuds.
He wasn’t using the controlled discipline of an alpha punishing a subordinate; this was the raw, frantic violence of a man who had lost his mind.
Every strike of his heavy fist drove my skull back into the concrete, the impact vibrating straight down my spine until my teeth rattled.
I tried to pull my chin down, tried to shield the back of my neck, but his weight was crushing me into the dirt, pinning me like a broken insect under his knees.
The back of my head felt wet, although I couldn’t see it, I know it must look horrible.The fluid was hot and thick, spreading quickly through the matted strands of my hair and sticking to the dust on the floorboards.
The copper smell filled my nose, drowning out the scent of the lye soap and the cold air.
After a while he stopped.
He sat back on his haunches, his chest heaving like a bellows, his hot breath hitting the side of my neck in ragged, uneven gasps.
His fingers were still buried deep in my shirt collar, cutting off my air.
“You bastard how can you be sleeping when everything is falling apart” he said to me.
He resumed his kicks to my stomach.
“Filthy mutt”
Kick.
“You fucking bitch”
Kick.
I curled my body to protect my stomach and my ribs as much as I could but it was useless doing that.
He was deliberately targeting my already broken ribs.
There goes the almost healed ribs.
He stopped to take a breath before dragging me by my hair and drove his fist into my ribs hard enough that something gave up with a wet crack.
The sound was a dull, sickening snap that echoed inside my lungs, completely stealing my ability to scream.
The air trapped in my throat turned into a wet, bubbling wheeze as my entire left side collapsed inward.
The burning pain was so intense it turned my vision completely white, a white-hot iron rod driving straight through my torso and pinning me to the floor.
“Those arrogant Blood Moon bastards think they can just roll into my territory whenever they want?
Showing up in the middle of the night without a single phone call?
Disrespecting my pack and me the Alpha?!” He spat at me.
Ahhh so this was what the beating was all about.
Blood Moon Pack.
So this was it?
treating me like a diary, passing his aggression onto the only person who cannot fight back.
I was the scape goat for his anger towards those men that arrived today.
He was a coward.
A pathetic, small-minded bully who had smiled and bowed his head to the massive warriors in the courtyard, only to run behind the pack house to unleash his humiliation on a wolfless orphan.
He couldn’t challenge Alpha Alexander’s men, so he came here to prove to himself that he was still a king by breaking my bones in the dark.
From the corner of my eyes I could see the sweats running down from him as he unleashed his fists on me.
He screams his frustrations out loud.
Before grabbing me again by the hair and raining punches all over my face.
I made an effort to block my face but that only made him more mad and he continued to deliver heavy punches to my face.
The skin over my eyebrow split wide open, the blood immediately rushing down into my right eye, blinding me in a warm, red fog.
I tried to pull my arms up, tried to lace my fingers together to protect my temples, but his fists simply smashed through my weak defense like it was nothing but paper.
My jaw unhinged with a loud pop, the joint shifting painfully as another blow connected with my chin.
I was tired.
I was in a lot of pain but I was tired.
My vision started to tunnel and I prayed to whatever was up there for this to be it.
I was ready to leave this world because it has brought me nothing but suffering and pain.
I hated myself, I hated myself for not fighting back, I hated myself for letting them do this to me, I hated myself that if I somehow survived this, I was going to end it all myself.
But I prayed I never survived.
I never get to walk out of this room alive, again.
The darkness at the edges of my sight was growing wider, a heavy, welcoming circle that promised to take the fire out of my skin.
I stopped trying to raise my hands.
I let my arms fall limp against the concrete, exposing my throat, exposing my chest, giving him a clear shot to just finish it.
Just one more hard strike, I thought, a desperate plea rising in my chest.
Just hit me hard enough to stop my heart.
“Alexander stays at his pack like a god, sending his lackeys to sleep in my guest rooms!
He is mocking me!
He is trying to show the whole Council that I am nothing but a dog to him!
Am I a joke to them!
Do you think I am pathetic” he yelled.
Another blow, this one across my eyes.
Blood filled my mouth.
I tried to turn away; he followed, his knee driving into my stomach so the air left me in a broken sound.
My lungs completely locked up, as I tried to draw oxygen through the blood pooling in my throat.
I couldn’t expand my chest; every tiny attempt to pull air inside felt like a jagged piece of glass was slicing through my lungs.
My throat made a high, rattling click, a shallow, desperate sound of a drowning animal.
“Wolfless mutt, I should have put you down the day you ran out of those woods crying.
Should have let the wolves finish what they started.” His voice dropped into something closer to a growl as he slammed into me again.The force of his voice sent a vibration through my skull that made my stomach turn with nausea.
He gripped my collar again, lifting my shoulders off the floor just to drop me back down, using my own body weight to break what little resolve I had left.
” Useless Omega, It’s because of freaks like you in my pack!
You curse my pack!
You make us look weak!” He shouted ruffing his hair like a mad man.
My eyes were swollen shut but I could see a little from my right eyes.
Our eyes met and he smashed my head more into the concrete.
“Pathetic little omega cunt.
You think you get to look at me like that?
You think you get to breathe without permission?” he spoke pinning my head more into the concrete before he started delivering blows to my ears.
My ears started to ring in the worst way possible.
I couldn’t make out what he was saying but I could feel his breath around my neck.
The ringing inside my head grew into a deafing roar, like a freight train screaming through a narrow tunnel.
The physical sensation of the air moving around his mouth was the only indication that he was still shouting, the heat of his foul breath burning against my torn skin as my senses began to peel away one by one.
He finally stopped with one last sicking punch when he saw I stopped moving entirely, stood up and walked towards my damp clothes hanging on the wire, took one from it and started to clean my blood off of his body.
When he was done he throws the clothes at me and leaves slamming the broken door.
The wet shirt hit my face with a dull, heavy slap, the damp lye soap mixing with the copper taste on my lips.
The metallic scrape of his boots vanished into the yard, followed by the distant, heavy bang of the outer fence line.
I tried standing up minutes later but I couldn’t move my body, I was barely breathing.
My ears were still ringing I was sure I had gone deaf because I couldn’t hear anything again, I couldn’t hear the night creatures around me, my eyes totally gone except the right one that I could barely see from, my ribs were surely broken to pieces now, I could feel the blood dropping from my head drizzling to my neck.
I tried to drag myself towards the corner where I had hid the ointment but they were basically not listening to me any longer.
My body was like a bag of cement that I could not carry or drag.
So I laid right there on the concrete in my own pool of blood bleeding in the dark with no one to save me wishing I died right here and now.
I laid there completely shattered.
My poor baby…
We can all agree that Alpha Richard is a coward like what the actual fuck.
Want to know what happens, add to your library.