My heartless Alpha

flashback

Jarem's POV

I sit alone in my office, a drink clutched in my hand, staring at the swirling liquid as if it holds all the answers. But nothing can drown out the storm raging inside me. My mind spins, replaying every moment, every flash of hurt in her eyes. Zayra... I did this to her. I caused her pain. And now, that pain gnaws at me from the inside out.

I can't stop the memories, the way I treated her. The way I destroyed her happiness—happiness that should have been ours. She belongs to me, but how can I live with the reality of what I did? The regret is a weight pressing down on my chest, suffocating me. I was so blinded by my own anger that I couldn't even see her suffering.

That day... gods, what kind of monster was I?

I was furious, out of control, when Alpha Titan called me. He had the nerve to question my leadership, to tell me that one of his pack members saw my mate racing on a motorcycle—without even telling me. It felt like a slap in the face. Everyone seemed to know something I didn't. How dare she embarrass me like that? How dare she disrespect me?

The thought of anyone challenging my authority—especially another Alpha—made my blood boil. The way they looked at me... they already disliked me because of how I ruled, how I commanded with an iron fist. But this—this felt like too much. It was as if Zayra herself was showing them my weakness, undermining me. I had to remind her who I was. I had to make her understand.

I can still feel the burning rage that consumed me when I ordered my Gamma to bring her home. He was terrified, as everyone is when I give orders. She arrived within the hour, just like I demanded. I was waiting, barely able to contain the fury coursing through my veins.

She walked in, trembling. The sight of her should've softened me. But it didn't. My hands stayed in my pockets, fists clenched, as I turned to my Gamma, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Is your job really that difficult?" I asked. "You have one of the most important jobs in this pack, and yet you can't even keep my mate in check?"

He stood there, head bowed, his shame visible. I could see his fear, but it wasn't enough to calm the storm inside me. He apologized, but I wasn't listening. All I could see was her—Zayra—trembling, her eyes wide with fear.

I snapped. Without thinking, without hesitation, I slapped her. The sound echoed in the room, louder than I expected. She staggered, and my Gamma stepped forward to help her. But a single look from me froze him in place.

She pressed her hand to her face, her voice barely a whisper as she told him it was fine. That it was okay. But it wasn't okay. None of this was okay. The rage within me was consuming me, eating me alive.

I dismissed him, but not before reminding him that our conversation wasn't over. He left, but my focus remained on Zayra.

"You like to provoke me, don't you?" I spat.

"No, Jarem... that wasn't my intention. I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice shaking.

"Sorry?" I sneered. "Do you even understand how it makes me look when my own mate disrespects me? When another Alpha questions my control over you?"

"I didn't mean—"

"Do you know how humiliating it is?!" I shouted, cutting her off. "To have someone question whether I can lead because I can't control you?"

Her apologies fell on deaf ears. I didn't want to hear them. All I wanted was to make her feel the pain, the embarrassment, the frustration that I carried. She needed to learn that disrespect had consequences.

I threatened to send my Gamma to patrol the borders for a month without seeing his mate or his pups. I wanted her to feel the weight of her actions, to see the devastation she caused.

"Please don't punish him," she begged, tears forming in her eyes. "His pup needs him."

"Then you'll take his punishment," I growled, the decision made before I even realized what I was saying.

Her eyes widened in horror. "What... what do you mean?"

"Ten lashes," I said coldly, my voice void of emotion. "You'll count them, one by one. If you stop, I'll start over. And if you don't, I'll add another."

I saw the disbelief, the horror in her eyes. And yet, something dark inside me reveled in it. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. The power I had over her—it was intoxicating. I wanted her to break. To know that I was in control.

"Take your clothes off. All of them. Now," I ordered, my voice commanding, unyielding.

The way she looked at me, the way her lips trembled as she bit down on them... it stirred something darker within me. The need to control her, to break her, consumed me. And I used every bit of strength I had, not just in those lashes, but in the other ways I punished her that night.

I didn't stop. I couldn't. It wasn't just about teaching her a lesson anymore—it was about releasing the pain I'd carried for so long. The pain of my past, the wounds my father left in me. The fact that she had grown up with my mother, while I was left to suffer under my father's cruelty... it all came crashing down on me.

I raped her.

I took her with a brutality that made her cry out, and I didn't stop. I was relentless. The next morning, she couldn't even get out of bed. And I... I felt nothing but emptiness. I had shattered her, and yet, all I felt was a hollow victory.

Now, sitting here in my office, the weight of what I've done crashes over me like a tidal wave. I don't feel powerful anymore. I feel like the heartless monster everyone says I am.

The truth is... I am.