My King

Chapter 14 - Man's revenge.

Chapter 14 - Man's revenge.

Marcys Savage

The anger burns my veins from the inside, and wash over me like a bucket of boiling hot water. The anger burns my skin, the surface turned to ashes within seconds. The skin raw and stinging.

My wolf is knocking his head against the barrier, fighting fiercely to be let out from the shackles imprisoning him, my resistance falling short.

His own anger blend with mine, like intwined hands keeping it all from falling apart. My breathing is short and hissing, my throat closing up, the pain ripping through every inch of me. My nails turn into claws, and I rip the flesh inside my palm, the fist tight, as the blood drips down to paint the floor, the red substance drawn to it like a magnet. My whole body is shaking violently, and my teeth grit together painfully.

What is happening to me?

I pull my deeply embedded claws out of the fresh holes on my palm and dig them into my arms. The dragging of my claws shreds the skin from my shoulders to my wrists, the blood flowing like a river. The abuse let my lack of control shine through, and embarrassment is embedded deep in my soul.

I let the drag continue in the same pattern, in the fresh wounds till all the flesh is ripped from my arms, nothing left but the bruised bone. As the pain register and spread throughout my body, I finally feel like I can breathe again. The puffs of air leave my lungs heavily and fast, my heart pounding to keep up. I gulp down all the air within reach, selfish to keep it all to myself. A burn in my lungs at the intrusion.

I regain a short amount of control, and let my claws retreat themselves from my shredded skin, my arms given a needed break. The anger and pain start up again, like a lit wild bonfire, and I release one limp only to attach myself to another. My claws are buried into the sides of my head, the fall to my knees harsh on the wooden floor. The pain pure agony at this point.

The blood run like a fucking river, and I put more pressure on my flesh wounds, the blood dripping faster and faster, the substance thick and heavy. The dizziness hit me like a train wreck, the blood loss too great and devastating for my survival. The red fluid stain the beautiful wood, and I'm forced to focus on every drop of the wet liquid. My balance is lost to the atmosphere, and I fall forward to connect with the ground like a dead drum. My head hitting the ground last, a heaviness put on my eyelids.

The blood soak my clothes and hair, the stickiness making sure to leave no spot untouched. It seeps into every corner and drench every piece of fabric. My ears start ringing, a pounding forming to devastate me even further. My survival hanging in a thin string. I stare upon the painted floor, finding beauty in the swirling colors. My breathing short making me pant for air like a female in heat.

My vision gets more and more blurry as the seconds tick by too slow for my torture. I blink repeatedly, hoping to get some clearer vision, but it only gets blurrier. My eyelids heavy, ready to descent any minute, just waiting for permission to close and give in to temptation. A lone tear falls from my eye, as my eyelids falls heavily, and I watch as the teardrop get soaked into the blood, the transparent color taking on a red hue.

That's the last thing I see, before my world turns black.

-

The hushed voices are all around me, their noise intwined in a battle.

Who is loudest? That's the question at hand. They speak all at once, voicing each other out to be heard first.

Who is loudest?

The machines are beeping, but it's hushed out by the loud noise the people put upon themselves to create. I try to move, I try to open my eyes, but there are restrains put on me that I can't see or reach. The battle for control lost and whispering defeat.

I feel a weight on my left hand, a soft touch of a thumb swiping across my palm in a slow comforting motion. I hear footsteps, the volume getting lower and lower, just before a door fall closed. A gush of air hit me along with a musty smell. The need to gag is strong, but not a possibility.

Someone is definitely breathing on me. I can faintly smell the scent of sewer whenever the air hit me. My nose wrinkle on its own at the vile odor consuming my sense of smell.

Who the hell has such a vile breath - The toothbrush is invented for a reason!

I hear a familiar voice in the darkness, the sound too far away, the words being spoken isn't within earshot. The voice hushed but still so familiar. The rough edge deep and manly. I assume the man's identity to be my mate's. The confusion I'm faced with comes from the vile smell. Luka' breath usual carries a peppermint scent, the soft undertone like freshly cut grass. The smell coming from him now isn't anything I've smelt before. The smell so strong, I feel like I can taste it on the tip of my tongue. He should really put that toothbrush of his to use, and that can only be done too fast.

I stop fighting against my mind, and let the silence and darkness fall upon me like a thick warm blanket. The cocooning feeling relaxing and nice, the contrary of what I felt before the blackness took over every inch of my body and subconscious. The feeling of arms wrapped tightly around my form is comforting, and I never want the feeling to end.

The last thing I remember before the excruciating pain, is what I said to Luka.

It's beating because you were selfish and put yourself before me!

I hear the sentence over and over like an echo, the record broken into a spin of hatred and regret. The sentence was harsh and uncalled for, after all, my mate has done almost everything to make me feel as homely as I possible could under the circumstances. The regret hit like a plane crash falling from the sky to collide with the ground. The edge on fire and ready to pay the price of its words.

He deserves better than that.

I know I can be difficult, god knows, I'm not the easiest mate he could receive, but he never let that stop him from loving and accepting me wholeheartedly. There wasn't any kind of resistance from his side. The temptation was mine to battle, and Luka stood beside me through it all. He defied his parents for me, he went to battle for me, and he loved me - Not despite of my flaws, but because of my flaws.

He was always there lurking in the darkness, waiting for me to accept his presence. If I give in, and give myself to him, will he keep loving me. Will he see through me and know what I've done. What I wish to bury, but still doesn't regret. I'm nowhere near a saint, an angle, whatever you want to call it. I killed people in cold blood, men and woman as well as children. I have ruined lives and destroyed families, without even an ounce of remorse. I didn't care about their lives or their emotions - I didn't care about anything.

Even though they had done nothing to me, I enjoyed killing them. Many of them were innocent souls who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn't deserve any of it, and even if I could do it all over, I wouldn't change a thing. It's who I am - It's what I am.

Luka isn't like me. He is what you would call a decent guy. If he knew all of these things, would he still look at me the same. Would he be able to see past the monster and see the man I wish I could become. 

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❝⃤ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ - 𝑴𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈!❞⃤

ⅹℴⅹℴ 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝔂

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