FRAGILE

Chapter 6: A Parting Gift

When he awoke, groggy and disoriented, he found himself lying on something unfamiliar—soft, unlike the cold, hard floors he had grown accustomed to. A bed. A real bed. The sheets were smooth against his skin, the mattress beneath him giving way under his weight like a cloud. But even in his dazed state, Levi felt no comfort from it. The bed wasn't for him. It wasn't a kindness.

It was just another step in the process.

He stared up at the ceiling, the room blurry as his senses slowly returned to him. His body ached, the fresh piercings throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but the physical pain was secondary. It had become a constant, a part of his existence that he no longer questioned. What weighed on him more was the dread. The ever-present knowledge that whatever came next would be worse than the agony he had already endured.

A door creaked open, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Thomas entered, his presence as oppressive as always, filling the space with an air of dominance that made Levi instinctively shrink into himself. Thomas moved with the casual confidence of someone who knew he was in control, who relished in the power he held over Levi's broken body and mind.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Levi felt the heat of Thomas's body beside him, the subtle pressure of his presence making his skin crawl. His heart began to race, though he willed it to remain steady. Any show of fear or emotion was dangerous. He had been taught that well.

Thomas's hand reached out, his fingers grazing the side of Levi's neck, the same spot where the needle had pierced his skin earlier. He pressed down gently, as if feeling for the remnants of the injection, and Levi instinctively relaxed beneath the touch. Not because he wanted to—no, he hated Thomas's touch—but because it was ingrained in him to obey. The conditioning had worked too well.

"Relax, 2197," Thomas murmured, his voice low, almost soothing in its cruelty. "You're almost finished. Just a little longer."

The words carried no comfort, only the grim realization that something far worse was coming. Levi felt the tension in his body drain, his limbs going limp against the mattress, not because he willed it but because he had been trained to respond that way. To Thomas's touch. To Thomas's voice. His wolf, still locked away in the farthest corners of his mind, offered no resistance. It had been silenced, just as Levi had been.

Thomas stood up, walking across the room with deliberate, measured steps. Levi's eyes followed him, though his head remained still, too heavy from the lingering effects of the drug. When he saw what Thomas retrieved from the table, a cold wave of fear surged through him—sharp and visceral in a way he hadn't felt in years.

A branding iron.

The tip glowed red-hot, the number 2197 clearly etched into the metal, ready to be seared into his flesh. Levi's breath caught in his throat as he watched Thomas approach, the heat from the brand radiating through the room, a physical manifestation of his fate.

Thomas's smile widened as he drew closer, his cruel satisfaction evident in every calculated step. "This is your final mark," he said, his voice a sickening purr that sent a shiver down Levi's spine. "A reminder that you'll carry for the rest of your life. Consider it a parting gift, a reminder that you belong to me, 2197. You always will."

Levi's body tensed, the fear returning in full force, sharper now that the haze of the drug had faded. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he thought about resisting—about trying to fight back. But he knew better. Resistance only brought more pain.

He didn't have time to process the horror of what was happening before the brand touched his skin.

The pain was immediate and overwhelming, a searing, unbearable burn that ripped through his chest like fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, acrid and nauseating, and Levi screamed—an animalistic, guttural sound that tore from his throat without warning. His body convulsed under the excruciating heat, every nerve in his body alive with agony.

But the brand wasn't the only thing that made him scream.

Thomas's weight was on him, pressing him down into the mattress, his hands rough and demanding as he forced himself into Levi's broken body. The combination of pain from the branding and the violation was too much. It was unbearable, the kind of torment that shattered the mind, leaving nothing but raw, desperate agony in its wake.

Levi thought he might die in that moment. His body was too weak, too broken to survive the torment that was being inflicted on him. The heat of the brand and the sickening violation seemed to blend into one endless cycle of suffering, an inescapable spiral of torment.

And then, through the haze of pain, he heard it. A crash.

The weight of Thomas was suddenly lifted off of him, and a deep, feral snarl echoed through the room. Levi's vision swam, the pain making it impossible to focus, but he could sense it. There was another presence in the room now—dominant, powerful, radiating fury.

An Alpha.

Of all the beings who could have interrupted, it had to be an Alpha. Panic surged within Levi, his instincts screaming at him to run, to hide, but his body was too weak to move. He lay there, trembling and broken, his chest still burning with the fresh brand, his skin slick with sweat and blood.

What would the Alpha do to him? Would he be punished for being weak? For allowing this to happen?

He heard the Alpha's heavy footsteps approaching, each one slow and deliberate, filled with purpose. Levi's heart raced as he lay motionless, his breath shallow and quick, his mind spinning in a thousand directions. He couldn't see the Alpha's face, but he could feel the raw power emanating from him, a force unlike anything Levi had encountered before.

He couldn't move. He was too broken. Too weak.

Just as the darkness began to pull him under, as unconsciousness crept in to offer him temporary relief, Levi allowed himself a single, fleeting hope.

Maybe the Alpha had come to kill him.

Maybe, finally, he would be free.