𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐓 𝐔 𝐑 𝐄 𝐃. / ww ff.

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾. / edited.

— 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞.

I was thrown onto a bed, my frail back met harshly with the course mattress. A silent groan slipped past my lips, but I muffled it, willing myself to be a quiet shell lest I was hit.

A body climbed over mine and they started to tame their lust by taking me once again.

I looked up at the blue ceiling. Dissociating was the easiest way to forget my present trauma.
Gazing at the chipped ceiling, I wished that I was flying away from this place.

Did I ever tell you about the time I fell pregnant? No one knew who the Father was, but my mate just claimed it was his. My mate was ecstatic but the pain didn't stop. She was born cold, in the season when sunflowers bloomed. Born cold, and born dead, due to how unhealthy I was.

I held her still, little body in my arms and named her Mary, after my mother.

Snapping back to the cruel reality by a particularly hard thrust, my physical body rocked back and forth yet my mind was elsewhere. My mind was in the clouds, away from reality.

The torturer got off of me and spat at me, a familiar motif from my abusers, and then left. Leaving me crumpled on a stained mattress, allowing the gravity of what I was to sink in. A used whore.

I silently hauled myself up and limped to sit under the window frame on the ground. I used to cry after this happened. The first time my mate would stay with me and berate me as I wept, and then slowly I was passed around and left, crying silently by myself until the tears just dried up.

I was a walking ghost.

I huffed out a cracked sigh, gazing outside.

A long time ago, in a life before this, one asked me whether I liked the ocean, or the beach, or a good summers day, like most people did. I didn't. I liked the sky. I liked when it rains. The sky, being so expansive, reminded me of a freedom I had one lost. And the rain, just a mocking mirror of the tears I have shed.

.
.

A couple hours passed me by in a swirl and flurry of what seemed like minutes, the illusion only broken when the hinges of the door of my room swung open.

He came inside quietly; he did not have to say a lot to make his presence well known. And it always was. A commanding aura that even the most hardened wolves acknowledged. It was a waste that he used it on me, for I would have cracked under any pressure, intimidation from an insecure wolf be damned.

I did not have to turn my gaze to know it was him. The mate bond, although weakened by abuse and love lost, was still there. I felt my heart pang and then fall still, my features were cold, like a porcelain doll.

His black hair fell down either side of his face in an undercut and his glacier-blue eyes scanned the room until he saw me.

Considering he was an Alpha, he was broad shouldered and tall, a living, breathing masculine portrait from a priceless renaissance painting.

I looked at him blankly as always. It felt like every other day. He'd either come here to taunt me, take his anger out on me, or have his way with me. I doubt it'd be the latter, as he made his growing contempt clear for me everyday.

Raising my eyes fully, I peered more closely at his face, and noticed that it held the emotion of accomplishment.

"Ah, my little one. How are we today, hm?" He hummed patronisingly, a sadistic quality to his voice as he strutted over to me and hoisted me up by my hair. Of course, he didn't actually care how I was, he just did it, he always did, to keep up the illusion. Or to rub in my face the hopelessness of my situation?

Thoughts cast aside, I cringed in pain, my hands flying to grip at his own, before the uselessness of my defiance dawned on me, and my features schooled neutrally, my body going limp.

His name was Tobias Atwood.

When I'm forced to marry him, I'll inherit his name, and carry a legacy of abuse.

I didn't answer. I just let him stare me down, his grip constricting on my scalp.

"Oh? Don't want to answer? Very well. You've become so despondent, my dear one. I wonder whether this will get an answer out of you," He spitefully sneered as he threw me over to the bedside table, making me crash into it slightly.

No power was needed behind the throw, his superior genes easily casting my frail body aside. I sucked in a faint breath of pain, the edge of the table catching my tummy where the Beta had violated me.

Tobias came away from the window, pacing in front of me. There was something coming, I could feel it, I could feel the accomplishment, spite and gleeful horror rolling off of him. I stared up at him, biting the inside of my lip as my finger nails scratched into the bedside table to keep me upright. Please, let me hold on, whatever this is, just let me hold on.

My plea wasn't enough.

"I killed your mother."

#

Edited 2021/22.