His Luna, Their Alpha

22. Mute

I stared down at the sandwich I had begun making. It sat lonely on the counter as my hands blindly ran over the ingredients putting them together with senseless precision.

They say that once someone loses one of their senses, all of the others become heightened. Though speech may not be one of the five senses in a technical way, I felt as if I had lost a piece of myself once I came to the realization that my voice wasn't coming back for a while. The doctors said that I had been shocked into silence and that something in my brain was impairing my speech. Though all of my organs worked properly, I wasn't able to force myself to utter a sound.

Still, my lack of speech had seemed to allow my hearing and sight to enhance themselves in ways I had never experienced before. I think that was just due to my screwed psyche as well. It was so frustrating.

People tiptoed around me, as if the slightest movement of the wind could break me and force me into oblivion. My dad had toned down his harsh words, Violet gave me a large berth, and Grace tried to help me in any way possible but even so. Her voice was too soft, movements to gentle. Not to mention the rest of the pack members looked at me like a scared kitten. Like a porcelain doll that had just been dropped to the floor and a long crack now ran down her perfect porcelain skin. Though I wasn't broken completely... my voice was evidence of the slight cracks that had appeared in my hard exterior shell.

The only people who hadn't treated me as if I could shatter were Josh, Olly, Logan and Erik. Maybe it was the fact that they knew I was stronger than this. Or maybe it was because they were men and treating me like a subordinate would make them feel and appear weak. I didn't mind really. Being with any of them was a welcome relief to the constant pain I was feeling in my mind.

I could communicate a bit. A simple pencil and paper were enough for me to express simple wants and desires, along with anything I really needed. I could lie through the pencil, and tell people I was okay, when all I wanted to do was scream. I could tell the truth too. Still, intimate conversations and anything that involved real, genuine feelings was too much and within seconds, I would walk away, throwing the pencil behind me.

This had really gotten to Erik and he hated that I couldn't, or maybe wouldn't tell him things. The first night back, he had brought me some food after I showered but I didn't eat. We only cuddled on the bed while Erik asked me 'yes' or 'no' questions.

"Where you raped?" No.

"Did that mutt feed you?" No.

"How long were you in there?" I don't know, and I shrugged my shoulders, looking up at him from beneath my lashes.

"Will you talk to me?" No.

"Why not?" I glared up at him before he reached up to run a finger over my face before letting one of my golden locks slip between his fingers. His fingers danced across my skin, ghosting over my lips before his hand drifted down to caress my throat, his pinky resting over the mark that graced my neck.

"Can you talk at all, Kassidy?" A slow nod. No. He let out a long sigh before pulling me closer to his chest. "Kass," he breathed out into my hair. "Can I keep asking you questions then? And you nodding?" Yes. "Okay, will you eat something?"

I raised my eyebrows ate him. Really? He chuckled at me before leaning across the bed and grabbing the tray he had brought in earlier and after forcing down the grilled cheese sandwich, I snuggled back into his chest. Within seconds, I had drifted to sleep in his arms, knowing I was safe and thankful not to be laying on a metal table in a dimly lit concrete room.

Now, I still stood in the kitchen staring at the plate that I had just dropped on the floor, shattering it in the same instant. Hoards of people rushed into the room, scared that I had passed out on the floor, I guess. Well, not really hoards, but the influx of bodies was overwhelming and there were only two that I wanted to see. Erik had held me through the night but I had yet to be around my betas long enough for them to come up with any witty comebacks or smart remarks. I missed them and I knew that they must be worried about me.