Titan (prequel to Octavius)

one | introductions

Here it is! 

WARNING: this is the PREQUEL to "Octavius". If you haven't read that yet, do so, and then come back to this one :) 

The whip hits my back again, the once feathery touch of leather slapping against the exposed skin, turning the elegant fabric into a daily torture.

"How many times," my father's voice rings out again. "have I told you not to enter my office when I am holding a meeting, Titan?"

"Many, I'm sorry, father. It won't happen again, I promise." I plead, tears running down my fifteen year old face. I listen to the sound of wrapping leather, and I sigh.

The torture is over, for now.


"Son," He places a hand on my bare shoulder, his strong alpha's grip applying more pain than reassurance. "I do this for your own good. Alpha's must have discipline. You cannot be a powerful alpha if you do not learn self-control. Do you understand me?"

I nod quickly, wiping at stray tears, pretending as if they were never there.

"Thank you, father." I stutter, exhaling the standard reply. The reply an omega gives the alpha.

"Go shower, and get yourself to bed. Tomorrow we have the pack meeting with the Moonrise pack, our neighbor. I expect you to look your best then. Sleep now." And the door slams behind him.

The cold shower water stings the fresh flashes, but pain is bearable when you're accustomed to the feel. Or at least, that's what I attempt to tell myself.

I dry myself off, the white towel growing pink from the continuously bleeding cuts. Blood is useless, something that flows too freely, and escapes too quickly. Our bodies might as well be filled with soil or plaster, or various arrays of leaves.

Bind wounds tight, so that you lessen the amount of blood leaving your body.

Mother's voice echoes in my mind, as my lanky fingers twist and pull the white bandage around my waist, holding myself together at the seams.

Sometimes I wonder what would happen, if the whip broke my spine, would each notch break like a line of dominoes? Or would it shatter as one, like a collapsing building?

I slip under the covers, the soft silk harsh against my skin.

And I let sleep pull me into the nightmares I know too well. 

The collar of my shirt is too tight, too irritating. I adjust it again, my lie loosening more and more each time. Leave it to Adeline to choose the most aggressive of fabrics. I look over the thousands of pack members in front of me, or rather, below me. I love sitting up on the pedestal, my simple chair feeling like a golden throne as I look down at my subjects.

"Fix your tie, dear." Adeline, my step mother, nags, swatting at the hand that wrestles with the noose-like tie around my neck.

"I'm trying." I grumble, trying to remember what my father taught me.

Left, then loop it around, then right.

Or was it right, then left?

Fuck.

"Let me, Titan." Her red-polished hands grasp the black tie, quickly redoing the fabric in a flamboyant and arrogant fashion. I wonder how many men she's had to redress before.