The Pack House

Charlie's POV

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Comment & Vote!

Takes place following the chapter 'Raven'

"I've missed you Charlie."

I was kneeling by the door. Memories of being in the same position were burned into my mind as I stared helplessly down at my hand. He had broken at least two fingers. The pain was troublesome to cope with but knowing his devious intent was equally horrifying. He had redecorated some. The cabin was still far nicer than the one the omegas shared, but paled compared to the Pack House. The fire was roaring in the fireplace and the warmth was nice.

The clothes lent to me were now also my eyes and muddy so I was resisting the urge to inch toward the fire. "I'm talking to you."

He was behind the bar in the kitchen, pouring something into a glass. Probably alcohol. It just made him meaner. "No." My voice was dripping in my pain but I hung on regardless.

Raven was silent for a long while before he let out a bark of laughter. "Always so honest Charlie--even to your superiors."

"You're a monster."

"That's what my Alpha told me," he mused. "Before I ripped out his throat. So I'll ask again, did you miss me?"

The threat was playful but plain. And I knew better than to doubt to him. I remembered him once saying if he felt my teeth while I was blowing him, he'd rip out my molars. I could still taste the cold metal of the pliers and hot rusty taste of my own blood. My tongue briefly explored the empty pockets before I spoke, voice low with shame and submission. "Yes."

"There's a good boy." His footsteps came closer and I cringed despite myself. "I'm not going to beat you Charlie--unless you deserve it. You were stolen from me, you didn't run away. That doesn't warrant a punishment."

His armchair squeaked as he sat in front of the fire. "It's nice and warm over here Charlie--come join me. You must be cold."

Why was he acting like this? Where the brutality? Why wasn't he breaking my other fingers or fucking me in some humiliating way? It was unnerving. I inched a bit closer to the fire however, drawn by the crackling warmth. "So many people have used your body." He said suddenly. "How you still find value in yourself is beyond me. But interesting."

As if I needed him to remind me that existence was based solely on being used. I just tried to tune him out and absorb as much warmth as possible. It was so cold outside already... Once Winter hit, it'd be even worse. "That's why I'm not letting you go," he stated. "You're too fun as a toy to let you go to waste."

"Please," I whispered at the renewed sense of hopelessness. Seeing Mason ten his back in me was all the confirmation I needed. Friendship was for the weak. I knew it, yet I broke my own rule and consequently got myself even more hurt.

"You ought to be thanking me," replied Raven, black eyes turning on me. "My original plan was to kill you so no one else could have you. But when you somehow got Marc to drag his pathetic ass over and try and get you back, you earned yourself a bit of value."

I was horrified at how close to my death I had been. And so unknowingly in fact... I began to cough and Raven waited quietly until I was finished. "I suppose I should get you something for that cough... But last time you were here, you fought it off pretty well. I could always risk it and save myself the trouble if bartering with that creep in the clinic."

I began to cough again and stared at the blood on my hand. I hoped that the cough would get me this time. It was a million times better than Raven finally finishing me off. He got to his feet suddenly and I rolled over, opening a gap between us. He sneered down at me, stooping down, tangling his hand in my shirt as he lifted me up off the floor. "You're absolutely filthy," he announced, giving me a once-over. "And getting mud all over my house. That's not very nice, is it?"