He is without a pack,
He is without a mate,
And he is without a wolf,
He is the sanctuary of brutality, a slaughter that waits for its turn.
He is Killian, the beast built with strength, power, and chaos that yearns for a reign, not of an Alpha, but...
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○ Valerie Press ○
Killian.
It was with great tenacity to his voice when he spoke his name, and I had come to notice that that was the only thing that he was sure about himself.
The realization brought a slight pressure to my chest, my gaze softening on the male laying before me.
Killian's attention dropped to the shackles, and I expected him to show his aggression, to act out on his resistance, but he didn't make any attempts to break free from the thick restraints that bound him down to the bed.
Although he was under the influence of the drug meant to put him down, he could easily break the shackles, but he didn't even make an effort to fight it.
He just observed them with unseeing eyes as he let his raging thoughts consume the entirety of him.
"Why am I here?" He asked me momentarily. He was lost and frustrated while he looked up at me, and I could clearly see the constant glow of his right blue eye and how it easily saw through me.
Waiting. Scrutinizing. Warning.
It was all directed at me.
The beast's eye proudly shone, the glint of it easy to catch as it made its intentions known.
I was the prey.
I ignored his gaze and chose to focus on his shaved head instead. I ran a tongue over my dry lips and shoved my cold, numb hands into the pockets of my coat.
"I don't... exactly know what happened to you, but you crossed my pack's border by the lake. You took a lot of damages, including the bullets in your chest."
"Which way did I come from?"
"North."
Killian's perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed before looking at the window in front of him.
So far, the answers to his questions only brought him more headache and confusion.
The strong cut of his jaw locked tight as he silenced himself once again, and the war going through his head could be seen right through his sharp features.
He was thoroughly lost.
"Killian, I-"
A low, thunderous growl escaped his throat, the sound of it so feral and demanding that it sent a wave of fear to wash over my body, causing me to take an immediate step back for the sake of keeping my throat intact.
Killian shut his eyes tight and shook his head, his hands forming into tight fists as he fought against his wild.
"I'm sorry, it's not what you think," Killian bit out, as if speaking brought him a lot of pain. "I won't change."
