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 ○
Everything felt like a wicked routine for everyone.
It's been two weeks since Killian's capture, and every other day, I was called up by Beta Reed to tend to his injuries and give him the same shot made to lessen his strength.
Alpha Azeil had fully succumbed to the sadistic impulse of his wild. He would make use of a silver sheath to carve various lines on Killian's skin, adding more to the scars that already decorated the entirety of him.
I could remember seeing Killian one night bearing long, bleeding lines that ran along his arms, cheek, and chest. And the sight alone brought me an inward hurricane of rage and remorse, my hands trembling and my jaw set tight while I did my best to clean him up, knowing full well that there were more to come.
Not only was Killian forced to carry the physical damage of the Alpha's wrath, but he was also mentally deprived of his own worth. Azeil had incessantly whipped him with harsh words that burrowed deep into his core.
Revolting.
Born wrong.
Forsaken by the Moon.
They were words that Killian found hard to accept yet still allowed to burn his morale for the truth he thought they held. He had started to believe that there was no hope for him to find a place in the world.
Alpha Azeil had made it his goal to break every aspect of Killian; to annihilate the impending threat of the beast that could steal his title. It had grown to become a chore for the Alpha, to inflict the worst pain on Killian as much as possible, and it was my job to clean up the damage of his actions.
I was forced to support the onslaught of a sadistic prick.
But despite all of it, every time I walked through the steel doors of Killian's heavily secluded cell, he still made an effort to welcome me with a smile that began to wither every single day. I constantly reminded him about my weak promise, and he would give me the same response that never held any ounce of doubt for my words.
"I know."
I leaned back on my chair and released a sigh as I stared at my empty desk, fingers tapping along the surface as I let my conscience consume me.
It was then the sight of the Healer picking flowers a few meters ahead of the infirmary broke me from my reverie. She was wearing various necklaces and bracelets that added color to her long white dress as her light blond hair was braided and swept to the side of her neck.
I tucked my hands inside the pockets of my coat as my eyes took in the sight of the familiar woman ahead of me, and I nearly lost my breath when she had looked up to regard me from afar.
