Rogue ✔

Chapter Twenty One : Breathe

"Things I would rather be thoughts in the back of my head.

But, I'm addicted to hurting."

We continued to drive at the breakneck speed that Phil paced. We had been driving in this car for at least 3 hours, with no other way of finding Paige than Phil's nose.

The blistering pain had only worsened. Now, my arms was being burned, like literally burned. Like someone was branding Paiges right arm, just below the elbow. That wasn't the worst part though, I think she's been whipped. Pure agony was felt all over my shoulderblades.  Definitely being whipped.

My pumping adrenaline through my blood. My wolf was desperately trying to heal me, but there weren't any wounds. Just pain. Burning, blistering, excruciating pain.

I tried to keep Phillip updated on Paige's wounds, but my mouth just refused to work anymore. It seemed like I couldn't even get two words out of my mouth before another jolt of pain hit me, making me groan in pain. I was constantly breathless.

Is this what it felt like to be hit by a goddamn semi?

There was a green sign up ahead. It stood proudly on the side of the road, stating it's name.

Welcome, it said. To the DarkMoon pack.

Paige POV

They tortured me for hours, my body was now broken. They beat me, branded me, and injected me with a lethal amount of silver.

There was too much if it in my blood for my wolf to help me. It was just like old times, silver coursing through me, my wolf making a sudden disappearance, me trying to survive against all odds.

I don't think I can beat this one though. I was too tired. Too okay with dying.

It wa was too much.  I really wanted to die. 

The huge brutes from before had put me back in the freezing cell. This time, they skipped the silver handcuffs. They just put a thick silver collar around my neck, tightening it so that I could barely breath.

I could feel the silver digging into my flesh, making it burn. I began to whimper. The collar had already burned through two layers of skin.

A steady stream of tears were flowing down my face, falling onto the sensitive skin of my neck. The salty tears made the the skin there sting.

I gently cried as my head laid on the floor. The tight collar had made my breaths sound more like gasps and coughs, rather than breathing. My head began to swoon as my lungs aren't getting enough oxygen. They tightened it just enough for it to restrict a decent flow, but loose enough not to kill me.

Which meant that they wanted me alive. For now.

I was fighting to remain conscious, but a mixture of the pain and blood loss made it and impossible fight. I held on for a few more minutes before letting the darkness take over. 

-2 hours later-

I was awake, something I didn't think would ever happen again. The tight collar was still choking me, just as before.

Something was different though. Something strange. The pain was still there, I knew that much. The lash marks on my back screamed as I tried to sit up.

The steady flow of blood coming from my thigh had decreased. The loss of blood had me feeling dizzy and delirious. I could barely keep my head up. The edges if my vision began to swirl. 

I suddenly found it harder and harder to breath as the seconds flew by. It became a real struggle just to do the simple act of filling my lungs with oxygen. 

My eyes fell closed, but I did not slumber. I was awake, but in horrible pain. I hadn't yet seen the extent of my injuries yet, but I knew they were horrible and would no doubt be leaving horrid scars.

You know how in movies, when the main character is about to die, he talks about his/her life flashing before there lives. I think I'm experiencing some of that same phenomenon right now.

I saw me, as a little girl. Holding my mother's hand as she read me a story. I saw my brothers and I play fighting by the creek. I saw my father carrying me like I was made of feathers.

I saw my whole family, smiling at me as we sat at the dinner table. We were happy.

After that came the darker parts of my story.

I saw entire family being ripped to shreds by black knights. I saw myself being thrown into the back of a car, crying in grief. I saw me being towed off to prison. I saw me being beaten by guards at each prison I went to.

I saw the mysterious man that came to tell me that I was to be transported to the most heavily guarded prison in the world.

I saw my petty fight with Clarissa, and my time in the Isolation room.

I saw escaping for the last time. I saw meeting my mate in a public bathroom. I saw him say my name fir the first time. Damain, my strong willed, dedicated mate. I saw us... meeting for the first time, us locking eyes and realizing that neither of us would ever be the same. I saw us kiss for the first time... and the last. I saw him walk out the door, alone.

I watched my torture from a third persons view, floating from above.  I watched as I screamed and cried.

I watched myself die in this very room. Curled up in a ball in the corner, clinging onto life with frozen fingers. The life flickering in my eyes, then going cold. I saw it all... and I was scared.

If there was one thing that truly made passing okay, it was this:

At least I died free.

The world had been trying to hold me down for years. Whether it be throwing me behind bars or ripping my family from me. At least I could die knowing what I know now, that I could.

Paige Annabell Carter. The girl who defied the odds. The one that got away.

Seemed like a good legacy as any.