Silver Claws

29. Deadly is a woman's wrath

My failures grow and fester like an infection left untreated, ignored for the sake of moving forward. A mantra of the wild that usually kept one alive, now it would be my cause of destruction.

Did I care about the pack enough to stay beside this male at all times? Where it would be a constant reminder of how wrong, how evil I was born? Could I move forward with him, with the rot inside?

He looks too pale, too vulnerable. A deer with a broken leg, lying on the ground waiting for death to come and wipe the pain away. He was too doe eyed, too gentle. I could never let this happen again, especially with his life tied to mine. I needed to think this way, he was a means of my own survival, nothing more.

That is all we really are. Two strangers with a life connection, forced to stay together against our will. We could never be anything greater. I stay, because I can't leave. I'm trapped to this pack, and if I'm going to stay confined to it then I will make it a kingdom. It's all I can give him.

He's starting to drift off, his dreams are stabs in my chest. He wants a mate so badly. The bond, his pack to look at the Alpha pair's example of total adoration. But I am this unlovable thing, the darkness that lives inside of me cannot be overcome by mere affection.

I can never give him the love he desires, so I will give him an empire.

The first order of business will be the death of those rogues, Darius in particular. His blood will paint my hands, retribution for the injury of my Alpha.

Then I will give Logan what those other Alphas so fear. One by one I will hand over their packs to Logan on a silver platter. His heart is so pure that he cannot take lives... so I will do it for him. And I at his side... the power would be enthralling.

What about the Shifters?

They could be a problem, but they have been underground for several centuries. Would they truly surface at a wolf revolution? Maybe if I am the one leading it, but even none of them can stand against me. The Cobra would come for my throat, but we would both die in that fight. A few may even put aside the feud to stand behind me as their queen. If they still think me their champion.

No matter what, to the wolves, to the shifters I am still the means to an end. A single domain, and I decide who will rule.

Logan stirs without waking, lines crease between his eyebrows, lips push together. He will be hungry soon. I leave to prep him some food. Nothing very skilled, grilled beef and potatoes that were in the fridge to be heated.

The claw mark's raking my side smart, I couldn't let any of them close enough to treat it. I barely cleaned and dressed it, the bandages haphazardly placed on skin still dirty, I've not even left him to clean the blood from my hair. I could hardly stand Logans treatment, my claws and fangs in the face of the terrified doctor. Logan whimpered once at his leg being lifted, the doctor kept his life only because Adrean began to cry when my nails started to dig into that age sagged neck.

By the time I am done he is opening his eyes. I get him more water, which he drinks so quickly the bottle crackles and loses shape in his hand. He drops it carelessly to the floor, it irritates me. I think this wolf has never wanted for anything, never had to save anything for further use.

"I take the nurse comment back, especially if you are going to feed me now." He smiles crookedly, his eyes flaming brightly.

My cheeks redden. "I will not feed you." Such a thing is intimate to my kind, feeding from a partner's hand. Kinships are built over food, sweat, and blood. When those things are shared bonds are made deeper, something these wolves have forgotten in their humanity.