Brought to his knees before the kingdom after ten years of hiding, Kyros believed that he would be sentenced to death for the murder of his pack. His sentence would mean the end of it all - his torment, his abuse, his turmoil.
But his destiny change...
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Shadows of the approaching night embraced the lands in a dark blanket. Rain fell from their solemn throne above, pattering on the ground of the earth. A cloudy mist, brought on from the nearest ocean encased the distant land in a mysterious fog. A chill as frigid as death touched the skin of Kyros, blowing softly on him.
Teasing him with the taste of death yet fleeing when he approached it.
He hadn't slept in nearly two days, and the lack of food, sleep, and fluids he needed to sustain his body with energy was causing his mind and body to wither away. Being exposed to his fears with nowhere to hide and no way to calm himself tore his mind to shreds. Every wall he thought he had built into a strong fortress was easily torn down by his fears and by the extreme mental abuse he had faced.
The strong place he thought he could reside in and find peace in was crumbled into nothing. He was nothing.
He was forced to relive every murder he had committed while his soul was trapped behind his wolf's mind.
He was more than defeated.
He was void. Empty. Broken. Despondent. Struck down and destroyed.
"Kyros." A gentle voice spoke to him.
He didn't move.
He felt nothing.
Even when the scent of his mate filled the air, even when her feet came into his view, he didn't move. He lay there with a blank, empty look in his eyes.
Asheria fell down before him, not caring that her robes and royal clothes were dirtied by the mud and blood around her.
She pulled him onto his back and cradled his bruised, swollen head in her lap, and turned his eyes upwards.
She was startled to find nothing in his eyes. They were open but held no expression. His eyes resembled a corpse's - dead, lifeless. Not an ounce of light, nothing to tell her that a soul still resided there. That life still resided there.
And even though his eyes were looking right into her own, it didn't seem like it. They seemed to be open but not seeing. Open but staring off into the distance. They didn't seem to be focused on anything.
"Kyros." She whispered, sweeping his soiled, wet hair from his face. She ran her fingers through his oily, grimy hair, but she didn't care.
She could only stare at the mental state he was in.
She couldn't see the condition his body was in due to the fact that he was covered in mud, but she also knew that his mental state was quite possibly worse than his physical one.
Hollow and empty his eyes were, and it was a haunting, scary sight for Asheria. Her long hair fell down the sides of her face and tumbled onto his neck. His breaths were slow, his chest barely moving.
