Epsilon [Werewolf]

Chapter 65

"Zion?" I dared to whisper. 

Another groan. The tightness in my chest loosened just a tad, and I tried again. "Zion?"

Another groan, but this time I could make out a word -- "Yes."

I choked on a sob, even as no tears met my eyes. Relief flooded through me. Zion was alive. Zion... was alive!

"Zion," I sobbed, bowing my head. Silence ensued for a few moments.

Then, a weak chuckle sounded, its sound like music to my ears. "I didn't think strong, cold Kyra would ever cry over a morsel such as me."

"Shut up!" I sobbed through tears. "You're such an idiot for what you did! You could have died!"

I cried more, but something about it felt so good. It felt good to be... feeling again, even if it would only be for a short time. Even if it was crying. 

I could practically picture his weak grin. "As I said, Kyra, I don't die so easily."

I laughed through a sob. I couldn't believe how lucky I was, how lucky it was for Zion to still be here, after everything. How lucky I was to have such a great friend, who'd spare me even just a sliver of my misery by sacrificing himself. 

"Thank you," I said quietly, and I know he knew what I meant. The girl. I couldn't even recall if I had bitten her, but the fact she got away gave me comfort. Better than her being trapped under Azriel's hand. 

A loud screech sounded down the hall, the sound of stone of steel. My defences were up immediately, but it wasn't just the noise that had set me on edge. The door was never this loud, it was always opened slowly. This sounded rushed and frantic, as if...

An erratic rhythm of footsteps sounded the hall, as though whoever approached was stumbling. Instinctively, I backed away from my bars, sinking into the shadows. Something in my gut told me something wasn't right, and I had the feeling Alia and Zion felt the same way, too, for their figures retreated as well. 

Then his presence hit me, potent like the stench of a rotting corpse, forcing me to gag. It wasn't long before he stood outside my bars, gripping the metal with white knuckles as though to steady himself. 

I shivered under his scrutiny. His blue eyes were glossed over, dull like glass. His face was slightly slack, as though he was in a half-dreamy state. The lazy smile that crawled to his lips filled me with both terror and disgust, and I found myself backing further into my cell. 

"Kyra..." he slurred, the stench of alcohol mingling on his breath. He was drunk -- very, very drunk. 

I swallowed. And I was in no position to defend myself. 

"What do you want, Azriel?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral over my rising panic. I'd dealt with drunk people before... but drunk werewolves? I had no clue as to how this would play out. 

Azriel braced his shoulder on the bar, giving me another one of those half-grins. "I want you, my darling..."

A shudder. I swallowed, composing myself.

"I don't want you, Azriel," I said with as much assertion as I could muster. Instantly, his face changed, something close to hurt in his eyes. 

"Why won't you let me in, Kyra?" he whined, pulling on the bars. "You keep pushing me away, tormenting me... I can't take it!"

I gave him a shrug. However, my heart leapt to my throat as the bars were thrown open, leaving no barriers between us. I gasped as he rushed up to me with werewolf speed, and before I knew it my back was to the wall. He braced his hand above me, face mere inches from mine. A warning snarl sounded from Zion, but I didn't hear it, not over the roaring in my ears. If he wanted, Azriel could have his way with me -- violate me in front of my friends, use me and throw me away like I was a doll. And there was nothing I could do about it. 

The thought forced tears to my eyes. His eyes became somewhat sad as he spied my tears.

"Don't cry, my dear," he slurred, raising a hand to my cheek. I flinched at contact of his calloused fingers along my skin. 

"Please," I whispered. I hated begging, but I knew I had to. It wasn't truly Azriel behind those eyes, though I'd never truly known the man to begin with. "Please, don't hurt me..."

Azriel's drunken eyes clouded with confusion. "I'd never hurt you, baby." His hand moved to my chin, tilting it up. "Say you love me," he demanded, eyes desperate. "Please, Kyra, tell me you love me. Tell me you'd die for me. Tell me you don't hate me -- tell me how you really feel."

I stared into those pleading eyes, long and hard. 

Tell me you love me. 

"No," I said quietly. Something about those words, the way he said them... it lit a fire under my skin, and suddenly my fear was gone. "I hate you. I really, really fucking hate you, Azriel. If I had it my way, you'd be dead on the ground with your blood on the stones. Why don't you get it?"

His face paled. For a moment I panicked, but then he pushed away from the wall, storming to the foot of my cell. I thought that was the end of it before he turned to look me dead in the eyes, impending doom consuming me whole. 

A loud boom sounded, followed by a bright white flash as I was thrown back into the wall, my skull cracking against the stone. 

I blinked, trying to remain conscious as shock rattled through me. Zion was yelling -- screaming -- but Azriel didn't move. I could hear Alia calling my name, but the darkness was starting to pull me away. The last thing I could feel was the lingering stain of hot breath on my face as I was pulled under.