Unbonded

Part 1

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Harry stumbles, flinging a hand out to steady himself. Thankfully, he finds a solid trunk to grip onto. The bark is coarse under his palm and prickles his skin. Sucking in a lungful of air, the forest floor blurs beneath him and he blinks again and again, but it's no use. He needs to keep moving, he knows that, needs to reach the edge of this seemingly eternal wooded prison before dusk, before the creatures of the night wake from their slumber and descend upon him.

He tries to take another step, but he falters once more and he gives into the exhaustion that refuses to let him continue, slumping to the ground and backing up against the tree. Just a few minutes to rest and I'll forge on, he reassures himself. He tucks his knees up to his chest and lays his head on top, wrapping his arms around his shins as a small sob escapes his dry, chapped lips.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The phrase runs on a loop inside his muddled head. It just wasn't, is the thing. He had what most saw as a fortunate life; bonded to a revered alpha with a future that should have assured him security. And if not for one failing, one stupid, fucking failing of his traitorous body, he would've had that life.

To the pack, Vagrid was seen as a good alpha; strong and sure, respected, and a trusted advisor to their pack leader. But to Harry, he had always been someone to be feared; strict and harsh, dismissive of Harry's needs, and unforgiving of his limitations. One limitation in particular.

They had bonded a year ago in a typical ceremony presided over by the pack's bondmatcher. Even though Harry had known what to expect after hearing countless other omegas talk of these ceremonies with pride, it was still confronting. Laid out on the bonding altar, his chest pressed into the cold stone, exposed, his purity taken by Vagrid in front of the judging eyes of the pack council. He'd been told to prepare himself, and he'd tried as best as he could with the sap from the onipto tree, but it had still hurt.

Vagrid wasn't gentle with him that night. Nor any night after that.

After his alpha had claimed him, the others had surrounded him, holding him down and chanting as the branding ritual had been performed. As the pack's seal was burned into the skin of his lower back, Harry had grit his teeth and kept his cries internalised. This was his right of passage after all, and the moment he became a fully-fledged member of the pack, ready to stand beside his alpha.

Harry lets his tears fall freely at the memory of everything he's been forced to leave behind. Images of the other pack members, who had no choice but to stand by and watch helplessly as he was banished, flash behind his tightly squeezed eyelids. No longer able to live within the comfort and the safety of the pack, and the only home he's ever known.

That's all in the past though, and there's no going back.

Now, left to fend for himself in the wilds, his chances of survival are slim. The open wound where his pack branding had been cut out of his back hours earlier is still seeping into his tunic and the smell of his blood is sure to attract the beasts of the forest. He wonders how long he has left.

He lifts his head, scrubbing angrily at his cheeks, and he tries to gather himself. If he has any hope at all, he has to move, but he's weak, drained of his will to live by all that has transpired.

He has nothing; no possessions, no clothing aside from his thin tunic, no sandals on his blistered and scraped feet, no weapons to defend himself.

Maybe this night will be his last. Maybe the spirits will take pity on him and allow him a swift end. Maybe this is what he deserves.

Barren. Unbreedable. Broken. Useless.

Vagrid's words ring inside his head; pounding, vicious, cutting Harry to the core.