Lone Werewolf

Italian

It turned out that peace could only last so long. Soon my dreams contorted into cruel nightmares - fleeting and confusing, withholding deformed memories, the terror all too real.

The laugh echoed mirthlessly throughout the room, tensing my body ramrod straight with fright.

I was cowering in the corner, eyes tracking the silhouette slowly creeping toward me. I knew who it was instantly, the Alpha. He cracked his knuckles loudly, broad shoulders flexing as his arms moved.

"Runt," he snarled, grabbing me by the collar and punching me with painful accuracy in the abdomen, forcing me to my knees. My stomach roiled at the sudden jolt of unbearable pain, threatening to make me retch.

Panic seized me at the thought.

"I heard you found your mate." He growled, grabbing me forcefully by the chin, extended claws digging into my skin painfully.

He laughed.

"Do you really think he'll accept you? Do you think he's going to love you?" His cruel sneer sent a shock of pain into my heart.

Almost a physical ache.

I knew he hated to see my tears, but they came flooding down my cheeks anyway.

"Awe, is she crying?" He cooed, tightening his grip so that a trickle of blood dribbled down my chin. "So pathetic! Of course no-one wants a cry baby like you."

He leant down close so that his face was inches away. I cowered, whimpering in fright, which only caused him to smile sadistically.

"You're not even legitimate, you're just a bastard child. You shouldn't have been born. Even your own mother doesn't want you, even she knows you're a mistake."

Fear pulled me under so that all I could do was stare and hope he wouldn't beat me too harshly.

He stood back, fumbling with his belt buckle. I raised my arms above my head, anticipating they lash of the belt. I guess hope doesn't work.

"I don't like what isn't mine!" He hissed before the belt whipped down against my back, tearing through my thin, fifth hand shirt to smack against my skin.

He was relentless as he thrashed, tearing my skin off my back. Big fat droplets of blood trickled down my spine, my shirt was drenched with red, sticky blood. My eyes were leaking tears, salty water dribbling into my mouth as I screamed in pain.

"Stop!" I cried, begging the Alpha to relieve the agony. He just hit harder, yelling curse words at me.

He wouldn't stop. I couldn't take the pain anymore. My breaths were short and laboured, fighting against the nausea in my stomach. I was surrounded by the scent of my own blood, with no escape from the pain.

No escape. No relief.

I gasped audibly, shooting up into a sitting position. A heavy weight held me down and I kicked it off wildly tossing the stifling blanket away.

My breaths were still uncontrollable, the nightmare leaking into reality, but even as I fought for breath I noticed I wasn't alone in the room. I gasped, rasping for breath as I launched off of the comfy couch, backing up and away from the presence until my legs hit the frame of the bed and I was cornered. I was shaking badly, mind scattered from the sudden awakening, body aching and tired.

"I am not going to hurt you," the man, my mate, said - I realised once my haze had lifted and my breaths were somewhat less ragged. His voice was calm and collected, simply continuing to read in a chair by the TV, lit by the soft glow of a lamplight. He turned the page of his book, still not looking up. It comforted me, in an odd, forbidden way as he let me soak up the atmosphere and his presence.