Mates of a Werewolf Hunter

Chapter 35 Wolf's Battle for Control

"Thanks, Xavier," my wolf expressed gratitude.

"Still, Zachary, Vortex. Just because I made him unconscious doesn't mean Xavier helped me," Zachary clarified, dragging Octavius out of my room. Before disappearing, he left me with a reassuring smile.

"Val, it's great to see you. I'll meet you once everything is over and in control," he promised before closing the door.

With Vortexzy relinquishing control, I sank onto the bed. "Thanks, Vor."

"It's fine. I just pity Jacque. He's always been protective of me. He just couldn't control his animal instincts," she reasoned.

"He's going to regret it when he comes back to his senses," I mused, contemplating the aftermath of this tumultuous encounter. The room settled into an uneasy calm, a temporary respite in the storm that had swept through my life.

I let the hot water cascade over me, attempting to wash away the lingering scent of him that clung to my skin like an unwelcome shadow. It made me cringe; his scent, though pleasing, felt like an intrusion. I wasn't his possession and having his essence on me felt fundamentally wrong. With a sigh, I turned over on my bed, feeling the weight of weakness and vulnerability.

Disgust and repugnance washed over me as I replayed his actions in my mind. I longed to reclaim my strength, independence, and courage. I wanted to embody vigilance, be valiant, and hold onto my valor. I was a robust individual, and my wolf even more so. Yet, in his presence, it felt as though our energy had been siphoned away.

I felt pathetic and poignant. Just because I was a female didn't mean I couldn't stand up for myself. Just because someone was born male didn't grant them mythical powers. Thoughts of him made me shiver, and I despised that vulnerability he had imposed on me. He had shattered me into fragments, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't piece myself back together. It felt impossible, paradoxical, and like an irreversible process.

What had I done to deserve this? Why me? Did I merit having him over anyone else? To endure rejection repeatedly, subjected to various forms of abuse and crying out in pain – did I deserve this punishment without reason?

Had I ever disrespected my family or looked down upon anyone? Was I a conceited and overbearing soul? Was I responsible for his mother's death? The cause of his actions and undoings? Did I secretly wish to be kidnapped and enslaved?

The questions echoed in my mind, a dissonant symphony of self-doubt, confusion, and the painful realization that sometimes, there are no answers to the torment we endure.

Was I stomping on my own foot, wishing for him to be my mate? What twisted gain could I possibly derive from this cruel dance orchestrated by fate? If only everything could fall into place neatly. Why couldn't I be the author of our lives, penning a tale without the complications that gnawed at my emotions?

If only Lucifer had a different lineage, if his father wasn't a werewolf – we wouldn't be entangled as mates. What if I had a mate who was wonderfully loving? I could have been the happiest woman alive, yet in the depths of my heart, I still yearned for him.

Did I love him? The question echoed, each beat of my heart drumming out the confusion that swirled within me. What if Alpha Zades had Gabriel as his first son? Their bond could have been tighter, and I would have been spared from this mess – nearly murdered, slapped, hurt, abused, defeated, almost raped, shot, and tethered to someone I could never love.

I pondered the unfairness of my predicament. Always on the run from inconveniences I hadn't chosen – the life of a werewolf thrust upon me without consent. Hunters chose their path; we merely inherited our existence. Why must fate play games with me? Why couldn't those with a more malicious character be in my position? They were the ones who deserved the turmoil.