Skinned

¤ Butchered Nature ¤

“Reed?” I called out as I briskly walked over to the clinic.

I noticed the way his throat bobbed as soon as he knew that he had to acknowledge me and fill me in with his brother’s situation, his cerulean eyes met the ground and his features alone gave me the idea that he was dreading to answer questions that begged to know more about Heath’s circumstance.

I flinched when someone suddenly exited the infirmary, and it took me a split second to realize that it was Azeil with his neck still tightly bandaged. Maxon was next to appear from behind him.

I hadn’t seen him in a long time, and I was quick to notice that a lot had changed in his features.

What Azeil had been before was completely gone, replaced by a male with a sickly pale complexion, sunken cheeks, and rugged features that told everyone of his downfall.

All the strength and purpose that he carried in his posture had completely laid waste, as if he had fully abandoned a part of himself—left in a ditch where even he couldn’t find for himself.

Aziel, a former alpha once trusted by the majority of the pack, had turned into an embodiment of grief.

And to werewolves, grief is the cruelest enemy.

I knew how such a thing could break you, and I gritted my teeth when I could hear clearly my father’s words, his voice a mix of grief and pain:

“If you lose your title, your pack, and you lose your mate, you fucking pray—beg the Moon that grief doesn’t make you lose yourself.”

“Take them after bed and the morning you wake up. I also added another one for the pain,” Maxon briefly told Azeil and held out a small brown bag, “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

Taking the bag from Maxon’s hand whom immediately barged back into the infirmary to tend to his other patient, Azeil turned to make his leave but came to an abrupt stop when he finally saw me standing just below the front steps of the infirmary.

As if I had flipped the switch somewhere inside of him, his features shifted from one that looked lost into one that completely gave out his animosity,

and it was all directed at me.

Reed was quick to react by standing between me and Azeil, and he raised a cautious hand up at Azeil to stop him from anything that he was itching to do to me.

“Go home, Azeil,” Reed told him slowly.

“And you’re still taking her side? After Celeste, you’re still sticking up to this bitch?” Azeil snarled, but despite the venom in his words, his eyes quickly glazed over, like the mere mention of his other half’s name was enough of a torture to him.

“I just don’t want any trouble,” Reed said.

Azeil let out a bitter laugh, and he looked as if he was trying hard not to let the despair from reaching his face.

“She’s just here to see Heath, you need to go home,” Reed told him, and when Azeil didn’t respond, Reed looked at me over his should and jerked his head to the entrance of the infirmary, signaling me to walk inside with him.

Reed allowed me to go first, and I walked around Azeil and up to the front steps without sparing him a glance, unable to find enough strength to look at him straight in the eyes when I knew that I was the one who left the look of loss in them.