by Unknown
It's been hours since we switched our places and, although I keep dosing off as my lids closing against my will to keep them up, I can never fully relax in my seat.
"Don't fall asleep on me, Scar." A slight nudge to my side follows her words. She won't let me rest. "We're almost there."
Her face looks blurred in my vision, lack of sleep and exhaustion both playing on it.
"You keep saying this. Yet, here we are - in the middle of nowhere," I mumble groggily to her. All that's come from her mouth so far has been a total BS.
"Ten minutes," she promises for probably the fifteenth time, bags under her eyes and dark circles surrounding them.
She's the only person who has done anything for me. For two years, there hasn't been anyone to help me, sacrifice themselves in any, even the smallest of ways person... for me.
This means amount to something. Her sacrifice must mean we're really getting somewhere. Getting home.
Trusting her - a stranger, "Hope there's a bed ready 'cause I'm ready to fall down," I say, imagining all that could be waiting for me, hopefully will.
"A bed as well as breakfast," she taunts.
My stomach taking that as a sign to give a loud churn by the very mention of food, I perk up.
Turning my way, giving me a soft chuckle, "See, it's hungry," she points out.
"Eyes on the road, please," I snap, irked by her careless driving. "I would rather have us stay on the road, you know." She knows. We both do after what happened.
Rolling her eyes at me, she raises her arms in a gesture of mock surrender. "Yeah, hold it against me, will ya?"
"Hands on the freaking wheel, Micah!" I shout, both drowsiness and hunger forgotten.
"Alright, alright. Chill, girlfriend," she bellows, placing her hands on the wheel.
The rest of the journey is spent in silence, only interrupted by her occasional chuckle. Listening to the rumble of the engine, watching the passing by trees, the light that intensifies as the wind picks up the leaves, throws them to the ground to rot for the coming winter, I can't help but think of all I've left behind.
Imagining Alpha with his pack, he's now probably sitting at breakfast, laughing alongside them, happy and rejoicing despite his mate not being next to him. Wishing that he could feel it, what it's like to be broken - empty, I know he probably doesn't.
Too strong to be weak. Too domineering to feel anything but anger because of my decision to leave him to his own devices. Forcing me to crumble from the very beginning. Why?
"Safe and sound at the final destination." Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
Holding my breath, I see the house looming ahead of us, the people waiting in front.
"Right on time too. See, you shouldn't have doubted me," she tells me with a smirk. I have had every reason to doubt her, thank you very much.
As soon as she pulls over in front of the house, I hop out of the car, shaking my head at her.
The welcome party consists of six people - five males and a female. At five feet eleven she's just a few inches shorter than the males, hair a dark shade of red, falling past her shoulders, she's standing next to a guy with multiple tattoos, his arm possessively snaked around her waist.
Two of the males are dressed in jeans and t-shirts, chests strong and bulky under the clothes as their eyes are silently inspecting, evaluating me. The one in the middle of the group has chosen a black leather jacket over his button down and faded jeans while the man standing in front of the group, is wearing a black suit, golden hair shining under the sunlight and a shadow of a beard shading half of his otherwise strikingly beautiful face and giving him a somewhat rugged look.
Silver gaze resting upon me, the man steps forth, offering me a hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Scarlet. My name is Michael and I'm a friend of your father."
My father, however, didn't have any vampire friends. I should have known if he had. And Michael, with the gleam of fang showed through his parted in a smile lips, is surely one of the undead.
Lifting my hand, I place it in his. "A pleasure," I respond politely. "So, you knew my father?"
The guy behind Michael shuffles nervously, his midnight black eyes probing at me like I'm some kind of a rare specimen in his study.
"I knew him, yes," Michael confirms, eyes closing for a moment, then snapping back at me. "He was a fine man," he says quietly. "A rare kind of person."
My stepdad hasn't been a rare kind of person, no. He was just an ordinary man trying to keep his pack as strong as it could possibly be. Despite the odds.
And he failed. There is nothing rare about failure as far as I know.
"I'm sorry he's not the one to meet you today," Michael says, grief in those silver eyes. "He'd have wanted to be the one to meet you."
What a strange thing to say. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand, sir. I lived my whole life with my dad and you're speaking like he never really knew--"
"No, Scarlet." He shakes his head. "Your real father never even met you. He was killed before he could return to you and your mom." Sadness, so much sadness in those eyes, in those words.
"Oh. I-"
"And please, just call me Michael."
"Yes, I can do that, si--... I mean, Michael. But how do you know... err, my real father?"
"It's a long story, Scarlet, and I'll tell it to you but maybe at a better time."
"Yeah, he'll tell you all about it later. Now, come on. Let's get this pity party over and get something to eat. I'm starving," Micah says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"You should starve for getting her here two days later," the guy next to Michael declares, scowling at her.
Right on time, huh? I smirk at her.
"Oh, shut up, Scar!"
"I didn't say anything," I point out, arms up in surrender only to be met by her hard stare.
"You thought it just fine, though," she accuses.
I shrug. Can't deny the obvious, can I?
"I see you're going to be just fine here, Scarlet," Michael interrupts, hushing the obnoxious girl next to me. "Have fun and enjoy yourself. Cole here is going to get you up to speed. I hope we meet again soon so we can have our private conversation."
"Likewise, Michael. It was nice meeting you," I say, shaking his hand once more before he turns to leave.
In the blink of an eye, he's gone.
"Well, Scarlet," the guy who has spoken to Micah earlier begins. "Let's finish the introductions and get you something to eat, shall we?" he winks.
I nod, smiling at him. Returning the smile, dark brown locks falling in messy curls, his midnight eyes are intent on me.
Motioning towards the couple, he says, "Those two lovebirds are Jazmine and Hunter." he motions towards the couple as the redhead gives a small wave my way.
The guy nods my way, his girlfriend giving me the smallest of waves before looking away as if there's nothing of interest she's seeing in me.
"Nice to meet you both," I offer with a smile a bit envious of their obvious affection for each other. Something I will never have. It doesn't hurt me, not the way it is supposed to. It stings, pain tuned out by darkness that lives inside of me.
"David." I nod at the shy brunette next to Cole. "And this one here is his brother-"
"Thanks, Cole," the guy snorts, then offers me a heart-warming smile. "It's Adam, babe." He supplies, tapping a finger in the middle of his chest, right above the 'Hottie Alert' writing on his baby pink t-shirt.
Raising a brow, I give Adam an appreciative once-over. A wicked grin spreads across his face, baby blues sparkling with humor at my appraisal of him.
Welcoming my attention, offering me a hand, he issues a cocky, "Only stating the obvious, sweetheart."
"Cut it off, Adam," Cole grumbles, shooing the offered hand away and replacing it with his own. "Don't bother with him, darling. He's not going to deliver. He's swinging the opposite way," he whispers only for me to hear which, with the company he keeps, is close to impossible.
"Jackass."
Muttered under his breath, Adam goes into the house, the others follow in as well.
Giggling, I accept Cole's offered hand.
"You look like someone ran over you, darling," he remarks leaning in to whisper in my ear. "But don't worry. I'll let you get your beauty sleep before I start with you," he says and leads me into the house.
(13) Breaking Bonds
|Scarlet's POV|
Stilling my body in front of the metal pole, the harsh wind is biting my skin, my body as uncovered as my soul is. The Moon will see it all. Tonight.
It's been almost a week since I met them. Hunter, Jaz, David, Adam and Cole. Two weeks since I met Micah. My life has settled into a comfort I never knew before. To be with others like myself. Half-lings. Aberrations.
They accept me for what I am. They are the same. They come from the same place, their pain similar to mine if not the same.
My new pack. My brothers and sisters who never ooze bitter judgment and set my insides on fire.
Regan is a distant memory, a nightmare that lives at night, during the restless hours of sleep I can not deny my body as I deny him. He's still living, breathing and fighting his battles somewhere far away from my small paradise. He's not forgotten, neither is he forgiven.
He's just away.
Looking down at my bare flesh, seeing the first traces of the cold surfacing on my skin, it's slowly losing its color, paling under the unforgiving chill of the early evening.
The sun, dipping into the horizon, leaving purple and orange trails behind as dusk sweeps over to cover the darkening sky, the trees whispering, branches protesting under the wind caress, leaves falling to their earthly grave... It is all a reminder.
What needs to be done shall be done. Tonight. Before it's too late.
The promise is there, floating in the air as we wait for the Moon to join us and witness the thread binding me to my past being broken.
As I shall be broken.
The substantial chains are left in the past. What's left are the shackles that are hidden from the eye, chaining my soul still. What I mean to break tonight is my bond to the pack, to Alpha. It's the last obstacle I must overcome to set myself free.
I can feel him inside me, like a burning ache in the hollow of my heart, the same heart I want to rip out, to break apart, but I need it - its pain, to feed the darkness that hides under my warm gaze and honest pretense of a smile. Creeping in me like the evil of old, always there, always present in my mind, just safely at bay.
Tucked away, this is my last defense against emotion, against fate, for I may have found shelter but am far from sheltered. There's too much evil in the world for me to have faith again. Too much darkness inside me to give up my fears.
Is my comfort false? Is this all a lie I try to believe in? Day after day of tranquility that may turn to be nothing but an illusion?
I don't know and I'm not sure I care. Taking it for as long as it'd last, that's all I can do.
The chill creeps up my spine, self-consciousness flaring as I struggle not to cover my nudity. The others are watching my every move, testing my strength and determination as the fever is born with the first rays of moonlight.
She's here now. Finally making her long awaited entrance.
Stepping towards me, holding a silver chalice with his hands, "Let us begin," Cole breathes out in a hushed voice. The metal must be burning his fingertips, taste hot on the skin. Even if it is, no trace of that pain is portrayed on the moonlit face. Like a rock standing against the wind, he will stay. Never to be shaken, never to be displaced from his guarding stand at the edge of the cliff.
Taking the chalice, my hands are trembling, eyes never daring to dart low, at the liquid, I'm anticipating its poisoning invasion inside my skin form. Pressing it to my lips, expecting the burn of it any moment now, bracing for that touch of the metal that should have been felt seconds ago, the liquid is bitter and vile on my tongue, not burning.
Cool under my fingertips, the silver is just another metal as I swallow mouthfuls of poison, fighting not to gag on its passage down.
Belly full, it takes me minutes until I can feel it - warming, hot, burning, intensifying as it keeps spreading the fever until scorching hot talons are clawing their way through my insides.
I'm shaking. I'm writhing on the mossy ground. Poison is swirling inside me, bile is boiling up to my throat... I push it down, denying its way further.
Colors flickering before my eyes, my sight is blurred and hazy. I fight for lungfuls of air, none of which ever comes.
Hands are brought to my flesh, gripping my shoulders tightly, I'm moved to the pole. My arms raised, metal is clasped over my wrists, forcing me to a kneeling position. Lay down, cry out to the Moon, how can I do that when I must submit to the inevitable?
A sacrifice of the flesh. It's hers to take and mine to offer.
"The whip," I hear Cole's voice urge in command. Steps fall on the ground, hushed voices whispering things I can't understand. I am shaking. Trembling like a juvenile facing her first punishment ever.
A shot for freedom. Something that needs to be done. Can I do it?
The first lash comes like a thunder, lightning agony in its wake. My flesh torn, angry kisses are marring the pale.
Grounding my teeth, the screams suppressed by my stubbornness, the lashes are raining over my body.
Skin breaks, blood seeps out in streams. The whip comes again, its tendrils sticking into flesh and bones, it's ripping my body in unrelenting rhythm.
I have no control left. There's no mercy.
Absolution. Purifying me from him. From my sins.
All my reasons for doing this gone, my wish to be cut off from my old pack no longer, the monster is not the one holding me prisoner.
Madness. Stupidity. My own doing.
I'm stripped bare. I'm flayed alive. Nothing is holding the pieces together.
"Stop," I beg. "Please, no more." I can take no more.
"Break it!" Command lashing out just like the whip is, whistling in the air. "Break it and I'll stop."
Words on deaf ears, meaningless promises for a future, I'm too weak. There's too much pain. My words are gone before I can speak them aloud.
The whip falls again, weaving around my stomach... hungrier than before. He pulls it tighter around me. Screaming, pleading, there's no sound coming from me. It's all in my head as my skin tears off from my body, leaving blood-red meat behind which I'm trying not to see when my head falls to my chest.
My tears are seeping out in a constant flow, burning the flesh as I fight for life. This is how it's done. This is how a bond is being broken. The moon children have failed to find another way but through agony. I am brought to the brink of death just because of that bond I share with the pack. A means to an end, yet I can not see the end of it. I've lost my purpose as well as my will.
Hating, struggling against each breath surging inside my lungs, there's nothing but darkness eating at me, the last of the lights dying out, threads connecting me to others thinning with each lash. I want to hold onto them. Out of reach.
Their voices desperate for me to hold, his is calling me, urging me to take what he's offering. What is it that he's offering me?
Little knots unified in an unbreakable net of sparkle and shine, like a net of stars in an endless sky, can I fight falling into that sky? Can I stand on my own two feet?
The center of my own universe. No pack. No Alpha. Free.
Every whimper rasping past my lips, every burn gracing my flesh, the past and the present, merging together in an intricate thread of unimaginable agony.
I watch the darkness eating on the bond, twisting it until it snaps. Screams, cries, whimpers, and pleas are echoing in that place.
No pack. No Alpha. Free.
The net melting, the eerie silence is disrupted only by the clash of metal on metal. The bond is cut. My soul is missing its limb. It has been crippling me for so long and yet, even if I curse myself for it, I can't help but feel its loss
.
I look up, noticing my shackled hands hitting the pole in an attempt to free themselves, and manage to halt the motion when I feel another set upon my skin. A key is brought to the small locks, the restraints being unclasped from my wrists with unforeseen gentleness.
"You did it, Scarlet," Cole tells me, his voice wavering with emotion. "You broke the bond."
I manage a small smile, despite the scorching ache inside my chest, despite the broken shell of a girl I have become, despite the emptiness I can feel in place of the connection to my pack.
The Moon has seen it all.
(14) Into The Fray
|Scarlet's POV|
The wounds healed. The scars faded, leaving barely visible imprints behind. Months passed since that fateful night. New wounds are now gracing my body, some to add to the marvelous carving my flesh has become, others to fade without a trace. I don't care about scarring my body, in a way I never have but now flesh seems to be of no importance to me when I can feel it so deep inside... The ache is there. The wound is still bleeding, swelling as I fight to keep up with the rest of me who is changing.
I can't let the others down. They've become my family.
Nothing is holding me back now. Nothing is stopping me from becoming what I'm meant to become.
But who am I without the pack? Who am I without him? Who am I here on this hunt?
A celebration for my early graduation, I've come here to hunt with the others, let Cole convince me that there's nothing wrong with what we are going to do, who we are going to kill.
I need to feed, to drink.
My body can't withstand the change. I can't keep fighting the instinct, the need.
Standing next to me, it's Micah who brought me out here – in no man's land where every transgression is allowed.
We can do anything, be anything we want. No matter the cost.
A white blanket is covering the frozen earth, the Moon shaded from view from the winter clouds. On the night of the lovers, she's probably engaged in a much better activity than to spy on us. I hope she is.
