CHAPTER 12
1440 Words
HAZEL
I've never yearned for death, but today, my very soul screams for it. The wolf within me thirsts for our demise.
She's a fuvking psychopath, and clearly unstable. She seems intent on getting us killed today. Why would she make such a reckless decision as to sleep in the Alpha's bed, especially considering the Brute wolves' reputation for aggression?
His low menacing growl from the doorway is enough warning I feel to my very core. But all it does is draw a little whine of irritation from my suicidal wolf.
She picks up her head, yawns dramatically at him, and proceeds to flop over to her other side.
Fuck, and she closes her eyes.
I scream at her to move, to get up, to bow or to run. Anything but she just relax in the Alpha's bed as though she belongs there.
“I see,” he says, his tone holding a lethal note that makes me shiver inside.
I’m a dead meat, Moon Goddess please help me this once because I know this is not going to end well.
“I think we need to have a conversation about etiquette and common decency, little Wolfie.” He sounds calm now. Too calm. And because my wolf’s eyes are closed. I can't even see his face. But I hear him growling towards me, his presence a darkness threatening to suffocate me from the inside out.
Thaddeus, S called him.
That name, I know that name very well.
That name, I have feared for so many years.
The Brute Wolves is known for its ruthlessness, with its wolves being among the most fearsome in the region. In contrast, the Shadow Moon Pack is more strategic, often using the Brute Wolves to intimidate smaller, nearby packs. This practice demonstrates the Shadow Moon Pack's cunning and its ability to leverage the Brute Wolves fearsome reputation for its own gain.
Thaddeus isn't just the Brute wolves Alpha but he's the former Shadow moon Alphas son too. The same Thaddeus who had slaughtered Alpha Declan's daughter. That's why he's been pushed to the Brute Wolves-not for being rejected but for slaughtering his mate.
And now my wolf had decided to take a nap on his bed. ‘f**k, we would be getting slaughtered soon.’
Now she's ignoring him, content to relax in his presence, utterly unaware of the growing tension in the room.
I really am broken, shattered, and trashed. It's the only explanation for her relaxing state and my inability to wake her the f**k up.
His palm comes down on my rump, making my wolf suddenly yelp in surprise. “Get off,” he demands.
She snarls in response.
And he snarls back at her in response, the angry sound loud and reverberating through my ears.
My heart actually stops. I feel it stutter. Just as I sense my wolf’s inability to breathe right now.
She's terrified.
Damn it, finally.
But rather than fight or run, she just freezes, like she's forgotten how to move.
“I know that you understand me,”
“Get off,” he repeats, his tone one that would bring me to my knees if I were in human form. His Alpha energy is intoxicating and overwhelming and so damn thick that I can't see straight.
Or maybe that's my wolf losing her sight right now because she hasn't taken a breath in a long time. Our lungs are aching, yet she just remains frozen.
His snarl having rendered her incapable of functioning.
He reaches for us and I beg her to run, I beg her to fight for us so we can live, I beg her to do anything other than sit here like a disobedient pet on his bed. But she refuses to listen to me.
She merely shivers as his giant soft hands take a hold of her scruff to guide us off his bed.
He’s not rough, but he's not gentle either.
And he curses at whatever he sees in his sheets.
“Alright, I have had enough of you, little brat,” he says, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “I think I know what you need.”
My vision is starting to blur with black spots.
My wolf is feeling unbalanced.
My lungs are burning.
She's lost all control of her motor functions and has obviously forgotten our will to survive. Because my wolf is still frozen, just in his arms now.
At least inhale, I beg her, my heart splintering at this helpless sensation. I felt really shattered. So utterly useless and weak. I felt so…so…lost.
I’m not this girl right here.
I’m not weak, not meek or unintelligent.”
I should have control of this situation, I should have control over everything.
But I… I just don't. And I have no idea what to do right now.
The room is so dark now__it’s black.
And my damn wolf refuses to—
Before I could think, water splashes to my face unexpectedly, drawing a sharp intake of air from my wolf that she releases on a low whine of disapproval.
“If you want to sleep in my bed, then you're atleast going to be clean,” Thaddeus says as he sets me gradually in a space bigger than my bedroom back home.
A shower, I realize, noting the marble and various heads. Who the hell needs a shower this big?
“Sits,” he wasn't asking, he was demanding and talking to me like a dog.
Which I would normally be pissed about, but my wolf is behaving like an untamed canine, so his treatment is probably deserved.
My wolf buffs, ignoring his command.
And tried to leave the shower instead.
He grabs me by the scruff to pull me back.
“Oh no, you can't do that. You're filthy from that cage from the ocean. And since you have refused to let your human take over, I'm bathing you.” he uses his grip to force my eyes to his. “And if you're a good girl, I may even offer to brush you.”
I shiver inside uncontrollably.
Something about that promise feels so… f*****g intimate.
He releases my scruff to stroke a hand down my neck to my throat. “I see you in there, little Wolfie,” he whispers, his intense eyes holding mine. “I know your wolf has already taken over but we will help you regain control.”
Finally, his soft voice soothes some aches deep inside me.
Untill I remember his name.
Thaddeus Munster.
The monster who slaughtered his mate.
His eyes narrow as though he can read my mind.
Or maybe he can smell my fear.
Rather than comment on it, he guided my wolf beneath the water again and proceed to bath her. She yelps and growls a few times, but he doesn't snarl back like before. He just runs his finger through my fur, massaging a woody scent into my coat.
It reminds me of the mango trees in the wood.
All I want to do is just inhale it, to bathe in it, but my wolf is too busy sputtering as the water touches her snout. She is not a fan of this experience at all, not understanding the intimacy of having an Alpha take care of her, or respecting his patience as he rinses away the suds.
She just keeps yipping at him.
Which earns her a rap on the nose. “Quiet, errant one.”
I almost snort. Because I have called her that once or twice already.
“I will never understand why the Silver Wolves choose to suppress their females for so long,” he mutters, making me freeze inside.
'You know what I am.'
“If you were raised in my pack, you would have started shifting around age four. We consider our forms sacred, and we embrace them at a young age to avoid the possibility of disassociation.” He turns off the water to grab a towel. “But I suspect your males do this as a way to control you. To make sure you have to rely on them to be one with your beast.”
“What kind of stupidity is that? You've got to be kidding me," he roared, his face flushed with anger.
At last, someone who understands my perspective so completely. I've felt so alone in my thinking, but now I know I'm not the only one.
‘You think they’re bad? You haven’t seen anything yet, They are even dumber than you think,’ I said, rolling my eyes.
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