“PLEASE JUST KILL ME!” Cory wailed, the pain had become so intense, so sharp and so unrelenting that he couldn’t bare it any longer. He had been writhing, twisting, contorting and screaming for hours.
Every second was too long.
His eyes were dry and stung. He couldn’t move his arms anymore – they had gone numb yet the pain still attacked his bones from beneath the skin and internal tissue. His legs were aching from his continuous writhing and yanking against the padded handcuffs. At some point he had dug his nails into the palms of his hands, knowing he had drawn blood – but his hope sunk into the darkest depths when that pain didn’t distract his body from the crushing agony that ravaged his very being.
“Joy…” Cory huffed out hoarsely “Please…save me…” The scarlet-haired man begged to the heavens; he begged the only person who was there for him, the only person who ever protected and nurtured him.
“That will not work. Your magic is sealed in the silver bracelet around your forearm. You are not able to contact spirits – she cannot hear you” Ambrose spoke dispassionately.
Cory hung his head in defeated desperation. His lungs painfully expanded as Cory drew in a shaky, scorching breath. He tried to clamp his jaw shut and grind his teeth to cope – but, alas, his jaw was also numb from overexertion.
“Ambrose…please” Cory spoke sluggishly “Kill…me.”
“No” Ambrose replied in a monotone voice “It seems you have discovered much about the collaboration between sorcerer and wolves. But, you have not discovered all. I collaborate with the Lightpaw pack members. You are not a Lightpaw pack member, Cory. I have no contractual obligation to comply with your desires or orders.”
Cory choked out a sob as he felt another wave of pain rise within him “NO…PLEASE! NO MORE!”
Yet the pain arrived, violently, viciously and without humane consent. The fire started in his feet, curling his toes – which seemed to excite the pain as it intensified. It then bred up his calves and thighs – a rusted ball of spikes travelling beneath Cory’s skin; it punctured both his bones and tissue – slitting open the muscle tissue and scrapping the bones as it slowly travelled higher inside Cory’s body.
Cory whipped his head back and let loose a scream – yet, no sound came out. No relief could be found from even a simple comfort of expressive screaming. Cory felt that his voice had, as he himself had, given up – surrendering to the pain and hopelessness of his futile struggle.
The rusted ball of spikes rolled under and around Cory’s skin as if fiendishly searching for the area to inflict maximum pain to an already torn apart Cory. It forced its way under the skin to Cory’s stomach – rolling around it over and over and over again. Cory begun gagging but nothing came up – as nothing had come up throughout the numerous hours of his savage torture. The ball then shoved its way higher up into Cory’s oesophagus – puncturing and mercilessly piercing holes in the tender tissue. The scarlet-haired man arched his back to gasp in air, even though it was fire, even though it caused pain – Cory gasped in the molten air.
The torturous ball found its target as it rolled across Cory’s ribs to his spine.
Cory began silently crying, he won’t survive anymore pain. He wasn’t capable of it. He tiredly pulled on the padded handcuffs, knowing it wouldn’t let him get away.
The ball slowed as it approached the base of Cory’s spine. Cory leaned as far from the headboard as he could get – his wrists held hostage against the bedpost. The ball then slowly, as if taking its relaxed time, rolled across each of Cory’s vertebrae. Every puncture sent overcharged shockwaves through Cory’s body – the pain was so electric Cory was convinced he would die from electrocution.
Then he heard the raw, yet bell-like, croak of a raven.
He collapsed back against the headboard. The pain had stopped. Cory took a shaky breath and braced himself for the flaming pain. It didn’t happen. He blinked his eyes – they were still dry and so that action stung slightly – and he looked at his legs which were still bare. He hesitantly moved his head side to side – again feeling no pain.
His skin began tingling and Cory winced, expecting the momentary relief to have come to an end, but the tingling caused goosebumps and didn’t incite any chaotic, rampaging agony.
“Wh- What’s happening?” Cory asked Ambrose in a hoarse voice that was broken and soft.
“It appears your detox period has been completed in only one night. Is your skin tingling?” The black-haired sorcerer asked clinically.
“It is” Cory confirmed.
“That sensation is your scent being released from your skin. Scent-suppressants draw a wolf’s scent into their muscle and organ tissue, effectively preventing their skin from emitting their scent” Ambrose put down his teacup which Cory hadn’t even realised he had during his hellishly anguishing night “Lycanthropes rely on scent for identification and obscure communication purposes – such as smelling the scent of arousal. The extracting effect of scent-suppressants traps a wolf’s unique scent inside their bodies. Every wolf has a unique undertone to their scent – perhaps it could be called a pheromone or chemical. This chemical then accumulates within the wolf which can cause illness similar to an overdose – resulting in death at times. How you managed to survive taking the taboo drug for years is a mystery. I suppose it was just dumb luck” Ambrose finished explaining as he undid Cory’s handcuffs.
The young man’s arm flopped lamely to the bed as did the other arm when Ambrose released it from its restraint.
Cory sighed in the most intense relief he had ever felt in his life. He then registered that his grey shirt was completely wet from sweat. Not in a dramatic or exaggerated fashion – it was as wet as a shirt that had been dunked in a pool of water. It clung to his skin. He moved to stand up but collapsed immediately back onto the bed – his head spinning.
“Something’s not right” Cory spoke in that hoarse voice.
“You are dehydrated. I will return shortly with an intravenous drip to rehydrate you” Ambrose replied tonelessly “You will fall asleep in a matter of seconds from exhaustion.”
“Please throw the blanket over me?” Cory asked, his eyes already drooping. He was relieved that his skin wasn’t burning in a raging blaze anymore, but now he was getting too cold for comfort.
Cory sluggishly shuffled to the pillow and laid his head down. The last thing he felt was a blanket being thrown over him before he gladly succumbed to Sleep’s peace.
*****
The sun rose shyly, its beams barely breaking through the thick woods surrounding the cottage; surrounding the entire pack lands.
Grayson was panting in desperate air from even more desperate worry that shifted rapidly, back and forth, to rage. A cycle of panicked worry to lethal rage and back around in repetition.
“PLEASE JUST KILL ME” Grayson heard Cory screech.
The Alpha’s heart skipped a beat as the painful cry registered in his mind. Apollo howled in desperation as a chill dragged down Grayson’s spine. He ran full speed and flung himself at the door again, only now feeling the shooting pain from his dislocated shoulder.
With his uninjured arm he slammed a fist against the unyielding, decaying door that seemed to mock him for not being able to break such an old and fragile thing down.
Grayson pounded his fist against the mocking door, “AMBROSE! LET ME IN!” Grayson bellowed in an emotion he couldn’t decipher at the moment. The door didn’t shake or shiver at the Alpha’s overwhelming force; it remained unresponsive as if Grayson hadn’t even touched it.
There was brief period of muttering inside the cottage that Grayson, in his panicked state, couldn’t hear. Was Ambrose agreeing to Cory’s death plea? Would the sorcerer kill Cory?
Grayson’s bloodshot eyes widened in paranoid panic, he slammed against the door again, ignoring the hot pain that shot through his shoulder. He continued ramming against the door.
“What is the matter Alpha Lightpaw? Can you not even break me down to save your mate? I’m so old and splintered” Grayson heard the door taunt. He knew it was a hallucination. He knew it was from exhaustion or stress, but that didn’t stop the acidic anger burning his insides at the taunt.
“NO…PLEASE! NO MORE!” The white-haired man heard his mate cry out.
Grayson clenched his fists in anger.
“Sorcerer will die” Apollo snarled in Grayson’s mind.
“Grayson” Lucian spoke beside the Alpha “Here are new clothes.”
Grayson hadn’t heard Lucian’s approach, he hadn’t even sensed his Beta. His focus was sharply attuned to the cottage in which his mate was being tortured. He hadn’t even registered that he was completely nude. After Apollo took control last night the wolf had ordered a barrage against the dingy cottage. When it didn’t yield in any way Apollo ran through the woods and came to a clearing. After that, Apollo seemed to have blacked out the memory from Grayson.
The white-haired Alpha wanted to know why his wolf had done that. He wanted to know what happened in that blacked out space, but Apollo had just begun talking to him again. Grayson didn’t want to push or try his luck with his wolf.
After Grayson rejected Cory four years ago, Apollo took complete control and went on a carnal rampage. He attacked other pack members, severely injuring pack warriors that tried to subdue him and destroyed property at random, destructive selections.
It was Joy who had managed to subdue Apollo. There was no way for a wolf to verbally communicate to a non-wolf. They relied solely on the pack link to communicate.
Apollo had arrived at the gate leading to the pack manor, with the clear intent of killing Grayson’s parents. He came to a stop when he saw the old woman, her grey hair dancing softly in the breeze. She stood between Apollo and the gate to the Alpha’s manor, completely relaxed and unfazed by the nine feet tall, white wolf that held murder in its glowing yellow eyes.
Apollo snarled threateningly, snapping his jaws in absolute rage at the pack sorceress’ insubordination. Joy calmly removed her black rimmed glasses and stared at the wolf with her cold purple eyes that held a shine of absolute wisdom. As if she had seen beyond herself, beyond the land, beyond the pack and beyond the world itself.
“Apollo” Joy spoke in a monotone voice “Beyond this gate is the Alpha’s manor. Within are the current Alpha Aiden and Luna Sky – Grayson Lightpaw’s parents.”
Apollo bared his teeth and lunged at Joy. The sorceress pointed at the ground and, in mid-air, Apollo was slammed to the earth harshly. He was too proud to release a yelp of pain.
Apollo got to his feet and shook his body, his eyes glared at Joy – preparing to pounce again.
“Sit” Joy raised her voice slightly – but something in her tone cracked through the air like thunder. Apollo sat on his hind legs involuntarily – as if he had no control over himself.
“My contract was sanctioned and decreed by the Alpha and Luna. My priorities are therefore clear. It is my duty to protect them – even if that means from their own son” Joy spoke tonelessly “I am aware that Grayson Lightpaw rejected his mate. I am aware that Cory has renounced his clanship to the Lightpaw pack…” Joy stopped speaking for a moment, thinking about something.
Apollo couldn’t raise his hind legs – he was unable to do so. But, something about the sorceress’ words calmly wrapped around his vengeful intentions. He became entranced and listened to her closely.
“I, too, hold anger at Grayson Lightpaw for what he has done” Joy spoke, the slightest hint of sadness slipped into her tone “I raised that child… Even though I had seen this night coming years ago, there is no adequate preparation for goodbyes – they will always hurt. Listen closely, Apollo-”
Apollo blacked out the memory of what Joy had said after that from Grayson.
The last words the white-haired male had heard from his wolf four years ago were “I will not shift for you. I will sleep. Our job was to protect mate. To love mate. And you reject mate. You hurt mate.” Apollo hadn’t spoken to Grayson after that.
“Grayson?” Lucian spoke again, snapping the Alpha out of his memories.
“Lucian” Grayson spoke in his baritone Alpha voice “Pop my shoulder back in.”
“Yes, Alpha” Lucian responded obediently. He slightly lifted Grayson’s tan, muscular arm and popped it back into place. Grayson winced slightly at the pain but then numbed it out.
“I command tha-” Grayson started in his Alpha voice when he heard the croak of a raven and the pained screaming stop.
“I suppose the ritual was a success” Lucian commented absently, still waiting for his Alpha’s orders.
But Grayson didn’t see it the way Lucian saw it. The Alpha’s heart constricted in anguish – had Ambrose killed Cory?
The door to the cottage opened and Grayson grabbed Ambrose by his black shirt collar, “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!”
Lucian pried Grayson off Ambrose with great difficulty.
“Calm yourself, Grayson. The ritual was a success – he is currently asleep. I am going to return with an intravenous drip as he is extremely dehydrated. Despite that, Cory is fine. He just needs to rest” Ambrose spoke dispassionately, unfazed by Grayson’s anger. The sorcerer then walked along the trail through the woods.
Grayson sighed in relief, he went to go inside but Lucian grabbed his arm.
“Put clothes on first” Lucian suggested.
“Oh, right” Grayson agreed and slipped into whatever clothes Lucian had fetched for him.
He then walked into the cottage and his senses sharpened. His heart beat slow and steady – yet full and loud. His nose inhaled the most pleasant scent he had ever come across. The dancing perfume of Wisteria that he had last smelled four years ago. Apollo whined in pleasure, finally being able to smell their mate’s scent again. Grayson’s skin tingled and he visibly shivered in ecstasy – not caring that Lucian was right behind him.
Grayson looked over to Cory’s bed. The scarlet-haired man was in a deep sleep, his face glistened heavily from sweat. His red hair completely soaked. The blanket that covered him rose slowly and steadily – peacefully – from his calm breathing.
Grayson approached the bed quietly and kneeled next to it. One of Cory’s hands hung out of the blanket. Grayson touched it to move it under the blanket.
But Cory withdrew his hand, groaning in pain yet not waking up.
Grayson’s touch still hurt Cory.
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