His Wolf

Twenty-Two

Three weeks. It's been three weeks since that day down in the dungeons. Lucy is back to herself finally; after seeing Thomas again it took her about a whole week for us to get her out of the house, and eat again. Her nightmares have come back and I curse myself every time I hear her screams from across the hall, knowing that it's my fault they were back in the first place. Of course, if it wasn't for him they never would have existed. 

You can still see traces of pure exhaustion and fear etched into her face, but she was faring better than Kara who was now facing the side-effects of losing a mate head-on. Bags were constantly under her red-rimmed eye, tears streaking her sheet white skin that was missing its natural glow. Her dark brown hair hung limply around her shoulders and remained knotted on the days she left it unbrushed. It got so bad that Shar had to help bathe her and have someone keep a constant eye on her. She refused to eat as well, but luckily Lucy ate some even if it was few and far in between and tiny bits when she did.

I was afraid that Kara would snap like most do when they have lost a mate, but surprisingly she bounced back by the second week and was now currently sitting on the floor beside Max. She was trying to tell her that she didn't need to be afraid of sitting on the furniture, but Max refused to even place a paw on it. I still kept an eye on Kara, not sure if her wolf would flip, but it seemed to be coping fairly well.

Max on the other hand was less so.

When I went back down to the cell that held Carson, he was up and spacing the length of the bars. Mere inches from burning his tan skin. He stopped when he heard me coming and all but fell to the floor in relief. He spoke to me about things that I had already assumed. He explained to me that the reason Max had gone berserk and busted out of the hospital room in the first place was that she was trying to get me to establish my authority over her.

"We are equals, I would never do that, could never do that," I shot back with a shake of my head.

"But she doesn't understand that, Alpha," he began again, telling me things in a way you would a child. I was half tempted to rip his throat out right then and there, but I knew I couldn't just yet. He explained to me what her habits may consist of: Walking behind us, not next to or in front of, not following without being told so, keeping off the furniture no matter the number of times we give her permission, eating only kibble, hardly ever making eye contact, and so forth. I shook my head at him again and refused to believe any of it, but once I got back to my mate's room and found her cowering in the corner, under the bed as Kara cleaned up the mess that was in the floor, I knew that I had a challenge ahead of me.

Now three weeks later, Lucy is no longer barricading herself in her room, Thomas having gone back to his cabin on the edge of the border, and she was eating and training normally again. Kara was still struggling on some days, but she wasn't letting the grief hold her down as she continued to help me with Max. When I asked her why she didn't express any anger towards her and try to attack her during these days, she simply replied, "My wolf isn't angry at her. She and I both know that Max is not in control of her actions when she goes like that. Besides. I don't think she realizes what she did was wrong, and somehow helping her is helping me,"

I took in her words and replayed them in my head as I watched her try and place Maxs paw in the couch cousin, for the twentieth time, only for her to pull it back with a snarl as soon as it touched the material. I tensed up at the sound and saw Kara do the same. In the three weeks since that day in the dungeons, Max has been mostly calm, submissive, but calm nonetheless. But there were still days when the feral side came out to play, days when a simple snarl, just as that one, could be the only warning you get before your flesh is meet with her teeth. Poor Ben almost got his face chewed off yesterday.