She'd been imprisoned in every way. She couldn't even think to take a step out of place. She had disappeared into the furthest shadow of her mind to escape and conceded to the man who had ruined her.
Submission had been forced onto her until she...
I think karma has truly come for me. Visions of the old me materialize from nothing. I feel it watching me just out of view. I hate it and I think I long for it. It's an addiction begging to be sated. This must be what drove Panganiban to it time and time again. His mate should've killed him years before she did, I wish mine would.
I know how I've affected her. I sit by her door every night. She does not sleep but, lies still and corpse-like. She reminds me I am a coward. I am the fool who sits at her door too afraid of what I am and what I have done to every try and right it. I wouldn't even know how to start. There is no way to broach or ignore the issue so, what is left? Time? How much time would it take to make this sin seem small enough to handle? I don't imagine either of us will see such time.
Maybe I should just let her go.
The war would make it a challenge but, I could try to track down where she came from. She must be in her early twenties now and I took her a few years ago so she could have parents out there. I doubt she would remember them anymore. They're just one more thing I took from her.
If I find them I could ask who she was before. I often wonder what she was like before I got to her. It's like I never truly got to meet my mate, I killed her before I had the chance. How soft would her hair be had I not starved her? How giving her touch had I not demanded it? I used to wonder about her before I drank the blood, and I still do.
My hallucinations have driven me out of the mausoleum. The presence of far better men only reminds me of my inferiority. I don't need any more reason to turn to false strength. Instead, I sit in my office trying to work enough that I do not think. The only good thing this war has brought for me is distraction. Negotiations to end the conflict take lots of paperwork.
The only trouble with this room is that it's where I first realized she would never love me. It's almost funny to remember. I begged her to tell me she did and was entirely unsatisfied when she did. I threw a fit over the lie I made her tell me. I remember her blank expression that day. If she had had any thought it would have been of what a fool I was. I raging maniac undone by forced pleasantry.
Every room of this castle is haunted. Everywhere I look is something I ruined. I'd like to burn it down.
"Alpha Grimm", a voice breaks me from my thoughts.
"Hello doctor", I greet him, "how can I help you?". He smiles fittingly at me but, I do not miss how the stack of papers he holds shakes in his hands. He's likely heard all about me or even treated wounds I've caused. As professional as he is I'm sure he'd like nothing more than to be far away from me. Whatever he has to say must be important for him to be here.
"I'd like to congratulate you and the Luna", he starts, "I brought some documents for the two of you to look over before her next checkup". His steps are hesitant as he comes to set the papers on my desk. He must have heard all about what I did to her. He's a brave man asking to treat her now that I've returned to my senses.
"Thank you", I tell him. I avoid looking at the papers. They are only further testament to my sins. I'll read through them with her later.
The poor man accepts my thanks as dismissal and nearly sprints from the room. I should send him something as an apology for having to deal with me.
I spend the next few hours reading through treaties and their addendums until the medical papers can no longer be ignored. I doubt she wants to see me much less talk about any medical attention she needs because of me.
I find my way up the stairs and down the hall to her door. It's a familiar path. It won't be long until my steps are worn into the floor. I wonder if she suspects how often I come to visit her door.
I tap my knuckles lightly against her door. If I weren't such a fuckup I wouldn't be doing this right now. We would be sharing a room right now. It's amazing how something simple as knocking can find a way to send needles into my heart.
"Coming", she calls. Her voice is light in a way that could never be intended for me. She swings the door open with a smile on her face that drops as soon as realizes it's me. Her light and her smile are for Breuer, I get a sharp intake of breath and frown.
"Hello", she whispers shuffling her feet. I remember how she berated me the last I saw her. I wished she'd do it again.
"May I come in?", I ask her. She opens her mouth to say something before deciding against it. I realize she doesn't want to come in or deny me.
"I have some papers I need to go over with you", I tell her, "we could go somewhere else if it would be better".
"What kind of papers?", she asks me. She tilts her head slightly and I am enamored by the action.
"One of the pack doctors came by this morning wanting to set up an appointment for you", I tell her. Her eyes go wide in a moment of abject horror before she schools her features again. The tilt of her head rights itself and she is again the blank I forced upon her.
"Did you read them?", she asks.
"No", I tell her desperate for her to come back, "I want to read them with you". She stays silent and blank. I know her inexpression is my fault and it makes me hate it all the more. I stare down at her feet, they are still.
"I'm sorry", I whisper. The words are useless and we both know it but, I have nothing else to offer. If there was any amount of truth or remorse I could give her to undo what I've done I would gladly give it. The words hang in the rift between us incapable of ever healing or reversing my sin.
"Sorry?", she asks, "you're sorry".
"Yes", my hands fidget at my sides. They tense into fists and unfurl again.
A long moment passes before she breaks the silence. When she does it's not with words. A sound like crying fills the air. As usual, I've somehow made things worse.
When I look up I do not find tear-stained skin and glass eyes.
"Are you-", I start but, she does it again.
"Are you laughing?", I ask.
She smiles lightly at me, "I'm not sure". Her words break with giggles. I'm more worried now than I was when I thought she was crying.
"Are you alright?", I ask.
"I doubt it", she says, "I've never felt this". Again, she laughs, louder now. I hesitantly offer out a hand not knowing what I expect her to do with it, it's as useless as the rest of me. She ignores my hand and throws her body against mine. Her weight collapses against me and I wrap my arms around her waist to catch her. She explodes into laughter. Her fists swing wildly at my chest.
"I don't want your fucking apology", she says, "I want to know why you did this to me. What was so wrong with me or you that you did this? Why did you stop? Why couldn't you just kill me?".
She stops hitting me to wring her fingers in my shirt. Why did I do it? Why did I drink that blood? I thought I had done it for tradition, or wisdom, or peace. I have none of that. I turned my pack into a tyranny. I nearly committed two genocides. I made my people fear me. And I shattered my mate. What was it all for?
"I have no reason", I tell her. She stares up at me taking in my words.
"Maybe that's for the best", she says, "I don't think there's anything that could justify you, maybe it best not to try".
She pushes herself off of me, "I will never forgive you but, someday I hope I can look you in the eye and truly feel nothing".
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