His Wolf

Forty-six

His grip was hard, no doubt bruising the tender, scarred flesh of my neck. He dragged his other hand across the top of my head, burring his fingers into the strands of my hair. His grip on the back of my neck hurt, but his comforting strokes counteracted the pain. He brought his face next to mine, his warm breath fanning my skin. I could smell the sourness of his words as he whispered them into my ear.

"My beautiful pet," he ran his hand down the side of my face, his knucks cold but my body shivered at the comfort it somehow found in the touch, "You have no idea how glad I am to finally have you back."

His fingers came to rest under my chin, gently tilting my face up to meet his. I scrunched my eyes closed, knowing he would be angry if I looked into his soulless eyes. But I could still feel his anger spike, could feel his hand tighten on the back of my neck, his thumb and pointer finger of his other hand squeezing my chin.

"Open them." I didn't want to, I didn't want to see his face in these waking moments ever again. It was bad enough I had to see it in my sleep, "Now." His hand on my chin moved, his rough and callused fingers curling around my jaw harshly. His words where an echo of pain that lived on inside me. They were a reminder of the authority that he held over me, the monstrous things he could do if provoked.

I didn't want to. I really didn't.
But it didn't matter what I wanted. It never did. Especially with him.

So, I opened my eyes, keeping my gaze on the far wall just over his shoulder.

"Good Girl. Now," he crouched down to bring his face to my level, has hand moving and cupping my face, "Let's go back over a few things. Shall we?"

🐺🐺🐺🐺
Austin:

Have you ever believed that you have done nothing but try to be the best you absolutely could? Have you?
Have you pushed through doubt and paranoia in order to see the true picture? Have you ever had battles inside your own head, negative vs positive and yet no matter the amount of effort you put into building that positive wall, all it takes a few negative actions or thoughts to completely crumble it? Anger consumes you. Pain grips your very soul. Sadness tears behind your eye lids, trying to leak through. Yet that pain and sadness begins to fuel the fire to that anger, that hot white rage that burns you to the core. Your fists clench in frustration and all you want to do is hit something, to break it in pieces to take out that pain and sadness, that ragefull anger that came from practically nothing.

And then you feel like a fool once it all passes. Once the positive wall beings to be rebuilt, once the fire is burned out and the frustration fades into the background.

And the cycle continues.

My life was great when my mother was alive. My future bright, with no blot of darkness, but that all changed when my uncle turned feral and killed her.

It all changed.

So many negatives came into my life after that day. So much hate and anger that almost consumed me entirely.

But the small positive thought of helping Lucy is what kept me from falling into that deadly path of darkness that did swallowed my father whole. Every day of helping Lucy get better, every moment when I saw her progress, watched as she began to heal...that wall between the two sides of myself was rebuilt.

But now, seeing bodies of wolfs laying, not just dead, but slaughtered...I couldn't keep that wall up as the two sides clashed against one another.

And I apparently wasn't the only one.

A clawed hand gripped the collar of my shirt, his arm pressing against my neck as he shoved me again the wall. I gritted my teeth at the harsh impact and let my lack of appreciation show with a larg flash of my canines.