Broken Blades

FIVE

Trigger Warning:

------

S U M M E R

I stare at the bottle in my hand wondering if a quick sip will take me out of my misery. Will there be any pain? Will I feel any agony? Most importantly, will he feel any remorse? Will he regret killing our innocent child?

It has only been two days since I lost my baby. I had not visited the doctor after Logan made sure to lock me in the room, only the letting the cooks bringing me food. My scars were already healing after his brutal attacks. The deeply intricate emotional scars on the other hand were stuck on repeat in my head. I knew he already came up with an enticing tale on my unavailability like all the other times he has fabricated stories when I failed to heal fast enough. I had thought so many times about taking my life. The thoughts had stuck to my mind, reminding me I had nothing left. I had no family and the few friends I had would eventually move on when I'm gone.

The joy of having a baby had been squashed; completely trampled on by the man that was supposed to love and guard it. The thought of escaping and moving to another pack sounded less appealing now. I had pictured it all until it dawned on me that I could never truly escape. A pack's Luna's scent is exclusive only to them. Packs hated feuds and the moment I'm gone, I'll be returned to that monster. Back to the utter chaos that is my life and to the complete excuse of a mate.  I had nothing left, no parents, no mate, no baby.

Logan's continuous infidelity left me physically, mentally and emotionally drained. Drained in ways I did not know were possible. I could feel his sexual pleasures with the uncountable women he was with, the astounding pain always gripping my stomach and the flashes of his body entangled with a strange woman in my head.

When he had shown up after ripping the life from my baby, he had demanded I clean up the pool of blood in his room before anyone could scent it. The blood that had been our baby's. I was appalled, shocked and completed stupefied at how nonchalant he was. I was cleaning our baby's blood.

"No one is going to save you, Summer. You are stuck with me until I have no use for you." He had emphasized those words as he chuckled, exiting the room.

I had never hated Logan before. A part of me had always hoped that he would change, that one day he'd love me and maybe I'd be able to forgive his cruel deeds, his demeaning words, his harsh treatment. That maybe one day he'd view me as his equal, his mate. At one point, I had even deluded myself into imagining he'd grovel at my feet, beg me to take him back and I would forgive him.

It had not happened.

It would never happen.

That version of him only existed in my head. He was a creation of a naive woman hoping for a non-existent fairytale. Just a figment of my imagination. A conjuration of a desperate woman hoping for love from her soulmate.

To say I hated him now would be a complete understatement. I loathed his existence, I hated who he is, I hated everything that makes him, him.

My grip tightens on the bottle as I stare at the purple liquid, wondering what Logan will do when he finds my corpse. Would he care for the first time in his pathetic life?

I already knew my answer. He will not care. He will feel the breaking of our supposed 'bond' but nothing. He will not be concerned that I was gone. He'd pretend that he cared and then he'd have a new woman in my place. A woman he'd treat the exact, if not worse, way. I no longer desired his love. I no longer desired anything he has to offer.