Chapter 1

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TW FOR SLIGHT GORE

~~~

Loud cracks fill the large space, its echoes twisting through the tall, limestone buildings surrounding the market stalls. I look through the swarming crowd of people and see a man tied to the post in the center of the town square. Another public whipping.

"That's the third one this week."

The man on the post writhes in pain, begging for the guard to stop, saliva mixes with the blood trickling out of his mouth. His back was covered in blood, I swore I could see the muscle beneath his skin. I quickly turned to Malcolm, unable to withstand the gruesome horror, "Why have there been so many?"

He shrugs slightly, jaw clenched and rage hidden beneath his hazel eyes, "We're getting hungrier by the day. Noticeably less rations are going around, we've been getting lucky with our portions. How can we be expected to work when we can't even stand. I mean...it only makes sense people would start to—"

"Steal," I cut in.

"Yeah." He adds quietly.

The man's screams and pleads don't falter. It's hard to believe that Malcolm and I are getting lucky with our rations when we barely get two cans of food a day. A man who looks to be in his thirties turns to Malcolm and I, "I heard his wife was taken by a wolf, he tried to fight back against him when he took her," he whispers. He jerks his head to the bloody man, "and that's why he's being put on the post." The square was loud enough combined with the mans' screams that we weren't worried about the wolves listening in on us with their heightened hearing.

"Taken? But, why?" I whisper back to the man. Why would a wolf take a human girl? Unless...

"She was his mate."

My eyes widen and I let out a small gasp, Malcolm cuts in, "the hell? How rare is that, the last time that's happened was, well...I can't remember when."

"Me neither," I add, looking up towards him.

"Rare, but not impossible." The man whispers back.

Malcolm and I stay quiet for a moment, taking in what the man just said. Malcolm breaks the silence, "Poor guy."

"Poor girl," I say back to him. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's horrible what they're doing to him," I refer to the man on the post, "but, I can't imagine what she's going through right now. I'd rather endure 100 beatings on the post instead of being the 'mate' to a wolf." Malcolm stares silently at the bloodied man with his brows furrowed, and hands balled into fists.

Tension rolled off of everyone in waves, from staring at the macabre sight before us. We were mad. I look back to the post. His back is torn to pieces, I'm surprised he isn't unconscious by now. And the guards look happy. Smiling and laughing at this man's misery. Wolves are sick, twisted beasts. Moments like these make it hard to imagine a time where humans once ruled over the world. I almost don't believe it at all.

The man's cries start to die down, losing the fire that fueled his rage and screams from before, his body no longer reacting to each slash of the whip. The blood-saliva mixture flies into the air as he spits out, "Maisy! Give my Maisy back! P-Please!" The slashes become harder and his gut-wrenching cries become quieter. The sight of him crying out for his wife makes my heart ache and stomach curl. I shake my head looking back to Malcolm, "I can't watch this anymore."

Malcolm nods back to me, "Let's get out of here."

He takes my hand and we head home.

~~~

'Home' is a single room in a dingy building with hundreds of other humans. In our apartment we have a sink, stove, a couple cabinets, dresser, and a single mattress lying on the concrete floor in the corner, which was a pain to buy. In the adjacent corner, there is a small, sectioned off space for the tub and toilet. I really didn't have anything, aside from a few trinkets I've collected throughout the years. No photos of my family, no mementos, no stuffed animals. I had a stuffed bunny when I was younger, it was white. Well, it would've been white if it wasn't stained a dirty gray. I lost my bunny the night I lost my parents. They're probably dead. I would be sad if I had the time to.

I do have Malcolm. I don't think I would care to live if I didn't have him. He found me in an alley half-dead when we were kids. When he took me to his family, they kicked him out. I don't blame them. How would they help me? Who would take in a stranger that would be another mouth to feed? I wouldn't. Malcolm would.

Since then we have been fending for ourselves in the Sapient District. We both found work, an apartment to share. We barely see each other, but we make it work.

"Mal?" I looked over to him while lying on the bed with my head propped up on my hand.

"Yeah? Odette, my darling," he coos as he walks over to me, earning a small giggle and a shy grin from me. He moves to lie down next to me, with his slightly overgrown, messy dark blonde hair covering parts of his face.

"I can't wait for tomorrow. It took so long to save enough," I say just above a whisper. Normally we would work 6 days a week, all day, just to earn our share of rations and accommodation. Malcolm works in the field breaking up concrete and coal by pickaxe, while I worked for the textile factory. It was hard work, but I preferred it to most of the jobs in our district. The textile factory's workers were mostly made up of women, which put me and Malcolm at ease. We only had to worry about the occasional wolf overseer or guard who would check up on us. Malcolm had it rough. He spent hours in the unforgiving weather, tiring out himself from the taxing work. We both worked extra, beyond our required hours to save up enough money. We both lie on our sides, facing one another. My grin fades and my tone turns to a more serious note. "I know that we both worked so much and that we already made the appointment, but if you don't want to do it I understan—"

He cuts me off, "Odette, stop." He puts his hand on my cheek, cupping my face. "We worked so much and it's worth it." He stresses his words, affirming his decision. His eyes burn into mine, determination written on his features. "I don't want to use that money for anything else. I don't care if it's just a title. I want us to go to the courthouse," he trails on, moving his hands to hold mine, "and be officially married." There was so much passion and feeling beneath his words. The man in front of me was the most selfless, kind person I've ever known. He didn't care that he sacrificed so much time to save up the money. He just wanted to be able to call me his wife, and no amount of money would stop him from doing so.

I looked up at him, my vision suddenly became blurry, my lower lip trembling slightly. I squeeze his hands tighter, "I swear I'm not sad, I'm sorry I'm crying," I say slightly laughing out the words. I wipe the tears from my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat. "I'm just so incredibly happy," I whisper. His bright hazel green eyes looked at me with so much love and a smile played at his lips. Malcolm pressed his lips into mine softly. Then he kissed my cheek and pulled me into him. His kisses were sweet. Like chocolate. I fell asleep in his arms, dreaming of how perfect tomorrow will be. The beginning of our new lives.

~~~

Dear Readers, 

Thank you for taking the time to read my story! Please feel free to give me feedback and tips to improve my story. Constructive criticism is welcome. 

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