Control (Dark Romance)

Chapter 32

DOUBLE UPDATEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HERE ARE TWO BRAND NEW EXTRA SPECIAL CHAPTERS OF CONTROL JUST FOR YOU GUYS!!! IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING AND IT'S A THANK YOU FROM ME, FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!!

Good things come to those who wait 

ENJOYYYYYY AND COMMENT!!!

------------

Nikola's POV

Pressure was a simple concept. There was mass and force, and usually an object. As force was applied to that object, pressure was created.

More force, more pressure.

In this universe, as pressure grew on an object, eventually, that object began to strain— its composition giving way. A crack. A tear. A shattering. It didn't matter how, all that mattered was that the object broke under the pressure.

Since the moment Hagen and I had met, or rather become conscious of one another and the bonds between us, there had been a pressure— the result of an uncontrollable force applied to both of us. And eventually, like all objects in this realm, the strain got too much for me and well, I'd... torn.

I'd always thought that once it happened— if I ever dared to tear— that would be the end of Hagen and I. Hagen would not yield under the pressure of staying together as mates because he was stronger than me, and he had always been. But that wasn't what happened. In reality, he'd given in, yielded to it to preserve our bond.

Now, the pressure was gone, and we were left with something entirely new, entirely foreign, because for the first time in our lives, there was no pressure on our bond.

--

I was not watching him.

I almost had many times and I wanted to, but I was not watching him. But I wanted to. I could admit that in the quiet of my mind that only Neo had privy to, but I hadn't done it yet.

I was observing him, but that was different.

To watch Hagen has always required a spell, and what was happening now was from no pre-emptive measure of mine. I didn't need to do anything when there was a link and a bond between us, and developed ones at that. Even with the distance between us and the muddled mix of rage, need and longing, those channels conveyed more than enough intel about him with me.

Hagen was still angry— angrier in fact, and that anger grew with each passing day. It was violent and claiming, vengeful too, and every time it engulfed him, I felt a shudder of something cold, like death over my bones.

It made it hard to breathe sometimes. It made it even harder to face myself in the mirror.

It was also what drove him to drink so excessively that my magic flared in a near-constant buzz. The protection spell over him did its job of driving the liquor from his system when it began creeping towards alcohol poisoning, but a werewolf could consume a considerable amount before they reached that stage. And so, Hagen drank, and drank, until our bond was at points too blurred for even me to comprehend.

Then, there was his pain. I wasn't the only one seized by it, day and night. Hagen was too. Hagen was hurt because I'd hurt him.

I hurt him.

"Get out!"

I rub a hand over my chest, trying to ease the ache in my heart that sparked incessantly now, but it does nothing. But of course not, the only thing that would ease this torment was Hagen himself, and that was not happening any time soon. So there was this new pain to live with.