Savage (Prime Collage)

Part 5

Apollo

one week later

I'm hanging by a freaking thread, barely holding my shit together after that goddamn full moon. Patience? What patience? It's as thin as a paperclip, and I swear, I'm on the verge of losing my damn mind. It's been a hot minute since I last went through this rut cycle crap, and let me tell you, it hit me like a freaking sledgehammer.

Supposed to be the heir to a damn alpha pack, but right now, I feel like a total clusterfuck. The constant tug-of-war between my human side and the damn animal inside me is driving me batshit crazy. And let's not even get started on the dumpster fire that is my love life. Ever since that omega, Sam, walked into the picture, it's been one giant freaking mess. Carnage—the beast lurking within—wants nothing to do with it, and the whole mating idea? Yeah, it's about as appealing as a root canal without anesthesia.

Saint, our fearless leader, seemed to have a hunch that something was off with me. He came prepared with chains and suppressants, like he knew shit was about to hit the fan. I don't know how or why, but damn, it saved a whole lot of people from being on the receiving end of my raging carnage. These past couple of years, every full moon has been the same old song and dance—me running wild with the wolf shifters in my wolf form and letting Carnage off the damn leash. But this one? This one was unexpected.

Before midnight even cast its shadow, my wolf seized control, streaking across the college campus like a rabid beast. Saint, ever the quick thinker, managed to wrestle my unruly wolf to the ground and chain him up in the basement. None of us saw this rut coming, especially not me. My wolf went berserk, lost in a crimson haze that I can barely recall. They thought bringing in an omega might soothe the savage beast, but before I could even blink, Carnage tore into that poor omega's throat like it was nothing. Carnage is a monster on a regular full moon, but during rut? He's pure, unadulterated chaos.

There was no containing him, no calming him down. They pumped my veins full of suppressants, desperate to keep him in check and prevent any chance of escape. But through the haze of my own confusion, one thing became painfully clear—my wolf had fixated on a target. Those haunting light pinkish eyes burned in his mind, a beacon in the storm of his madness. And as my consciousness slipped away, I couldn't decipher what my instincts were trying to convey, because soon after, my wolf fell silent, a punishment perhaps for denying him his freedom on the full moon.

In the days following the full moon, I found myself holed up in the private library, combing through every dusty tome and ancient scroll in search of answers. My logical mind rebels against the treacherous thoughts swirling in my head. Everything I've learned from history tells me this is unprecedented, unheard of. Yet, despite my efforts, the pages reveal nothing but the same old mundane crap.

My last resort, as always, is Saint Void. If anyone can shed light on this mysterious phenomenon, it's him. And so, I find myself in his private quarters, waiting for him to grace me with his wisdom. I can't help but feel like a fish out of water in his opulent abode.

Coming from a wealthy family myself, I'm accustomed to luxury, but every detail of this place screams masterpiece, priceless artifacts adorning every corner.

Like the prince he is, Saint occupies his own private mini-mansion, once reserved for influential guests and generous donors. The interior design has undergone a dramatic transformation under his reign. Gone are the trappings of old money and light hues; instead, the space now exudes a luxurious modernity with its dominant black and grey tones, punctuated by hints of white or silver. It's a design perfectly suited to him, reflecting his enigmatic persona and penchant for the darker side of life.

And then, I hear three pairs of footsteps approaching. There he is, Saint himself, accompanied by his butler, Adam, and his best friend, Kaelen Darkheart.