Mates (ON HOLD)

13. feeling sorry

A/N: Guys...we're at 2k!

And to show how quality this book is, I've barely edited it. Tell me if you see mistakes, I won't be offended. I won't get super triggered, I'll appreciate it. Thanks for listening to me be a bad editor.

Above is how I feel about the situation.

Well...

Enjoy this (;

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C H A P T E R  T H I R T E E N:
feeling sorry

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M A T C H E S

It was like my world was stuck in a hole of pain and unstoppable sound. Livators father refused to look in my eyes as he tied my arms to the table in the basement.

I heard footsteps everywhere and the clanking of whatever they were planning to do. So many sound of people talking, singing, laughing. Something was burning on a stove and a comedy played on the tv on the third floor. Someone was having really intense sex that I could most definitely hear.

All of it was so loud and my ears burned. Crying out, I pulled at the restraints suddenly, the pain to much for my ears. "Calm down, pup." An old man padded down the steps quietly, flipping through his notepad. "I am Elder Yel and I've heard some things have been happening to you, yes?"

Nodding quickly, I tried to calm down my body that felt like it was going into some sort of overdrive. Everything felt to fast and loud. My skin burned but I was shivering against the silver table.

He chuckled, tapping my shoulder. Hissing, I tried to drag my shoulder away from his hand. He cocked his head, looking down at my shoulder, then noted something on his pad.

Walking around to the other side, he blocked my view of jail cell. A man sat back in it, watching whatever was happening. The walls were all poorly placed stone, looking like it was on its last leg. There were little side tables against one side of the wall next to a sink. Things lay missorted all over the table. The leather around my wrists was old and worn, like a billion other people have been in my position.

"When did these weird things start happening, Mr. Michealson?" He asked, grazing his eyes against all of his notes.

"Two days ago," I breathed, squeezing my my eyes shut.

He nodded, setting his note pad on the tray underneath me. He pulled gloves onto his hands and poked around my mark, memorizing where the lines went. "They're going down your back now, too." He mumbled, pulling at the skin around the yellow covering my mark. "It's not infected, that's for sure."

I cried out, pulling at the restraints. Something was moving in my body, like a snake, pushing my spine in different directions.

Elder Yel backed up, crossing his arms over his chest, watching me arch and pull. "Matches?"

I pushed the pain from my throat so I could speak with him, "Yeah?"

"Are you apart of this pack?" He asked, staying still, perceiving my every move.

Nodding, I grabbed the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white, "Yes, sir."

"Are you a runt?" He asked, pulling the rubber of the gloves from his fingers. My stomach constricted and I opened my mouth in a silent scream. "Matches." He ordered me to speak.