Chapter Twenty

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EDITED-ISH...NOT REALLY

The crunching of patrolling wolves footsteps woke her, Lym immediately settled in a bad mood. Her nightmare had been anything but a pleasant reminder of her first true beating.


She remembered that she had been with Gael for about a year when it started, before he was just getting her to trust him and relax around them. Mainly he taught her how to be obedient and submissive to him and only him, he'd take away food rations if she didn't obey, but she learned to live with it. The beatings changed the playing field, though.

Lym lost a piece of herself that day only to be replaced by a burning rage that she hid well, her wolf truly started to speak to her that night after she was bruised and battered, her skin raw and barely clinging on her back from the whipping. She wasn't even able to lay on her stomach, the bruising there was black and blue. Never did she understand why they did it, nor did she want to know, but the lashes on her back would forever haunt her, she was ashamed of it. She was ashamed that she wasn't able to protect herself, but she wasn't afraid of people seeing them, most wouldn't comment on it anyways.

With a long exhale, she climbed to her feet, not missing the way blue eyes followed her through the tall grass. The swirls of brown and red strode through the trees, never completely coming into view, but kept in tune with Lym. She, of course, ignored his prying eyes and continued to walk around the clearing aimlessly, lost in thoughts purely about nothing.

                  It wasn't until he stepped out that she actually paid him any attention, she lifted her scarred brow, the cut corner seemed as if it was a wing. She gave him a 'what' look, not wanting any of his attention on her, she'd rather lay low in some dark corner and observe than be in center of things unless it was a good fight. He cocked his head to the right and opened his mouth, his pink tongue lolled out, giving him a playful look if you over look that he was a five foot plus wolf that was closer to six feet on the scale.

                Giving him a blank stare, she turned and walked off, the need for water hit her hard and fast, licking her lips she headed towards the creek. She cared nothing for tap water, it tasted stale and filtered, unnatural. As she went she was struck with a sudden thought.

Omega.

Devereux Cuthe.

              There was something about that name that sparked an unknown emotion in her. She wanted to know more about this Omega, to know that there was someone like you out there, someone who understood that the darkness which ate away at her, and not able to contact them, it was an extra burden on shoulders. And all because of her mate, who wouldn't let her go see the wolf, but what he didn't know was that she wasn't controlled by a single soul, and he had yet to truly understand that.

           Maybe it was the thought of not being alone that intrigued her. She knew that by choice she separated herself from society, but it was only because they wouldn't understand what it was like. Her mate would just try to fix her, the thing was, though, she didn't want to be fixed. She wanted to be understood, and if she had someone to relate to, then maybe, just maybe, she could open herself up to her mate. She could feel his desires, his yearning to love her truly and deeply, she wanted to give him that, but now just wasn't the right time.

               A gentle nudge to her side shook her back into reality, she eyed her russet colored mate beside her with disdain and snapped at him. Swishing her hair over her shoulder, she jogged off with her head held high towards the creek. She breathed in the fresh watery scent as she drew closer, excitement bustled inside her, she had always enjoyed the feeling of cool water threading and weaving through her long coat. It calmed her greatly which was a great contradiction to most werewolves who actually feared the blue liquid, many were afraid of drowning, their mass didn't work with water, causing them to sink. The few wolves that were on the leaner side could swim, though very few even tried.

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