The Alpha's Slut (#Wattys2016)

8~Never Wake

   I screamed as the fire of the pain raced through my body, claiming everything for it's own. Even the cold numbness couldn't stop my pain. I writhed in my wolf form, still bleeding out from my shoulder, while I couldn't move because of my broken paw. I knew they could hear me screaming, but they just didn't care. Where was Logan? Where was Rae and Peter? Where was my mate? 

   My wolf spoke for the first time since we saw my mate the first time. 'Mate is gone, Mate will not come.' She whimpered. 

   I closed my eyes and allowed the darkness to take care of me. During the next few days I drifted in and out of unconsciousness. No one came for me. It was just an endless cycle of pain and darkness. I took a ragged breath and struggled to comprehend why my shoulder hadn't healed. Why was everything so magnified and painful?

   Only one thing could cause this. 'Silver' my wolf groaned out. Of course, Astrid's claws had been laced with silver. I laughed out. Her first act of revenge.

   I trembled as it overcame my body and struggled to get up. The cold had made my lower half temporarily paralyzed. I shook and begged my wolf for help. The silver was currently boiling a fiery path through my blood, reversing the effects of the snow. I screamed when I shifted back into my skins, curling into a ball as my bones cracked and shifted to accommodate my wounds. I crawled through the snow, shivering as the snow pressed into my nude form. A werewolves' clothes always shredded when they shifted. Shame, it was a nice dress.

   I crawled halfway to the packhouse before collapsing and gritted my teeth from the unbearable pain. I shuddered as the silver stared to take over my upper half. I felt the unbearable huger clawing my throat, begging for relief. I collapsed in the snow because my thought would drift to him, always to him. 

~

   There is a special kind of comfort in being dead. Knowing that nothing can hurt you anymore, and all the pain was gone. But somehow I knew I wasn't dead. I had seen wolves get their neck snapped and still survive. Then again, I was clawed with silver, but probably not enough to kill me.

   As much as Astrid had changed from a meek little girl to a fighter, I knew she would create her own kind of hell for me. The kind that you don't come back from, just like I did to her. 

   For now it was all just endless floating until I finally woke up from this peace. The sad thing was I didn't want to. I wanted to not have to care about anything. I wanted to never wake. There was no one waiting for me. My mate did not love me. Logan felt some sort of twisted pity, but he had his mate, he would be fine. Astrid wanted me dead, along with probably her parents Rae and Peter. Never our parents, never mine. It was a known fact that Araceli didn't simply have parents. 

   I had survived life because I fought tooth and claw for my position and everything I had. Astrid was always handed everything by the grown-ups on a silver platter. The younger wolves got tired of it and banded together to make her life a living hell. It had easily turned on me. 

   So, with the thought of never being loved, I drifted along in my mind, searching for a memory of being loved to relive. I found one sole memory that didn't even count. I found the memory of when my mate came to my room and made me feel like nothing could hurt me, like nothing could hurt us. It was me who had rotted the mate bond between us. So, I was okay with never waking, so long as I died soon.