Chapter 23

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Damien's journal:

25th March

With immense grieve, I report the death of my grandfather. His demise at the hands of no other but my own cruel, pain imputative father. In the public eye, this had been labelled with 'old age' which I find rather perplexing for wolves of such power tend to lead elongated lives.

But of course, no one dared to question the cruel Xerxes's authority. Despite the unbelievable claim, his wrath was not one any wolf chose to face, even members of the council overlooked this and therefore his questionable death remained so.

My grandfather was one of the very few individuals who cared for me, he was there for me from school parents evenings to the first time I turned into my wolf.

The night of my hell-bent rage, my father had changed. He began to be more attentive to me, encouraging my abilities, empowering me with anger. My grandfather and Victoria saw the wrong in this, the only difference between the two is that he voiced his thoughts, now he's laying 5ft under dirt.

Ever since, my father has been mechanically training me; the daily lessons I endure leave me with sleepless nights- hence no relapses with rouges. However, I am I'm fact grateful for this. Still unable to control my emotions, I am fragile. Not in the sense of being frail and weak, but in the sense of, one wrong step and mass destruction.

Victoria has been very supportive throughout this, she has stood by my side, calming me on my worst days. In a sense, she's like a mother I could only dream to have. I don't know where I would be with my father without her, she has kept my anger affiliating to him keeping me from acting out irrationally.

Moreover, there has been plenty of 'talk' between the Alphas who fear this. Rumours have scattered across the four corners of the wolf kingdom about the malicious Alpha Xerxes's intentions, training his son into a lethal weapon which has only left a target on my back, along with the few individuals that I care for. In other words, I don't know what I would do with myself if Victoria were to meet the same fate as my grandfather. Every living specimen on earth itself would be an unfortunate victim to my explosive fragility.

Lolita clasped the small book shut. Damien had suffered through many tragedies at such a young age. The bitter words from the text swam lapse in her mind. How can a man kill his own father? Lolita thought back to her grandparents, although the girl did not have such a bond with either, the thought of losing them in such a manner caused a shiver to run down her spine.

A father who programmed his son to be a war machine was despicable. Despite everything Lolita's father had done, in his own twisted way, his intentions were pure, merely to protect her. Lolita pulled the blanket Christian had given her higher up to control her shaking, using the source of warmth as a shield from all that is wrong with the world.

~~

"Is she awake?" A faint feminine voice whispered.

"Give her some space, Vivian" Christian snapped as Lolita's eyes flickered open. Above her, stood a tall, slender girl, no older than herself, her raven black hair falling in wavy curls just above her hips, sapphire eye's lighting up.

"Hi, I'm Vivian, that dork's sister" The bubbly teen eagerly rambled.

"Hello, I'm-"

"Lolita! I already know." Vivian interjected, pulling Lolita into a bone-crushing hug. "It's so nice to finally have another girl here, it gets awfully lonely but I have a feeling we're going to get along splendidly" The overwhelmed girl spread her mouth into a smile while Christian began tugging at his sister's arm.

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