Wolves Don't Get Kisses

Chapter Ten.

I was black and blue all over. I didn't have to see it, I felt it. Pulsing pain all over my body, in my mind, and in my heart. I felt his eyes on my battered body and I tried to stop crying but I couldn't. I couldn't stop and I couldn't look at him even when he ordered me to and a sharp pain from my ribs told me if I didn't he would kill me. I wanted to give up and let him. But if there was any chance, any at all that my master was out there looking for me I would take it. I wouldn't make him disappointed in me.

      With that in mind, I forced myself to look up, turning the rusted and broken gears of my head to see his face, though I couldn't really see anything with the tears pouring out of my eyes. He looked down at me and said the order one last time. I knew he would kill me if I didn't this time. With a loud sob and a scream that carried all my dignity on the butchered notes, I did it. I rolled over.

      He smiled and laughed, laughed like he had just won the lottery. "You finally broke," he exclaimed. "You are a tough one, but I broke you. I don't need you put together, that is for someone else to do. Thank you for finally obeying, Pup." His voice sounded soft on that last sentence, like he actually was grateful to me, proud of me even. He picked me up, with me whimpering as the pain went through me in waves, and held me to his chest like a baby. I was so tired, so so tired, and I passed out to the beat of his heart. I was broken.

      I woke up and immediately wish I didn't because everything in my body was broken. My arms, my ribs, my legs, my back, my head. All of it, broken. Or at least that's what it felt like. My body was on something soft, though it confused me because my whole body was laid out and I fit on it perfectly. Even my tail felt broken as I twitched slightly, my ears the only thing that didn't ache entirely when I moved them. They searched for any sound that could tell me where I was, but the ringing silence of my room was familiar. They, whoever they are, must have taken pity on me and gave me a small cushion for my broken body to rest.

      I heard my door squeak and groan, then close. Two metal bowls were placed in front of me. I needed water so bad, and through all of the pain my stomach was growling nonstop. I hadn't eaten barely anything these past four days. They replaced my bowls, even when I didn't eat. I sniffed the air and smelt something I hadn't here before; fresh meat. Maybe they thought I needed something to keep me alive, or maybe they pitied me, but it was enough for me to lift my head at the person who had set the bowls down. It was that young girl, with tears in her wide eyes as she looked down at me. She looked away and quickly shuffled out the door.

      I leaned forward despite the sharp pains in my body and took a bite of the cold but tender meat, almost howling in happiness as the flavor hit my tongue. I tore it apart quite literally, eating every piece of fat and licking up every drop of blood. It was the most delicious thing I had ever had. Maybe that was the famine speaking, but it didn't matter. I was full. I drank all of my water too, a match made in heaven. My body rejuvenated from it all.

      My door opened a second time, which confused me since I had already gotten my meal. I turned my head towards the door to see the man who nearly killed me, looking towards me with eyes full of something like regret, but a thought process of "it had to be done." I looked at him pathetically, not able to be angry, not wanting to. I just couldn't be anything anymore. I was nothing. He walked towards me and crouched to get a closer look at my brokenness. When he reached out his hand, I thought I would pull away. But I simply pushed my head into it desperately, begging for some kind of comfort. A voice that was so prominent just one day ago was now very far away, screaming as loud as it could for me to stop, that this man hurt me and would do it again. But I knew better. I knew I would only be hurt if I misbehaved.

      He rubbed his thumb against my cheek, laying my head gently on his lap. The warmth of his head running through my hair was so nice, so much nicer than the cold of my bruises and the cement floor. How could a man capable of being so cold, be a blanket of security to me? I didn't care. Not anymore. He lifted my head up, looking at it with a bit of sadistic approval. He thought my bruises were pretty. Maybe they were pretty, maybe they were the thing I needed. Maybe this man was what I needed, the right kind of master.

      He slowly laid my head back on the soft cushion under me, then left without a word. That far away voice was getting farther and farther, and the thought of being here didn't seem to be that horrible anymore. Maybe I could be a good pup, I could make this master happy. Maybe master Kira will find another hybrid to love and care for and experiment on. But I won't ever stop waiting, because if he wanted to try and find me, I need to be here for him. Waiting patiently.

A/N
Hi, hope y'all are having a nice time with my story even though my boy Damien isn't. Sorry for the angst uwu