Chapter 15: Unleashed

I wake up face down on the floor in a heap, my arm draped awkwardly over my head and my limbs splayed out on the hardwood. I am disoriented, choking on my own blood, and gagging on bile. Gathering my wits and trying to get my bearings, I struggle to move, dazed for a moment; then I remember where I am and what he is doing to me. It comes back like a rush of water flowing into a dry riverbed when the dam is breached.

That surge of furious self-preservation provides instant awareness as the room registers in my mind. I jump up, my heart tearing through my chest with elevated thuds. My claws appear, and my mind is a burning mess of madness, ready to take him on in a battle to the death, fueled by something inside of me that I never knew I possessed.

I feel like my hatred could melt steel, with the heat radiating from my fiery depths, and I spin hysterically, ready to demolish my attacker. My body is mid-turn, moving at furious speed, when I realize he is on the other side of the room, looking at me as if I have two heads. He is a good twelve feet away at the least, crouching down and panting heavily, as though he, too, is recovering.

"Woah, woah! Lorey, calm down, I didn't do anything. Stop and breathe. Take a moment before you start again!" He jumps to his feet, hyper-aware of my sudden rise. His palms are up, facing me, held flat out. He is completely naked, as am I, which only pushes me to heights of venomous hatred.

My claws fully extend, as do my teeth, and my body shudders as it begins to transform, ready to fight him and maim him until this pain inside my heart starts to ebb. I am crushed inside, as though my soul is ripped to shreds and hanging around my organs like unwanted trash on the wind. I have never felt this much aggression or bloodlust, and I have him fully in my sights. My body is tingling all over; even though I have no memory of what he put me through, I know enough to understand what he intended.

“What did you do to me? Why would you do that to me?” I scream at him, my voice pitched in raw, raspy hysteria, but he raises his hands higher and pleads with me mentally. His eyes are softening, with no attempt to transform, as he watches me from a distance.

Please stop and listen. Let me explain. I haven't, and wouldn't, do that to you,

he coaxes gently.

You raped me!!

I mentally scream back at him, no longer seeing anything around me, just the pulsing beat of the vein in his throat as I hone in, knowing exactly where I’ll be aiming with my takedown bite. I don't care if it ends us both; I'll kill him for defiling me, destroying my trust in him, and ravaging my heart and soul this way.

He shakes his head, looking completely devastated and disheveled. He is radiating so many emotions my way, but I battle them back, like bouncing tennis balls off a glass wall.

NO, I did not! I never intended to either. Lorey, please, sit... I'll stay here, you stay there, and just let me talk. I need you to calm down and listen. Think. Remember.

I am breathing so heavily that my chest is heaving, and I can't calm down—especially not when he is telling me to. He has no right. He can't be serious with this after what he just did. He broke the trust, he broke us, he ruined the bond, and nothing will fix that.

My body is on fire, my blood like molten lava in my veins, and I can already tell I have shifted enough to heal the marks he made, because there is no pain—only dried blood. In fact, my complete lack of injury or any sort of physical hurt tells me I have already turned, but I don't know how that is possible if I was unconscious. I shake the thought away and glare hatefully, focusing all my rage on his face.

I hate him so much I can almost taste it. I will never let him touch me again or come near me. I'll rip his throat out if he tries. He is disgusting and vile to me now, and not who I thought he was. An abuser, unworthy as a leader, not worthy as a mate, not as an Alpha, and not as a lycanthrope.

“What did you do? Stop lying!” It's a hiss through a sob, a heartbreaking wail of betrayal, a howl from my wounded wolf, and I am completely desolate. I don't believe him, because I don't know the truth. I blacked out while he was on top of me, doing things... he had no intention of stopping. He said it... He commanded me. He tried to immobilize me so he could finish the deed.

“I had to make you snap. I told you that's what I intended. And you did. It worked... You're amazing... your gift, baby, it's fucking perfect.” There is a moment of joy followed by a frown as he realizes I am not sharing in his celebration or relaxing my stance. Instead, I blanch at him in stupefied silence. My brain is having a moment; I literally think he might be some kind of sociopath in denial about what he just did—or tried to do.

“What are you talking about? I blacked out! How would I fucking do anything except lay there and succumb?” I let out another sobbing wail. Colton’s face drops, obvious regret written all over him, and an overpowering sense of pain washes my way. I can feel him trying to tell me this isn't how it seems by using his emotion instead of words. I am weakening as the adrenaline wanes, but I won't relent, and I try hard to wall myself off once more to keep him out.

“The human in you zoned out, not the wolf. You lost control, and you turned; you disabled me completely. You threw me across the room with a strength I couldn't match. You came at me... I swear, you had me running around this room just to stop you from tearing me limb from limb. You had complete, direct focus and didn't take out the house in the aftermath, so you're learning to focus it... Lorey, you had me, and I honestly don't think I'd still be here if your energy levels hadn't gone down before I did.”

Again, there is that hint of pride and joy, but my death glare and crouch-to-pounce stance have him hurrying the words out, realizing he isn't calming me one ounce. I can smell a hint of slight fear coming my way, and it only fuels my desire to make him pay.

“You pushed all of your rage into my body, and if I wasn't half-turned and healing fast, you would have killed me. Do you understand? Blindsided and feral, you would have ended us both... easily. You got into my head in ways I don’t think any wolf has ever been capable, and you commanded me to stay down and stop. I couldn't move. You Alpha-toned me. You took my strength, my command, and you turned it into a weapon. Baby, don't you see? You've barely grazed the surface of what you can do, and yet you have so much power and potential already. There's a sea of something inside of you, and your eyes—we still need to figure out why they're red. You're not a Reject; you're not even a regular pack wolf. You're special, and now we know for sure we can harness it, nurture it, bring it out, so you can control it and show all of them who you really are... There's a Luna inside of you, and the Fates gave you to me for that reason. My father can't deny you if he can see this kind of power in you.”

Colton moves slightly forward, breathless, still wary, his hands still up, his eyes locked on mine. But the trust is wounded, and I back away, snarling at him, baring my teeth as I flicker from human to wolf again slowly. I am panting with shallow breaths, my heart pounding faster, rage and fear clawing me apart.

I am afraid, and I don't believe anything he's saying, even if a logical pull is tugging from the recesses of my mind. He stops, looks utterly hopeless, and drops his eyes to the floor.

“I know how it looks. I had to make you fight back, and I knew that was a surefire way. I had to see. This changes things, Lorey, can't you understand? Our packs are verging on a war where, more than ever, my mate has to be capable of standing by my side and fighting. You can absorb my gifts, which means you can absorb any that you come up against, turn them into something more powerful, and use them with control. You were right when you said I made a choice, and I did... but this is how we change it. My father has to see that you're not a black mark on our people if the Fates gave you a gift like this. There's hope that I can have them accept you into the pack and lay claim to what the Fates ordained. You as my mate... as we always should have been...”

The muscle twitch in his jaw and the flicker of his eyes as he begs me to believe have me spiraling. I shake my head at him, so consumed with mistrust, my mind a flurry of conflicting emotions, backing into a corner until I hit the edge of the bed. It startles me, and I seem to snap out of my intense focus on him and look around for the first time, really seeing the room.

It is complete devastation—something worse than the carnage at the orphanage. I gasp as my eyes follow the gouges and claw marks running not just across the floor and walls, but the ceilings, too. There has been an epic battle in this room.

Furniture is splayed or tipped over, trashed, or just balancing precariously. The pictures on the wall are either smashed to the floor or hanging lopsided, some clawed through where they hang. Everything is destroyed. All the bed sheets are strewn across the floor, most ripped and gashed, with feathers floating in the air from cushions that no longer exist. I crouch quickly to grab the nearest sheet to wrap around myself, concealing my body fast.

“There's one problem with that little ‘hope’... I don't want you to ever touch me again.” I snarl out, penetrating him with my glare, a second wave of anger rising even though I'm beginning to see that maybe, partially, he isn't lying to me. He still made me believe he would hurt me; he scared me, and I can't be sure he would have stopped. For those few seconds of panic before I blacked out, I was utterly afraid of him. You never do that to your bond.

“You're upset and angry with me. Baby, I would never do that, I swear on the bloodline of my pack. It was killing me to push you that far, and I almost gave in because I couldn't stomach hurting you like that. I had to see; I had to force your hand, and now look at you... standing there, poised for a second round like a seasoned warrior. You weren't that girl yesterday... You're changing. Coming into your true form and adapting as you do.”

He looks almost proud, and it tears through me, igniting the wrong bomb.

"Changing??? I'm FUCKING furious with you!! I'm REACTING, because you're a sick, twisted bastard who laid his goddamn hands on me in the worst kind of way. I can't ever know for sure if you would have stopped. I only have your words! And nothing you say means shit to me now.”

I scream it at him, not caring if everyone in this house hears me blow a fuse and go nuclear. What he’s done is unforgivable. If we weren't so far at this side of the house, I'm sure a dozen Santos would have been in here already to see what the chaos and noise from this battle zone was all about.

“You can trust me; I would never do anything to hurt you that way.” Colton goes for endearing and submissively calm. It's the wrong thing to say entirely, and I'm already volcanic. He just makes me erupt.

“TRUST?! Like I trusted the Santos to take care of their own when our people didn’t come home! Like I trusted you to stand for me and honor our bond when we were imprinted... Like I trusted you to be alone with me in a fucking bedroom and not try to defile my body! Trust, Colton? You've denied me, let me down more than once in our lifetime; you fall at every hurdle the second Daddy says ‘NO.’ Maybe Carmen has the right idea and you're not someone I should ever trust. Look at how you discard women and pick them up as you fancy. You're weak, you're no Alpha. Always in your father's shadow. You are the last wolf I would ever trust or choose to bond myself to. Not after this!!!”

My words hit him hard, and his face closes up. The muscles in his jaw tense as his eyes dart to the floor, trying to conceal the wounds I just inflicted upon his heart, but I don't care. He has never done anything to prove to me I can trust him, and imprinting, stupidly, made me think I could. You don't insult a male's pride and ego, definitely not his strength. Especially not an Alpha, but Colton has not been a man for me; he's been a boy doing what he’s told and denying what the Fates asked of him.

“Carmen slept with someone else, one of my own brothers of Santo. She said it was in heartbreak and anger, to make me feel the pain I inflicted on her. So no, I didn't just discard her... I had to swallow all of that and stick to my commitment. I made my choice, but she kept using us as a reason to punish me while conveniently forgetting her sins. Her jealousy and mistrust are her guilt. The imprinting didn’t make me indifferent to her... she did. She wasn't fighting the bond or the lure of the Fates as I was; she was trying to wound me, and that, Lorey, is something you never do to a mate. That's why I can't feel anything for her anymore. It's why we're not dating. After the forest, I found out, and since then I haven't been able to feel anything but disdain for her.”

His pained, low-toned words silence me and my anger momentarily. I wasn't expecting that, nor the knowledge that a femme would betray a mate with his own pack brother. That's all kinds of messed up, and I can't believe he is only telling me now. Even if his heart was no longer invested, an Alpha's pride and ego would have been crushed to have been played like that. His respect in the pack will be dented, especially if he never took any act of revenge on his pack brother to balance the scales. By Lycanthrope law, he should have publicly shamed her and punished his pack brother. Instead, he was still trying to fix everything.

With my rage fizzing out and my logical brain easing in to calm my impulse to wreak havoc, I slump down onto the floor, completely exhausted, and pull my ripped sheets around me in a bid to self-console. My head is a blur of what he just said, and I feel some weird sympathy for him, even if I should still be hating his very bones.

"Show me... prove it... that you never..." I can't look at him. The storm has blown out of my sails and I'm tired, but he knows what I'm asking, and he cautiously walks toward me. He moves slowly and surely, keeping his eyes on me as though he expects me to turn and go for him at any second. I can sense his apprehension, and that gives me a hint that maybe some of what he said was the truth. Something made him afraid; something happened between us, and he is taut and ready to defend himself if needs be.

He reaches out when he gets close enough and touches his fingers to my temple, so gently it's barely a graze, as he slides down to his knees. He brings his mind to mine and projects the memory I am missing. I close my eyes and let it flood my mind.

It's as he says. After I blacked out, there was a moment of pause where he stopped, pulled my face to him from the cushions, and looked over me, aware I was no longer responding. His voice was laced with concern as he asked if I was okay and tried to rouse me. He was genuinely afraid he had hurt me or pushed me too far, and that maybe he had stopped me from being able to get air. He turned me over carefully, checked my breathing, leaned in, and tried to stroke my face to wake me, saying my name softly. It’s like I stopped and became vacant, and there were long seconds of silence from me. He released his hold on me, panic rising inside him, afraid he had done something to me; he checked my pulse, stroked my face again, and tried to shake me, whispering my name. He didn't do anything more to hurt me, just tried to bring me 'round. When it looked like he started moving to pull me up to sit, drenched in his concern, I completely exploded, transforming in a blink, like he woke the dormant beast.

My wolf form seemed to combust from thin air, my eyes snapped open, burning red with the rage of Lucifer, and then all hell broke loose. Just like he said it did. I was in it for his blood. Relentless, and I don't recognize myself in the memory.

I cringe as the images show me wounding him in ways an average wolf would never have healed from. I was on him, after him, rolling around as he tried to battle me off without actually trying to hurt me. I bit him, clawed him, and savagely ripped at him, over and over. I wouldn't relent, and he was right. His power was no match for mine. He had to heal as fast as I inflicted savagery just to stay breathing, and I was a tornado of hatred who was not willing to stop. I delivered a thundering blow, eliciting a yelp from him so high-pitched it hurts even in the memory; my ears wince at the sound.

My claws embedded in his chest, an inch from his heart, which I guess is where I was aiming before my wolf gave up. Unable to stay in form when it's still so new for me and takes so much stamina, I slumped onto the floor, all ability zapped out as I transformed back into a girl, passing out in a careless huddle.

Colton crawled from under me, sliding his torn body, yanking my talons from his chest, bleeding out and groaning as he struggled to the wall to turn and save himself. That's where my memory rejoins what I woke up to.

I have no words. When he lets me go and sits back on his haunches, I can feel the relief swarming my way; he knows I can't deny what I saw. We can't twist the memories or alter them; he didn't lie to me at all. I saw for myself that what he said was true. I sit in stunned silence and let it sink in, hyper-aware of his presence, sensitive, but emotionally all over the place and unsure how to feel.

“Imagine what you could do when you harness it and are trained to fight.” His words are hushed. His hand comes up to touch my cheek gently, and I flinch away from him. I am still on high alert and wary, but also submerged in shame at what I saw myself do. I didn’t recognize that wolf as any connection to me; she was feral, relentless, and insanely wild. This is why they never allow us to turn if we can't control ourselves.

“I could have killed you. I tried to kill you.” It is uttered in broken shame, my voice shaking and raspy as it all filters through. Steeped in feelings of severe guilt, I can't look at him, but he leans in, slides his hand under my face softly, tilts my chin up, and meets my eyes with his, a smile on that handsome face that shows no anger at what I did.

“The Fates wouldn't give me a mate I can't handle. Besides, if I died, you would have too, and we could have been together in the afterlife to carry on without all this drama.”

That cheeky smirk hits his face, mixed with relief that I'm finally calming down, and a little too cocky that he’s winning me over. I can't help the tiny ghost of a smile that twinges on my own lips, a little annoyed that he always seems to be able to draw me out like this. I have no words, and as I go to say something more, his face falls and that serious tone kicks in, cutting into our conversation hastily.