HIS FORBIDDEN EROSTHAI

~TARIQ~

Dragging my feet to an abrupt stop as I reached the door of the room that held most of my childhood horror, my hand hovered over the knob. It’s been a few months since I last had to come down here and that only means I haven’t done anything to piss off my father in the past few months. But I guess this wasn’t something he was willing to overlook, not if the outcome of what I did had the repercussion of making him look weak. Still, I don’t regret doing what I did and would do it again without a second thought.

An Alpha like myself shouldn’t even be in this situation; at this age, I shouldn’t have to succumb to his abuse anymore. It’s been ongoing for years, and I could’ve stopped it if I wanted to. My father is known to be the most brutal Alpha Lord in Brașov County, and people who feared him had every reason to.

He is a menace to every pack in the region and an even bigger bone of contention for the Werewolf Alliance due to his refusal to join the federation. However, that wasn’t my reason for holding back and subjecting myself to his continuous abuse. We both know if I wanted him dead and gone, I would do it in a heartbeat, but eliminating my father would be the least of my problems afterward. Because his death is bound to unleash an array of enemies on me. Aside from that, he has something dangling over my head. Something he uses to control me and if I want to protect them, then I have to endure his abusive ass until I officially become Alpha Lord.

We weren’t the most powerful pack in Brașov County; that title belongs to the Oak Valley Pack, known to be the most powerful pack in the country, if not the second strongest amongst the packs that made up the Werewolf Alliance. However, if you ask which pack was known to be the most brutal and inhumane, a great number of werewolves in the county and all over Romania would point to our pack, the Shadow Moon Pack.

My great-grandfather and the ones before him earned that title for us. When Father became Alpha Lord, he took the brutality of his ancestors a hundred steps further and solidified our position as public enemy number one to various packs.

The tale of our pack has been told for centuries. The Shadow Moon Pack is the horror in everyone’s story, the nightmare of dreams and the reason most ended up burying their loved ones. I’d be a hypocrite to say I don’t know the story behind our pack’s brutality because it was the first thing my father and grandfather taught me the moment it became apparent to them that I could understand words.

I knew the history behind our pack by heart—the evil my so-called ancestors indulged in just to own these lands. I may not be proud of some of their actions, but I was a son of this land by name and that meant I had a responsibility to protect what’s ours no matter what it takes. And in my father’s eyes, any shortcoming from me was seen as a sign of my incompetency and my lack of loyalty to his legacy.

I opened the door to that dark basement room, shaking visibly as my eyes landed on the claw marks that decorated the wooden walls. Every time I find myself down here, I tell myself it will be the last and that I’ll never let him treat me like that anymore because I could fight back if I wanted to. I could stop his madness once and for all, but I knew the fallout would become too much to handle without proper planning since I didn’t want to end up worse than the man he was.

I pushed back the memories that clawed at my mind while descending the stairs. The marks on the wall were my doing and the memories from my childhood always threaten to rear their ugly heads whenever I am down here. The painful screams of thirteen-year-old me, the cries and pleas to be set free, the nightmares that haunted my dreams even though I wished they would stay out of my head. But they never listen, do they? No, they never do.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t come so I could make good on my threat,” Father scoffed as soon as his eyes landed on me.

I bit back a growl, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me up. The control I give him over my life is limited and rousing emotions out of me will never be one of them.

Never!

He doesn’t get the satisfaction of witnessing my anger, sadness, or pain. Not anymore, not since I found out he thrived on it, and I had already made the mistake of showing him my weakness, which is the only thing he dares to use against me.

“I am a man of honour, Father,” I muttered low, working open the buttons on my shirt.

“Can we get this over with? Or did you call me down here to chat?” I added, throwing my shirt aside and popping open the button of my trousers.

He crossed his arms, looking at me with disdain. “I see you’ve still got a smart mouth, even after getting yourself into trouble.”

I chose not to give him a response this time, and that would probably set him off more than my response. I had spoken out of turn earlier today at the meeting with the pack delegates, and according to my father’s words, I made him look bad in front of men who should fear him. That I interrupted the conversation to give my opinion on the topic being discussed when I wasn’t asked by my father meant disrespect to him, and this is his way of teaching me my place.

Not that I care for his stupid teachings, because I know this is just a way for him to assert his waning dominance and my body bears many fading scars that represent the horror I have endured in the room. The rattling sound of the chains as he unlocks them breaks through the silence in the room. I sighed before stepping forward.

“Kneel.” He commanded with a growl. The Alpha in me fought against the command, but I pushed back, doing as he said because I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

I bite back a wince as he pulls my arms behind my back and clasps the aconitum-induced chains around my wrist. The toxin in the chains burns through my flesh, and I bite down on my tongue to keep from letting out any sound.

I knew what was coming; we’ve gone through this routine over a hundred times since I turned thirteen and it didn’t surprise me when the first strike of the whip tore through my skin.

My eyes pulled closed as I dragged in a ragged breath and held it in as the second strike landed on my back. Pain flared through my skin, the bite of the whip and the hot silver penetrating my flesh rapidly.

The burning sensation flared rapidly all over my body as stroke after stroke hit my back, landing on my arm. I could feel the poison in the aconite as it seeped in, lapping at the burning heat from the molten silver, which easily broke through my skin, making it easier for the toxin to find its way in.

I let out a hushed breath as the pain increased, freeing my thoughts as I let my mind wander into a place of bliss and numbness. A habit I had mastered at the age of eighteen, using it as my escape from this torture. All I needed to do was close my eyes, let go of everything, and just exist.

No thoughts.

No worries.

No fight for control.

And my wolf, Slater, always did a perfect job of taking me through oblivion. In there, I could just be without being. In there, I was free; I was nobody and nobody had to worry about anything.

My father knew how dangerous these two substances were. Silver and aconite were poisonous weapons to our species, ones that could end the entire race of werewolves. Despite knowing this, he chose to use them on me.

Time passed in a blur, and I had felt at peace for the most part until the chains fell off my wrists as Father unchained me, and the clattering sound dragged me back to reality. My body propelled forward and I fell on my side before I could stop it, the poison in my blood making me weak.

I was bleeding all over the floor, and Father crouched before me. He grabbed my chin, lifting my head. “This better be a reminder of your place in this pack and what is expected of you.” He sneered, retracting his hand, and my head dropped to the hardwood floor with a loud bang. Pain shot down my neck, spreading upwards, and I could feel the headache coming. I watched him walk to the corner of the room and put on his mask.

This is the part where I am reminded how much I hate him and want to kill him. I let my eyes close and he released the gas into the room.

Sulphur Dioxide.

There is no point trying to fight the inhalation of the gas; I am too weak to do so and the toxins in my veins are currently preventing my healing abilities. It is better to take it in strides until I’m passed out.

‘Let me take over,’ Slater murmured through the link.

Usually, I would fight him on this because I needed him to conserve our energy and stay strong, but for some reason today I pulled down my wall without a word, sighing as my wolf pushed through to the surface.

‘This won’t continue for long; once the hazing ceremony is over, we will be appointed Pack Alpha. We will have the mantle of power, and we will put that arsehole six feet deep where he belongs.’

Slater growled and I smiled weakly. Just a few more months and I can finally show the arsehole what real pain feels like. I just need to hang on a little longer.