Dies Irae

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I didn’t have a track of time. At all. Each time my head would slump, my body trying to rest, the woman would wake me up to keep me from sleeping. To keep me from seeing Marcus.

I was heartbroken at his words. I would rather die than have him come here and practically sacrifice himself. And, Calliope lied to him; I hope he would realize that.

She had said that I would not be harmed, which I did not care about as I valued Marcus over myself, but once she’d harm him, it would undoubtedly come back to impact me. And, she already violated me.

That hurt.

Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

‘Mate...mate is mad.’

I sighed to myself.

I missed Marcus. So much that it physically hurt and I had handcuffs coated in wolfsbane on my wrists and that didn’t hurt as much as it did without my mate.

Honestly, it felt like I was missing something. That there was this void that was absolutely and entirely crushing my chest. And, in all honesty, I was missing something. I was missing my mate that I was plucked from, for reasons that were obscure, ridiculous, and ultimately petty.

I didn’t care if Marcus had relations with other girls before me, although the reminder did sting, I didn’t care. I’ve had relations with men that weren’t him; it wasn’t fair to hold a double standard, not to either one of us.

However, the whole bluntly murdering Jerome and Ren because of one thing, that I deemed small, still seemed too out of proportion to kidnap me.

Keep in mind: I didn’t fucking know this woman.

The two times we’ve conversed, it was for her to yell at me. And, although Marcus did a bad thing, in my eyes, by killing two men for the simplest of reasons, I would side with him and support him because this woman had no right to yell at me; even if I was fighting with Marcus over this.

Because, the thing is, a relationship is never smiles and rainbows twenty-five eight, if they are, they get boring really quick. What makes a relationship is staying when times get tough.

I don’t agree with Marcus and he knows that. However, I wasn’t going to up and leave our preciously sacred bond over something like that. Honestly, I felt that despite that difference, it was vital to our relationship. Disagreements were imperative.

I wouldn’t have thought about that before, it was an eye-opening realization.

The sound of the door opening broke my attention.

I had so many unanswered questions. It was obvious she wasn’t alone in this plan. There was something much bigger to this. There was no way any mirror would be able to broadcast a live image to communicate. There had to be black magic. No doubt; like the band.

“You smell distraught,” she spoke out.

Silence from my end. It frustrated her.

Something that Marcus lacked was patience and I had a lot of it. And it worked out for us. He had a lot of anger that seemed like he couldn’t control. I could control my anger. Although, he did try and it made me beyond happy.

“Sad little woman?” she continued, walking in front of me, “Now, I’ve heard French people are naturally thin,” she ran her hand down my shoulder, cupping my breast.

A disgusted shudder washed over my body.

“But you’re thin, skinnier than my sister, lithe,” she continued, “see, Marcus doesn’t like girls like you,” she spat, “because he didn’t get a choice with you. He doesn’t like foreign girls,” she ended, removing her hands from my chest.

“Who are you working with?” I asked, trying to distract my mind from the fact that I just got felt up, again.

I honestly did not know what her deal was and why she had to keep putting her hands on me. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“And why should I tell you?” She grinned her nasty grin.

I didn’t respond.

“There are things you don’t know about Marcus, things no one knows, not even my sister did, he doesn’t,” she began, “but I know,” she sang, twirling my hair in her hand.

Why did she have to touch me? Honestly. What in the world did I do for this to happen?

“And he’s made a lot of enemies. Enemies that were glad to help me, like Hecate. Goddess of witchcraft, magic, and lessly, ghosts.”

Wait, wait, wait, witchcraft? If what she was saying was true, and I took it to be, then that would explain so much. Literally.

“So, I had her stop in- you’re such a pretty sleeper,” she cupped my cheek before harshly smacking the skin.

I flinched before I felt myself grow irritated. I had to tell myself not to react and it was hard. I knew why Marcus let his anger go so freely: it was easy.

But I knew better.

“Marcus was skeptical of what you told him, but protective of you,”she rolled her eyes, “even with no proof of someone being with you, his fucking instincts had to overrule that,” she growled.

I kept quiet, as hard as it was.

I fucking knew I saw something. All along! I knew I wasn’t seeing things because it was more than a visual thing; it was to the point where every instinct in me stood up, ready to protect myself and anyone else because it knew it sensed danger.

“Don’t you just hate that? Try sneaking around a wolf, let alone a damned Alpha, it’s a fucking land mine!” she huffed.

Before she went to say something else, she paused, looking behind me. I didn’t sense anything so I had no clue what she was distracted by. She growled out, annoyance lacing her tone, before straightening her posture and walking out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Once she was gone, I was left alone to think again. With that came pain. A deep throbbing pain in my core. I was missing Marcus to the point where it physically hurt.

Every shifter knew that mates were inseparable. It’s basically the first thing young wolves learn. Any distance for a certain period of time will inevitably lead to insanity. And it made sense.

Like a baby being separated from their caregiver.

I was exhausted. The turmoil from being separated from my soulmate, the wolfsbane weakening me, the sexual assault, the threat of being raped by some random man, the knowledge that this was so much more than some jealous bitch- it was all too much and draining.

My head slumped, my eyes fluttering close.

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