Damn it. This isn’t how finding your mate is supposed to be.
“Well, your mate is human.” My lips form a thin line at Lev’s words. I run my fingers through Grace’s hair and she melts back into me, although her eyes don’t close.
I sigh heavily, loving the added weight of her on my chest. This would be so much better if she were a shifter. So much easier if she knew what to expect. If Grace had witnessed a heat firsthand, maybe she would’ve recognized it. At least her body perceives me as her mate. That’s more than I can say for Dom and Caleb’s mate.
Lizzie
Every inch of me shakes and won’t stop. The nightmares come back, full force and with details that took years to forget. I’m scared to death, huddled in the corner of the shower with the curtain closed as though they don’t know I’m in here. It’s only an illusion and one not a piece of me believes, but it’s all I have. I wonder if they know I’m not human. I pray they don’t. I can’t go back to what I once was.
I’m not even completely sure what I am. Latent, maybe? My old pack said I was useless and a waste. They sold me to some assholes who beat the shit out of me, trying to force my wolf to come out. Tears stream down my face and my body shakes.
They’re going to hurt me. Dom looks just like him. Like the shifter who brutalized my body over and over again. I shudder and squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories to go away. I thought I’d escaped all this. I thought I was finally free. How could this happen? My shoulders shake uncontrollably as sobs wrack my body. I gasp for breath, but my throat dries and closes, suffocating me.
I remember the pain shooting through my back while they whipped me. Taking turns and betting on whether I would break or if the wolf would show. The small spikes piercing into my skin and gripping on before being ripped away, taking bits of bloodied flesh with it, leaving nothing but raw, broken skin and blood. Although my vision was blurred, I can still see the splatters of my blood as they hit the wall. So much blood. I can still hear their laughter as my wounds closed before their eyes, although the brutal pain remained. That’s all the proof they needed. They kept at it, saying they would beat the latent out of me. That’s how it works with latent wolves. They show eventually … but mine never did.
I prayed every night for the healing to stop. I begged any and every deity who might have been listening to have mercy on me. Some nights I prayed for them to let my captors kill me. And then one night, my prayers must have been heard. I stopped being able to heal. Their confusion gave me relief, but it was short lived. They continued to torture me. They brought me to death’s door over and over again. Each day they invented new ways to damage me. To bring out my wolf, but she left me. Left me or died; I’m not sure which. I’m not sure if she ever even existed.
It took years before they gave up and tried to get their money back. They wanted to return me because I was broken. But my “pack” didn’t recognize my scent. They denied me. I was thrown away and left in human territory for them to claim me. No one ever did. It took nearly two years of living at the shelter for the Henders to take me. They got a check for keeping me. It wasn’t enough to stop them from the occasional smack and grab and push, though. Just like with everyone else, I was worthless to them. At that point I was so numb to the abuse I just accepted it as a way of life. At least they only struck me with their human fists, and I was grateful for it. They never tried to get “creative” like the shifters did.
I only started to heal when Grace took me in.
“Grace.” I sob her name into the cold tile wall. Please come help me. I can’t even speak the words aloud since my throat hurts too much. Come hold me. I wrap my arms around my shoulders and rock back and forth. She’s the only one who’s ever cared about me. I squeeze tighter as my head falls and rests on my knees. The only one who’s ever touched me in a kind way. I won’t survive here. I know it. This will kill me. With my last bit of energy, I whisper, “Please save me.”
Part III
The Betas
Dom
The sound of my mate crying is killing me. My chest feels hollow as I lean my forehead against the door to her temporary room. Her sobs never stop and my touch is useless to console her. I don’t understand; it’s not supposed to be like this. Her whispers echo in my head and my wolf whines in absolute torment. Rage replaces the agony … toward my wolf and myself. I should be able to soothe her, to be a balm to her broken soul. Instead, I’m the one causing her pain. The way she looks at me with sheer terror in her eyes shatters any hope I have at claiming my mate.