"we aren't always what we seem to be."

I sat in the waiting room once again, waiting patiently for her to come out safe and sound, though I knew that wasn't likely. Worry for the girl I never cared about plagued my mind as I got more and more overwrought every fleeting second. The chair I was sitting on screeched as I shook my legs in expectancy, brooding over the state of her health. 

A flashback ran through my mind, of the cuts on her arm. Those spiralling lines of white lodged into her skin, marks of her past.  I knew something was up, but I didn't know it was this bad. And no, I'm not going to say that it's sick, or disgusting, but I just wanted to know why. Why she would have put herself through another round of pain.  

Perhaps we both fought our monsters differently. The way my father forced me to cope with my anguish was agonising, but it taught me a lesson. And from then on, I couldn't feel the pain anymore. No matter how hard he hit me, no matter how unbearable it was, I couldn't feel it. The fact that I no longer paid any consideration to emotions, helped me. It made me realise that if I didn't care for anything, I wouldn't feel anything in return. 

I couldn't love her. I was heartless. 

**********

I looked out the window wistfully, watching the other kids playing along with each other, having fun.  My definition of fun wasn't the same as theirs. Since I was born to take the high title of an Alpha, I had to go through the right training along with it, starting from a ridiculously young age. Smiles planted on their faces as they joked around, doubling over in a horde of laughs. Groups of them were huddled around each other, the girls giggling whilst the boys ran around, chasing each other. 

I wanted to rebel against those meaningless rules my father had set before me; my mom always on his side. The pack knew about the harsh ways that he used, but didn't dare interfere, in fear of the consequences. I had learnt my lesson when he gave me a harsh beating for not doing what I had been told. This left me a few cracked ribs, a bruised jaw, and a knife wound on my stomach.

That did the trick. I always obeyed his instructions; scared of the consequences if I didn't.

Seeing that I was not using my free time 'properly', my father walked towards me, saying,"Go, to the training room. Now."  A furious expression crossed his eyes, annoyance evident in his tone of voice. I went there, where we began training. Battle tactics, defense and attack moves, the best way to murder your opponent, etc. Sweat dripped down my face, glistening under the flickering lights of the room. My stomach churned in response to the punches thrown by the man I called my father. 

He flashed me a sweetly bitter smile, before holding me up by my collar. His jaw clenched, tensing up as a muscle in his jaw twitched. His smile morphed into a wicked scowl, as I watched him throw his fist back and for stars to immediately dance into my vision. The world spun into vertigo as I crouched on my knees in pain. 

"I want you to get angry. Feel the rage, the adrenaline that passes through your body that alerts it. You are weak, son. Look at you, unable to fight back, squirming like an untrained pack member. The only thing that will do you good is anger. Let go of your emotions, all your feelings, and all that will make you a real man." 

A tinge of hurt, and rage swept through me, but it wasn't enough for him; he wanted more. "I will train you, the way that all Alphas should be trained. Brutally. Remember this. To have emotions, is to destroy your entire being. To love is to destroy. To care, is to be weak. And to be loved, is to be destroyed." He punched me in the face, throwing hit after hit, as I tried to stand up and defend myself. 

Putting my arms up to shield my face, the effort was legitimately wasted as he through a few kicks to my abdomen, making me grunt. Kneeling over, I groaned in pain, spitting out blood from my mouth. Determination ran through my veins, my heart pumping faster to make up for the lack of oxygen, as he smirked once again. With utmost ferocity, I swept his feet out from underneath him. 

He fell with an annoyed growl, kicking his leg wildly in the air. Dodging the attack, I lunged, throwing punches at him. My fists were becoming bruised, the skin on my knuckles becoming bloodier and bloodier by the second. But I didn't care. Gasoline fuelled my irate emotions, as I pinned him down on the mat. 

In a sudden second, I was the one on the mat, my breath knocked out of me. He grinned, knowing that he had the upper hand as he held my wrists down. Wincing, I tried my best to free myself from his strong hold, but his heavier weight supported him. Trying to break free was almost impossible. 

"Are you angry yet?! Huh? Is that all you've got?"

"You aren't my son. My son would be strong, maybe stronger than me even. YOU! You're just weak, fight back!! "He roared angrily. Letting go of his hold, I released my arms, kneeing him in the stomach before he recovered quickly. Too quickly. Weak and in pain, I threw some careless punches his way, and again, they were admonished.

Soon enough, I got tired of being treated like this, aiming a successful punch in his stomach. As I continued taking out my anger on him, he just smiled wickedly, again, as someone from behind me pushed me down and held me to the ground, as I thrashed around wildly, desperate to get out of his vice-like grip.

My father laughed maniacally, holding a small knife in his hand. He held it against my neck, cutting into the soft skin of my neck, saying, "What have you learnt, boy?" Whimpering from the blade digging into my skin, I saw the horrifying trickle of blood on the mat, spreading even more as more blood fell. 

"To...never...disrespect. Don't...feel. To...love...i-is...t-to...d-d-destroy."

And my body went slack, as blackness consumed my vision entirely.

**********
Of course, I didn't miss any of those memories, but they were etched into my mind since I was a young kid. I couldn't exactly escape the voices in my head, again. My brain always never seemed to be in control, and every time I had an outburst, I felt guilty after that. Guilty, for treating people so harshly, but I couldn't control the monstrous creature that took its residence inside my brain. Nothing could ever control it.

I sat there in the hospital chair, as my mind filled with nostalgia, from the first time I had been here because of her. My mate. I sure as hell didn't know her name, but I would try my best to control him. The beast. A frustrated growl left my mouth as I covered my head with my hands, thinking about the what ifs. The worst thing that could happen. And it was all my fault, for pressuring her, for hurting her. 

A part of me was afraid. Afraid that she wouldn't make it. 

The door opening made me look up at the doctor, who had more of a sad expression on his face. Oh no. I braced myself for the bad news, because that look can't possibly mean anything good. Silence filled the empty hallway, the doctor's eyes flitting around nervously from side to side, avoiding any form of eye contact. 

The doctor fiddled with his pen, as he addressed me with respect, just the way I needed to be treated. Or the Alpha in me would go cuckoo.

"Would you like to hear the bad news or the good news first?"

"The good."

"Her wounds are healing well, and her wolf is recovering at a rapid pace, which is a good thing. But, her mental health isn't as...good. She seems to not be recuperating from past memories, and some of the wounds she has are...self inflicted. Be careful, Alpha. With whatever you say, and whatever you will do. Don't break her," he whispered the last part, sheepishly looking down at the oh so interesting tiles of white. 

With that, he scuttled away, as I ran into the hospital ward where she stayed. Again, I went in, only to notice the things that I hadn't noticed before; the small details that had to be looked at closely before actually realizing it. The door slammed close as I hurried to her side, a plethora of emotions withering within my soulless heart. 

Her face was a pallid colour once again, and her features looked unnaturally stressed. Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she was thinking deeply into something, her sad, lilting eyes that would make anyone feel a tinge of sympathy for her. Staring into space, stuck in her own little world, so lost that she didn't even notice that I was sitting right there, looking into her twinkling golden eyes. 

Her full, pink lips were so inviting; however, and I didn't want to focus on them that much, but they were tempting for me to kiss her, to mark her. I wouldn't do that without consent, though. When she bit her lip, a part of me was tempted to just capture her lips with mine, letting them dance in a swirl of passion, but I forced the thought down. 

As I walked slowly towards her, making sure I didn't look intimidating, I sat down on the creaky, plastic chair beside the bed. She seemed to be stuck in a daze, not noticing my presence until I touched her hand, gently, asking,"How are you feeling?" Her eyes, still wandering amongst her imagination, abruptly turned to the direction of the floor. 

"I feel like complete and utter shit." Realization hit her as she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, looking apologetically towards me. I chuckled quietly, running my thumb across the palm of her hand, feeling the creases in it. She was so tense, but relaxed soon thereafter. We let the mate bond speak for itself, sparks still waltzing between the stringed tension in the air. 

A nurse had come in, to change the IV, and I saw the frightened expression on her face when she saw the huge needle. I can't blame her, because that thing is the size of a nuclear weapon. The nurse smiled warmly at her, and my mate looked up at me, shaking her head. As the nurse added a liquid into the needle, she shook her head frantically, holding on to my hand. 

She moved towards me as the nurse walked towards her, and I held her waist tightly, when I saw that she started shaking. I felt the connection between us strengthen, just by the mere touch of one another. She stopped shaking, visible, but she shut her eyes and tightened her grip on my arm. Her fingernails dug into my arm, pinching my skin lightly as she shook. 

I held her close to my chest as the nurse injected the needle into her skin, and a small prick of blood appeared. When the nurse finally went away, her eyes widening at me holding my mate, I glared at her, as if ushering her to go away. She did, sparingly taking her time, might I add. I asked my mate,"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, a little shaken up, but I'm alright."

"That's good." 

An unspoken bond stood before us, but it would be broken. 

**********

note

i'm sorry if this made you cringe, but i'm pretty tired, cause it's late at night. i also made that fight scene off the top of my head, unplanned and everything, which is why the plot is scattered. 

i hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)

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