IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Axel

I practically growled all the way back to my room. My skin was crawling, itching to let my wolf out, to feel the freedom of his movement through my sore muscles.

He refused. Remained dormant. Pestered me with his ongoing absence. It was something I could not stomach. He has played a fundamental role in my life from the very first memory I had and now he has abandoned me completely.

Not only did I have this unsaturated ache in my heart because of the damn mating bond, but also a hollowness thanks to his retreat. Tried as I might, I couldn't summon him. He had drawn back into the deepest, darkest part of my subconscious. Hiding away like a stubborn little pup.

My veins throbbed painfully as I slammed the heavy wooden door behind me and turned to see my bags already packed and neatly placed on the edge of the king-sized bed. Right next to it were two strategically placed sets of clothing, one pair of fresh boxer briefs and a t-shirt, obviously for sleeping in and the other, a set of casualwear for tomorrow’s trip back to Hollow Stone.

“Message received, loud and clear!” I called out and hurled the clothes and bags off the bed, flinging them angrily across the room.

Even after silence fell all around me, I still did not feel better, in fact, I felt extremely wound up and ready to snap. With a clenched jaw and tight fists, I started pacing the room anxiously, begging my wolf to come forward.

I begged and begged. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

After a while I crouched down, squatting in the middle of the room, clamping my eyes shut tightly and pressing my thumb and index finger to my brow in concentration.

Come on, come on.

Please! I need you!

Nothing.

“Fuck!” I growled and grabbed the nearest vase, hurling it violently through the air. It collided with a large, full-length mirror against the wall and both instantly shattered on impact.

The crash and chaos were like music to my ears. Yet, it did not fill the emptiness I had inside of me. As I looked down into the shards of broken mirror scattered all over the floor, I did not recognise the person staring back at me.

Who was this person I had become?

My face had been distorted in anger with prominent veins protruding along the sides of my neck and one down the middle of my forehead. The well-styled, golden buzz cut I usually wore, had been replaced with slightly longer, unkept strands of damp strings hanging in waves over my ears and brows, almost reaching into my once lively powder-blue eyes.

My chest heaved as every inch of my skin crawled in protest of being stuck in my human form for far too long. Unintentionally, I started scratching at my arm, trying to bring some temporary comfort. It didn’t come.

I scratched and clawed at the creeping skin until it turned a bright red and tiny specks of blood seeped through. Unsatisfied with the small amount of relief it brought, I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower’s warm faucet.

Still fully dressed, I climbed in and stood in the middle of the tiled space waiting. Waiting for the water to heat up and burn the unrelenting itchiness away.

At first, cold lines of aqua ran down my tired body, but soon enough, the coldness turned lukewarm and within seconds it became scorching.

I took a deep breath and held out my hands for the blistering liquid to lick my prickling skin, to kiss away the discomfort I had endured and couldn’t stand to endure anymore.

A strange sense of calmness fell over me for the first time in weeks. I closed my eyes and emptied my mind, focusing on absolutely nothing. Without moving, I stood there until a heavy cloud of steam had filled every inch of the beige bathroom and every glass surface had been covered in a layer of foggy white.

Even though a tender burning sting had replaced the crawling sensation, I felt a sense of relief. I knew it was only temporary and that my wolf-healing would take care of any possible blisters, but for now, I only wanted to be free of the torment. That constant reminder that my wolf had rejected me because of a woman. A woman we had never even spoken to.

We didn’t know her smell, the warmth of her skin or the sound of her voice.

That horrible night four months ago had caught me completely off guard. Every face in the room had turned, waiting for my reaction. I had no idea what was going on. Didn't even noticed what was happening until my eyes met with hers. Right then I knew without a doubt that she was my mate.

For a moment that evening, I had been caught up in her beauty. The mate bond lulled me into a trance and my feet carried me towards her on their own accord. It only lasted for a brief moment though, because the second the reality of the situation hit me, I halted.

Reality had slammed into me at full force, plunging straight into my gut, turning and twisting it uncomfortably. And just then, without ever glancing back, I stormed out of the room, leaving her and everyone else gaping and confused.

I didn’t care what it had looked like, what she had felt. I couldn’t do it. I could not go through everything Raiden had. The way he had searched for my sister relentlessly after her disappearance. How he had gone back to the last place her scent had been found under that old oak, only to be met with emptiness and sorrow night after night.

His agonizing howls still haunted my dreams. That, and all the other nightmares I regularly suffered through. In particular, the excruciating moment when I had realized Lily never made it back to her room.

Repeatedly, I dreamt of running after her, frantically searching for a hint of a scent to follow, but I never found it. My dreams always ended the same way. I couldn’t bring myself to voice it, to think about it. For years, sleeping had become my worst fear. And that was exactly why I had chosen to fill my bed with numerous warm bodies over the years. To chase away the ever-present eerie darkness which followed me around.

Lately, I have been trying to avoid sleep in any way I possibly could, because if I wasn’t caught up in a nightmare about my twin’s disappearance, I was having some kind of wet dream about the girl I avoided like the plague.

No, I couldn’t go through what we went through with Lily again. I couldn’t allow anyone to get that close to me again. It only left you exposed and open for evil to dig its filthy claws into the depths of your broken heart.

I have built a solid wall, no, a fortress around the chambers of my heart and wouldn’t be bringing it down for anyone. Gabrielle would have to move on and forget about me. I didn’t want the vulnerability a mate brought. If I felt such anguish with my sister, I could not imagine what I would have to endure when losing a mate.

Damn my wolf! Damn him to hell!

I do not need him! Not anymore!

Slowly, I peeled the drenched clothes from my tired body and dumped them on the shower floor with a wet slush. I stood there for a few more moments as the burning liquid ran in rivers over the contours of my chest and down my back, waking my senses as it covered new, unwashed sensitive areas. I did not flinch. In fact, I welcomed the pain. I would much rather take the physical pain than endure any more of the unhurried emotional torment gradually taking control of my entire being and suffocating my soul.

Finally, after successfully searing every inch of my now red, almost glowing skin, I stepped out of the shower. The cold air outside blew breaths of unwelcome relief over my steam-releasing limbs.

Exhausted and uncaring, I moved into the bedroom and fell face-first onto the messy bed, lying on top of the covers.

That night, in my dreams, I had seen her face again. Gabrielle’s. But this time I was running frantically through the woods, trying to find her. HE has taken her; HE has taken control of my mate and now she was lost. I would never see her again. HE, the Host Crawler, who had taken Lily eight years ago, has now come back to ruin my life yet again. To rip my soul away from me like it was some cruel, wicked game.