Veltar had awoken before Syrana had, and at the worst possible time, too. It was pitch-black, and he could smell many different bodies surrounding him, but the one that he knew instantly, was Syrana who was laying directly next to him.
He reached out to touch her cold face and gasped in terror with its temperature. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his throat and lips were so dry, and even if she tried to swallow, he was so parched that nothing was helping his vocal chords vibrate.
At least he knew they weren't in that dungeon anymore. He'd never be able to forget that smell - and the one in here was warm, earthy, and had a fresh scent of water. It was an instant relief to inhale something so beautiful and soothing - but that relief faded as he pulled a limp, cold Syrana into his arms.
Since he couldn't speak, he decided to whisper into her ear and stroke her frail hair that felt so thin and nothing like what he remembered. His anger ignited as everything started to come back to him. At first it was slow, but the more he pieced together, the easier it was to complete the picture.
He and Syrana met somewhere with twinkling lights and lots of people....was it a party? It didn't matter - he just remembered seeing her deep red hair, beautiful bright gold eyes, and a face that would put any goddess to shame.
The instantly knew they were meant to be the moment their backs touched when they ran into each other. They started to see each other, and fell into a deep, shared love that was the only bright spot in her life (or so she said). They were set to accept one another and even had a celebration.
That was when everything went into a downward spiral. He had a little too much ale, and had picked the wrong person to tease. He honestly wouldn't have in his sober-state, but he was just being a foolish young male who was on an adrenaline high of being in love.
Silas had long had his eyes on Syrana - she was absolutely the most beautiful wolf in the entire lower sector, and everyone knew it. Silas had said something mean-spirited when everyone else was in good spirits, then Veltar said...something? What was it?
It was hazy, but he recollected a roaring laughter after he said it. Silas had been so angry he vowed to get back at Veltar somehow.Then he was assigned to the mines, and he hadn't been so upset about it. He could weather that easily - he just deeply missed Syrana.
...and...what was it? He remembered being hit so hard in the back of the head he saw black and white flashes. Veltar even moved his hand to the back of his head to feel the small indentation in his skull just to make sure it was true.
The next time he recalled anything was when he was in the damned cell that had him on long chains that one could tighten so much it flattened him to the wall. There would often be pricks of a needle, the burning of a knife slice, and once - a leech.
For a long time he didn't understand what was going on, and why, until Silas appeared in his cell one day with a wicked smile of triumph.
'I'm accepting Syrana today. Everyone thinks you are dead - even her. I'm going to steal the life you thought you were owed, and you're actually helping me do it right now. I've been tricking her feeble mind to think she and I are moon mates.'
His taunts were often quite mean, and at times felt so bad that it made him want to give up and lay there without any hope - especially the day that Syri was born. Silas came to taunt him with details of her birth, how happy Syrana was, and how much the pup looked like him.
'We're going to be very happy together, and she's forgotten all about you.'
Then his mental state started to decline. He couldn't even feel Syrana presence at all, he couldn't feel anything other than darkness and stench.
From that point on all he could remember was staring into oblivion with no desire to live for so long he lost all sense of time. It hadn't even bothered him anymore when Silas would come and take his hair, blood, or sometimes both.
Nothing mattered. He wasn't even sure things mattered right now, either. If Syrana died, what was the point of anything? He could smell a sweet almond-like scent from her lips and grit his teeth. Silas had been poisoning her for a few days. He recognized that smell from anywhere. His parents often worked with oils to make medicinal pastes, potions, and healing creams.
That was cyanide.
They mainly used it to kill pests and sometimes create it for the textile clan to make dyes and other chemicals.
Silas had poisoned Syrana with the very thing his parents created and sold for other uses.
What a cruel, and foul thing to do to someone who was so pure and good - whose smile lit up the entire room, whose heart was king and endless. Why would he do such a thing to her - or really, to anyone?
Veltar sobbed as he pulled his mate towards him with the tightest embrace he could manage. It wasn't as powerful as it once had been when he'd hold her close as she fell asleep for what felt like an eon ago.
"If you live, I'll spend the rest of my life taking care of you the way you always deserved. I'll take your pup in as my own, and we'll give her a sister or brother to play with. We can live next door to my parents like we always wanted. I'll never leave your side again, Syrana. Just don't leave me here without you," he whispered into her ear and kissed her cheeks and chapped lips.
"I love you, and I need you to live - your girl needs you to live. The world needs you to live, because you are the sun that makes everything grow and flower into beautiful things."