Life likes to fuck people up.
But with some people, it crosses every limit.
Zale ripped the bandages off which Soren changed a few hours ago, with his long and sharp claws on display. He wanted to shift, but his wolf kept telling him that it would only make him worse.
"Zale, kid relax." Sura, his inner wolf exclaimed. Sura only appears when Zale wants to shift or has murderous intentions.
Because Zale has not still learned how to manage his wolf form, his desire to change would likely result in more bloodshed. This is similar to any other wild animal that enjoys haunting. Because Sura hardly ever gets to be outside and get to enjoy freedom, Sura turns as feral as him once Zale shifts. He is peaceful as long as Zale doesn't allow him out, but Sura is aware of how challenging it will be for both of them to resist hunger and want to go hunting once Zale shifts.
It might also be credited to the Alpha, who prevented them from spending any time together and developing an understanding in the training field similar to what Soren and his tiger had.
"I-I can't-!" Zale shakes his head violently, feeling another rush of craziness erupting in his stomach while the headache ten folds. He clenched his fists to restrain himself from hurting himself but poked his cheek with his claws anyways.
He's so used to harming himself now that no matter how hard he tries, he can't help but hurt himself every time he loses control.
The anguish from poking himself in the already-injured cheek and jaw made him feel as though he was being punished for every evil he had ever committed. He groaned in unbearable agony brought on by himself. His neck is covered with blood, and if he digs any farther, he might even pierce flesh.
His hazel-green eyes were puffy from crying so much, and a lot of tears were coming down constantly. He wanted to slam his head against the wall because he felt like a significant portion of his life was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do about it other than watch as it occurred.
Sometimes, he thought if he could escape all this misery by silencing himself in a dark place but then he thought if death changed anything.
What if death changes nothing and you still feel the same pain in the afterlife?
And it throws him into such a state of turmoil to think that he will only be remembered as a memory by his mate, by his Soren. He doesn't want himself to be just a memory that Soren will eventually forget.
Zale stumbled out of bed and dashed towards the door. He dashes downstairs, his eyes unsettling, not caring about his surroundings. The servants gasped in surprise and moved out of his path. After seeing his dishevelled appearance, a maid who was cleaning the vase, fell out of her hand and broke.
However, nobody dared to get in his way seeing how his nostrils flared from rage. They could just see him running barefoot, and one maid ran off to inform Frank.
Everything happened so fast that Zale ignored whoever was calling him because he couldn't hear them at all and sprinted out of the mansion.
As soon as he entered the forest that settled behind the mansion he shifted into his large angry wolf. His bones cracked because he didn't know when was the last time he shifts but he didn't feel the sting anymore, the rage was too heavy and he was tempted to rip some things apart.
He didn't mind whether the first prey he found was a human or an animal, goat or rabbit. He just continued to cast them down, sinking his canines and tearing their necks. The blood pooled beneath them as he howled and kept on attacking them until he tore them to the last piece. The blood dripped from his brown fur and wet nose. He growled in satisfaction as his prey cried in pain he was giving to them, but he didn't feel a thing.
He likes to give pain to others, doesn't matter to humans or other shifters.
After hours of running and slaughtering, he stopped once he was satisfied and tired. He snarled and looked around the catastrophe he had caused, admiring the sliced-off necks and blood spattered on the ground. He didn't feel a thing for what he did, he didn't feel pity or guilt.
All he felt was remorse and fulfilment.
He turned around and returned along the same route, skipping the main entrance. He went to the mansion's back because he couldn't enter in this condition. The brown wolf took a quick glance at the room's window before moving on to the tree in front of him. He leaped onto the tree and hopped into his room.
However, his legs instantly gave in when his eyes caught a silhouette calmly sitting on his bed. Taking a step further his eyes met with the most nerve-chilling eyes ever, which left the hairs on his skin standing.
The room was dead silent and serious.
"Shift." The shadow commands and stands up. And by how relaxed the word tripled out of his tongue, it forced Zale to take a step back.
Without being told a second time, Zale shifts back to his human form. Which was as messed up as his wolf form. Naked body with fine muscles smudged in blood stained from head to toe. He stands up to his full height, his legs on the verge of giving out. It's not clear to him whether it was from exhaustion or from the cold person in front of him.
The cold person calmly stared at the wounds on his face, his unruly hairs, the blood still dripping from them, his gloomy eyes filled with so much uneasiness, which appeared like they just got a little life not so much time ago, parted lips with cracks on the results of his screaming.
"Wear them," Soren implored, in his icy voice. He sighed deeply, but his face was so calm that Zale's heart raced and she unknowingly gulped. Soren turned and looked at the already-resting clothes on the bed, as if he knew Zale would need them when he returned.
He hurled the pair of clothes at Zale, not at all minding his stark naked body.
Zale wanted to tell him that he was dirty and felt disgusted by himself and wanted to take a cold shower. However, glancing at Soren's terrifyingly normal face he couldn't open his sealed lips.
He couldn't refuse his orders and gradually began to dress. Soren, meanwhile, clenched his fist and stared at his master. He wanted to look away and give him some privacy while he changed, but he quickly dismissed that idea and pushed any morals to the back of his mind.
Soren cursed himself for finding himself completely enchanting as he looked at his blood-stained body. His eyes darkened as he shamelessly scanned Zale's lean body.
He shakes his head to think straight.
Zale nervously straightened up and waited for Soren to speak. He looked into his dark eyes and started picking at his fingernails as nervousness loomed on him. He really fucked up this time, he thought it was anger present in Soren's eyes with something else he couldn't put his finger at.
But Soren didn't say anything. He turned around and started to walk which made Zale frown in confusion. He just stands there frozen dumbfoundedly.
Soren picked the glass of pineapple juice, Zale's favourite, which Soren prepared to put the medicine in priorly, the same amount Shilister told him.
"Drink it while it's cold." Soren comes to halt a few inches far away from him, and scrunches his nose as the smell of blood hits him.
Zale couldn't comprehend anything or why Soren was behaving like this. Why wasn't he saying anything about him or raising any questions?
His emotionless face and nonchalant attitude gave him more creeps when he yelled at him.
He silently extended his hand and accepted the glass, but he couldn't bring it to his lips to drink. How could he possibly have the stomach to eat or drink anything after just returning from slaughtering the poor animals?
He felt wet and sticky just by standing there.
"What are you waiting for? Drink it." Soren scoffs and the silence in the room was cut off by his firm voice causing Zale to flinch in panic.
Zale hurriedly started to gulp down the liquid.
When he was half way, he peeked at Soren and their eyes met, and he swears he noticed the fire and hunger in his eyes, the same emotions that he witnessed in the morning when Soren left him with a promise of not doing anything bad.
But what did he do? He did exactly the opposite of what Soren told him.
"How many-?"
Zale choked and coughed nonstop before Soren could complete.
Soren rolled his eyes and took the glass from him, ignoring the prints of blood on the glass which Zale's fingers left.
"How many this time?" Soren asked firmly.
"I-I don't remember," Zale replied, Soren, put the glass away and turned back to him.
He had an 'I'm not in the mood of fucking right now' expression which left Zale shaking a little in his spot.
"Master Zale," Soren starts not even trying to hide his frustration this time. "I'm not in the mood of playing the guessing with you." Zale swallowed the lump in his throat, he knows it's better not to provoke Soren further.
"So.you.better.fucking.answer," Soren said one word at a time. "Before I lose it."