Unhinged Chapter 31

*”Your future will be determined more by choice than by chance.”- Frank Sonnenberg*

***

**Kiya***

The weight of the world is on my shoulders again. This time, I cannot see a way out.

From my tender scalp to my toes, my body suffers from throbbing aches. The morning sun begins a new day, but it couldn’t shine a light through the darkness. Unending tears fell from my eyes and my heavy body is trapped in bed. I didn’t want to do anything except stay in my

room.

After my episode last night, I woke up to find my friends surrounding me in my bed. No doubt feeling my distress through the mind-link. Jackie spooned me from behind, Abigail to my front, Sapphire and Galen cuddled into my legs. I don’t know how my bed fit five grown werewolves. but they made it work. Heat painted my cheeks from the closeness and their warmth is always welcome, but I feel awful for separating them from their mates. Mates sleep together, and they forgo that to comfort their broken and drunken friend.

I don’t deserve them.

Sometimes, I felt like a burden. How many times have they put themselves on hold to help me? How many times have they risked themselves for me? They shouldn’t have to do any of this. They have their rich lives to take care of, not a woman who can’t get a grip on her emotions.

My mess is mine to clean up; they have lives to tend to and shouldn’t bother themselves with my problems.

Although, I wish Darien was part of our nest. Our team is incomplete without him, and I miss him terribly. His brunette disaster, however, is determined to ruin me with a knife to the heart. But I know I’ll get him back.

Fuck vodka. I should’ve known it won’t make me forget about the guard. Now, I don’t have the strength to fight against this additional weight.

I’m strong, right? I’m a survivor, right? Then why do I feel so weak? Being strong day-in and day-out is so hard. It’s a full-time job; a brutal full-time job.

Yet, I turned in the pink-slip the moment my eyes landed on him. I come to learn his name as Tristan. A generic name for a detestable man.

Everything came back-the memories, sensations, pain, and more. And I couldn’t protect Artemis from the experience because I put up a wall too late after the assault. She knew that Tristan hurt me but didn’t know how brutal the hurt was. Anytime he’d come into my cell to do his dirty business, protecting Artemis from the horrific experience became a priority. Reinforcing the mental wall so she couldn’t see, feel, or hear Tristan’s assault became routine. I was physically weak, but I willed myself mentally to protect my wolf from the evil cast on my body.

I knew I could protect Artemis, no matter how much I suffered. My wolf holds a special place in my heart, and I’d be damned if anyone hurt her. She’s too pure to experience hell.

Even now, as she tries to help me out of my rut. Artemis is too good for me. How did a mighty wolf like herself get stuck with someone like me?

“**Don’t you dare go down that line of thinking, young lady!” Artemis bellowed suddenly like a mother scorning their child. “**You aren’t a burden to me**. **Never will be**. **You’re relapsing into depression again, and I’m here to remind you that I love you and will always be at your side no matter what**.”

**I let him get to me, Artemis*,” I reply as tears dripped on my pillow. “*As soon as I saw his face and smelled his scent, everything came back everything I felt as a slave*. *I don’t feel like myself anymore”. “Looking into his eyes was like he was raping me all over again”.”

**Kiya, why didn’t you let me know what happened**? **You gave me bits and pieces, but never the full story**.”

**We feel everything together when our walls are down*. *I couldn’t let you feel what he was doing to me*. *You’d try to take over to stop him, but he’d force himself on you*. *I couldn’t let you live with that pain too*! *I’m sorry, Artemis*.”

***Don’t apologize**. **Even when brutalized, you thought about my well-being.” If Artemis was next to me, I’d feel her snout nuzzle into my side. A pooling of warmth appeared on the right side of my body. “**You protected me**, **If anything. I don’t deserve you**. **You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for**.”

“I’m tired of it.” I admit, rubbing the fallen tears from my cheeks. “Being strong all the time is difficult*. *I’m reminded of why this pack is despicable and deserves to burn to the ground for what they did to us*.”

*An eye

for an eye**”

“*No one here got punished for what they did*. *Sure, they got rogue attacks, but it’s not enough*. *They’ve been left off the hook*. *It isn’t fair, Art*. *None of them truly suffered*.”

“…**Be careful with this line of thinking, Kiki**.” Artemis warned. Right on cue, Osiris’ mark pulsated, making me hiss in pain. “**It’s unfair, but you aren’t like them**. **You won’t stoop as low as they have**. **You’re better than them**.”

“*I know*…”

The mark continued to throb asynchronously from my heartbeat, begging for the touch of their creator. Since disfiguring Tristan, the call to darkness strengthened. It’s like a friend inviting me into a world of infinite possibilities. Beating the shit out of my rapist brought happiness beyond comprehension-it was only a fraction of the burning rage I felt. It dipped me in a sea of red, but coated in a blanket of blackened security. I didn’t want to leave it. I wanted more.

Osiris applauded me, delighted at my viciousness. If I wasn’t interrupted, I would’ve killed Tristan. I didn’t want him to die yet because he deserved more hurt. Death is too good for him. Waltzing into the afterlife meant he’s free of pain and responsibility of this world and he shouldn’t escape it. Not now, not ever.

Artemis is right. This line of thinking is dangerous. I can’t give Osiris what he wants-me becoming a ruthless monster. Becoming someone like him is not an option. I can’t give in to my dark side.

But, goddamnit, I wanted to.

I remained in bed for the rest of the day. Facing the world after unveiling my shameful secret terrified me. My appetite disappeared, and it hasn’t returned. Taking a shower was hell because my body felt as heavy as lead. Dragging it to the bathtub was like pulling cinderblock. I ignored my friend’s requests to hang out with them and told them they can eat my share of breakfast and lunch. I felt their disappointment and worry through mind-links, but I blocked them out.

I wanted to be alone.

Before I could take my millionth nap, a soft knock rapped on my door. I grouchily snatched my phone off the lamp table and checked the time. It’s past 7 PM. I tossed my phone back and covered my head with my blanket, hoping the person on the other side would take a hint and leave me alone.

“Delta Kiya? It’s Isabella!”

My head shot out of the blanket. Great, I can’t ignore my favorite student! Sighing, I kick the covers off me and trudged to the door, meeting a pair of innocent emeralds.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but…are you okay? You canceled training and I haven’t seen you all day.”

Goddess, my heart. Bella is worried about me. Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall again, I did my best to muster up a smile, kneeling to her level. “I’m sorry for worrying you, dear. I’m…dealing with some things and needed time away. Thank you for checking on me.”

“Well, as long as you’re okay…” This sweetheart and I developed a bond and I’m happy to see Bella come out of her shell. Although, it’s normal for younglings to worry about the adults they care about; I still worry about Mom and Dad occasionally.

“Is there anything else, Bell?”

“Yeah! Alpha Neron is asking for you.”

If there was a moment where I wanted to bash my head into a wall, it’d be now. I know he wants to talk about what happened on the cliff, but I’m dreading the awkwardness. Plus, there’s no way I’d avoid everyone for a day without him noticing.

Regardless of my internal protests, I followed Isabella to the kitchen where Neron was waiting for me. On the island were two plates of honey garlic salmon. My stomach thought it was a perfect moment to imitate a bear’s roar, and I know these two heard me. Neron shot me a smirk, and I blushed. His dish had less food than what I assume is mine. Isabella departed with a smile, leaving us alone.

“You look like hell.” He bluntly commented.

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Gesturing to the seat on the opposite side of him, I begrudgingly obliged, only because I’ve yet to have a decent meal. Neron filled a cup with water from a pitcher and handed it to me. Muttering my thanks, I grabbed my fork and took a well-needed bite.

“Wow!” Savory flavors danced around my tongue, making me smile. “This is good. Cassandra outdid herself.” Yikes, that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“She didn’t make this.”

“Who did?”

“Me.”

I choked on my fork. That’s impossible! I imagined Neron in a lot of positions, but as a cook wasn’t one of them! But when I look at his face, there’s no hint of deceit. His sapphires are twinkling with delight—a drastic change from yesterday. “Since when did you learn how to cook?

“Mom was the type who believed that everyone should learn how to cook. It’s a necessity that shouldn’t be based on gender. She showed me how, and it stuck with me. I don’t cook often; only on special occasions.”

“So, this is a special occasion?” I asked, taking another bite of the savory salmon. Goddess, I wanted to eat this for the rest of my life!

“Well, I wanted to see how you’re doing.” He admitted, poking at his fish with his fork. “And there’s something we need to talk about.”

Dread filled the air and savagely murdered my appetite. I dropped my fork down next to my plate and felt the weight of the world on me again. Crawling into a dark hole never seemed so appealing. I’m too overwhelmed and wanted to hide until it stops.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Lethal poison dripped from the last word as my body involuntarily shook from his past violence. “It’s barely been two days, and he’s taking up all my thoughts. Can we talk about something else?”

“We have to talk about him.”

“Then I’m leaving.” Abruptly, I shot up from my seat and marched towards the door.

“Tristan’s execution is set for tomorrow morning.”

Time stopped around me. Did I hear him correctly? Tristan will die? Turning my head, my expression is stoic, but my eyes are swimming with unspoken emotions. “What did you say?”

“Tristan will be killed tomorrow morning in front of the pack.” Neron explained, pushing his food to the side and folding his hands. “I visited him in the prisons last night and he confessed to what he did to you, Kiya. He admitted to everything but did not express remorse.”

Since when do rapists feel guilt for what they did? Rape is not a accident-Tristan knew what he was doing and why. He’d always said no one would believe me if I said anything. I was a slave. I could attempt to tarnish his name, but he had too many allies who’d believe him over me, including Jonathan. He’d beat me for lying.

I stared at the door, soaking in Neron’s words. Tristan confessed to him, but I need to hear it. I need him to look me in the eye and admit that he brutalized me.

“In front of the pack?” I asked in a whisper.

The Alpha nodded. “Executions are public. However, I want to ask if you want to be the one to execute him.”

Such a loaded statement. My mind spun madly; I had to grasp the wall to keep steady. To be the one to take Tristan’s life—to end his life forever—a part of me wants to do it. It’ll be retribution for my inner child. The bastard will die knowing his victim lived, and he’ll be served to the flames of hell.

But another part of me doesn’t want to do it. I’m not a killer. Will killing him help me heal? I’ ve lived by a personal code to never take a life. Yes, I’ve killed rogues, but Tristan isn’t a rogue. He’s a disgraced pack member. Is it my right to take a life?

“What if I don’t want to kill him?”

“I have a list of people who like to kill him, me and your sister included.” He smiled lovingly. ” You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“If I say yes, do I get a choice in how I kill him?”

“Yes.”

“…Can I have some time to think about this?”

“Yes, but you have until the morning of.” Neron took my plate and fork and walked to me, gently placing them in my hands. “Whatever your choice is, I’ll accept it. I won’t allow that man to live after what he’s done to you.” His large hand cupped my cheek, wiping away a tear that escaped. “My apologies won’t erase the past but allow me to carve out a future where he’ll never hurt you again. I promised to protect you, remember? And I won’t stop.”

I took the plate and nodded as more tears fell. Looking into his eyes, his blue took on many shades, but I see the vibrancy of his vows.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For giving me this choice. I’ll sleep on it.”

“Okay.” He grins. “Finish your food. I worked too hard on it to let it go to waste!”

“Alright.” Once he released me, I left the kitchen.

No matter what happens tomorrow, Tristan is dead.

But should he die by **my** hand?


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