Page 44 of His Loved Lycan Luna

My muscles tense, a wave of pain coursing up my spine like a relentless tidal surge. It engulfs me, threatening to consume me entirely. Yet still, I laugh. Pain has become an unwelcome constant in my life, an unyielding presence that no longer holds the power to break me. Years of enduring nothing but anguish has forged within me a limitless tolerance for suffering. I have anticipated this torment, braced myself for its arrival, and ultimately survived it.

Once again, I feel myself disconnecting from my surroundings, growing numb to everything around me.Let him hurt me, for pain is something I can endure. But can he? I know itmust inflict its own brand of torment upon him, but as for me? No, pain resides in the realm of the mind. It is something I can switch on and off at will, desensitizing myself to its cruel touch. And so, that is precisely what I do.

Most would call me mad for what I intended to do. Calm washes over me as I let my mind float. I go on autopilot, then I poke the wolf.

“Surprised you even have a pack,” I taunt, my laughter echoing through the room. His eyes darken, shifting in a tempest of rage. “Mrs. Daley’s commands packed a better punch, and she was an omega!” The venom drips from my words, stinging his pride with a potency that cannot be ignored. His wolf lurches forward at the disrespect, his egotistic side coming forward wanting to force me to submit; I’ll die before I do.

His malt-colored wolf charges at me. Paws hit my chest, sending me flying back against the wall. My brain rattles inside my skull as it smashes against the brick wall. He snarls, stalking toward me, and suddenly, I am seeing double, but a sound never escapes my lips. Not even when his razor-sharp teeth tear through my flesh as he mauls me.

Don’t cry, tears won’t save you,I think, willing myself to remain silent.I am done shedding tears for this monster,I remind myself. When he gets no reaction from tearing into my thigh, he tears into my shoulder and arm. Blood drenches and pools around me. My body shakes, but I do not make a sound; I just stare a silly smile on my face. Instead, I go back to my safe place. Zoning out, my mind taking me to a place where no one can touch me. A place I’ve been many times before.

I exist as an empty shell, only coming back to my surroundings when his teeth snap at my face. His fur puffs out as he growls when I hear a sob. In the commotion, my eyes flit toward the door to see a woman. Tears stain her cheeks, but none fall from my eyes; I feel nothing as I stare back at her fear-stricken face.

In this life, every corner seems to hide something ready to knock me down. It’s been one hit after another, each punch harder than thelast; every bit of hope I try to hold on to gets smashed before it can even take root.

Being fearless? Being strong, being hopeful? That’s not about being brave for me. It’s more like I’m just too tired to be scared anymore. Life has beaten me up, taking everything that mattered – my innocence, my dignity, the chance to love, to really live.

What’s left is just me, stripped bare, down to the broken, cracked, and charred bones of my existence; those bones are painted red, black, and blue, red for my blood that’s been spilled, blue for the pain endured, black for my soul they have broken, barely hanging on, a shadow of who I used to dream of being.

And what I dreamed of wasn’t ego-based, wasn’t selfish, wasn’t materialistic; it was freedom, freedom to be more than I was yesterday. A name, not rogue, whore, slut, slave, but Abbie, yet as each day passed, I eventually forgot who she was, beaten into silence, stripped of all rights, pillaged of everything.

So death doesn’t scare me now. It doesn’t make my heart race or fill me with dread. Instead, it feels like it’s calling to me, promising a break from all this pain.

Instead, it beckons with the gentle allure of freedom, a release from this nightmare that has become my existence. Where life has been a relentless teacher of pain, teaching me the brutal lessons of loss and despair, death whispers of peace, of the end of suffering.

For in death, I see not an end but a beginning—a chance to escape the chains that bind me to this tortured existence.

So, I stand on the precipice of death, gazing into the abyss, unafraid. Not because I’m brave but because life has broken me to the point where continuing to exist, to endure this endless cycle of pain, is the true horror.

Kade growls and I turn my attention to his enormous wolf standing over me. He whimpers when he backs up,sniffing my thigh where he tore it apart, and I glance down. So much blood; no part of me is left unstained, left unmarred.

“Are you done?” I ask. My voice comes out unwavering, yet I can’t recognize it as my own. Kade turns his furry head to the side, examining me, and I stare back, unblinking.

Kade shifts back, his bones snapping as he crouches before me. For a second, I think I see guilt flash across his features. “You will learn. You only had to get on the bed,” he says, his eyes scanning over my mauled flesh. “It didn’t have to be this way,” he snaps, making my eyebrows rise. I laugh and shake my head, but I can feel my blood draining out of me. Feel the blood leave my face, the cold sweat beading over my skin, and I smile.

“Get the doctor,” Kade screams as I feel myself fading, the room becoming dull.

“Abbie? I… you need to stay awake,” Kade says, and I feel the tingles spread across my skin as he tries to stop the bleeding. I am bleeding out and dying, I know, and he knows it.

“Get the Pack Doctornow!” screams Kade as my mark burns my neck, and I relish the pain of the bond dying along with me.

“Does it hurt?” I murmur, my eyelids closing. My head falls forward, unable to keep it up when he grabs my face. His fingers pry my eyelids open. I only see white.

“What…? Hurry up!” Kade screams, and I hear people running up the steps toward us.

“Does it hurt?” I repeat.

“You think I wanted to do this? Of course, it hurts, I…”

“Because I feel nothing!” I giggle.

“Hang on, Abbie,” Kade says.

I snort. “For what? Certainly not for you,” I mumble, my lips going numb.

“Hang on for me. I didn’t mean it. You should know better; I…I…” he stutters frantically.

“Just hang on,” he says as my body feels more and more limp.

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