Chapter ten.

For some three months might not seem like that long a time, however, for Celeste, it had brought drastic changes. She was not quite digging any of it.

One might say that after a harrowing experience like she’d had, a person, when rescued, feels grateful. But what they fail to mention is the impact it leaves on that individual. The trauma alone makes it difficult to process anything else. Add on to it the revelation of their mother being of a mixed bloodline and her father's tenuous condition – that is what is called the brew of devastation.

Celeste had always been the one to speak her mind; a cold-hearted bitch is what most people her age used to call her before this entire ordeal. Now though, she had become quieter and more self-contained. Her mind had become her personal hell-loop, replaying the nights spent in that lavish room with Dante and his goons. She tried not to walk the hallway where that particular room was located but even when she had to, she always lowered her head while going past and fisted her hands trying to suppress the violent shudders that overtook her body.

No one, apart from her and her perpetrators, knew of the things that had been done to her behind closed doors. She wanted to keep it that way, even if it meant that the four of them might never be punished for it, then so be it. She couldn’t imagine what the people would say, let alone think of her.

It brought nightmares; of Dante injecting silver in her father’s veins and then raping her as her father watched, unable to do anything, of Scott and Dante dragging her limp form to the dungeons and doing all manners of sordid things to her in front of everyone from her clan chained behind bars.

She never screamed or cried, though. She felt that it made her look weak, pathetic even that horrible men like Dante and Scott could draw out such a reaction from her. No, she refused to give them that power. So, she endured the torture all by herself.

After the battle, the clan had moved forward as though nothing major had happened. Despite the fact that they had a new alpha, a new place to live in and more than that had seen the loss of fellow pack-members, it somehow didn’t seem to matter much to them.

Celeste was still stuck in those terrible moments. The only reprieve she had was the company of her friend Tyra. She was the only person who made time for her, made her laugh and shared clan gossip with her as though knowing who’s jealous of whom could matter to Celeste after what she’d been through. Everything seemed petty and inconsequential to her. But she couldn’t tell Tyra that, and couldn’t blame her for making her best friend laugh.

After Blayne had been taken into the infirmary for further healing, Colina had collapsed. She had been spent; she had explained later to both Blayne and Celeste and then continued to tell them about her witchy voodoo. Ostensibly, Blayne had forgiven Colina for keeping such a huge secret from their family but Celeste couldn’t shake off the anger she felt towards her mother.

I mean, we're family and families don't hide things from each other. They don't deceive each other, Celeste had thought back then. This stance of hers hadn’t changed even at present.

The only good thing to come out of this was that Tyra had found her mate. Owen was previously from Ben's pack and had turned on Ben. After the battle, he had been tending to the injured when Tyra had happened to pass by. He hadn’t recognized the prickling sensation, discounting it as an involuntary shiver at first. A few moments later, Owen’s eyes had met Tyra’s. For Celeste’s best friend, the contact was insignificant but Owen’s world had tilted on its axis in that very instant.

Unthinkingly, Owen had then run to where Tyra had been and a second later, he had Tyra in his arms. The contact had jarred Tyra so sturdily that there was no doubt left. They’d found each other. Shortly, they were assigned the same rooms and the claiming had followed.

Before a wolf turned eighteen, they couldn't sense their mate and Tyra wasn't even eighteen yet but the way they loved each other was evidently enough.

Celeste didn't admit it even to herself, but she was envious of them.

Presently, nonetheless, she was on her way to meet her father and nothing could dampen her mood. She must have spoken too soon because the moment she stepped into the infirmary, she saw Colina's tear-stained face and the pack doctor's grave expression.

"What's wrong?" Celeste asked her mother, who looked at her and briskly walked out of the infirmary. Celeste then looked, rather glared at the doctor. The pack doctor was a very old fellow with silver-grey hair and a sunken face, watching his face get even sadder gave Celeste the worst ideas about her father's ailment.

"Celeste, I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news but remember, whatever happens, it is for the best." His voice was sullen, which irked Celeste.

"If I had wanted to listen to sermons, doc, I would have gone to the church instead of coming here. Get straight to the point." Seeing Celeste seething in anger, the doctor spluttered but then consumed himself.

"Blayne's situation had been precarious when your mother, erm, revived his waning spirit. She was, however, only able to save a part of him and it's heartrending to say that Blayne might not be able to shift anymore. He... he might have lost his wolf, he might only be a human now."

"What do you mean by 'might'? How can you not be sure of his condition? What kind of doctor are you? Wait, I’ll tell you – a useless one." Leaving the doctor where he had been, she ran to her father's room but stopped short when she realized that maybe no one had yet conveyed the message to Blayne. She didn't want to be the one to distress her father any further so she collected her bearings and forced a smile to her face as she opened the door to the room.

To her surprise, Blayne was awake and looking healthier than the day before. Circumspectly, she took a seat adjacent to his bed and smiled through the tears as Blayne took her hand in his, beaming proudly at her daughter.

Before this day, her father hadn't been able to speak much because of the sedatives and pain killers but currently, he seemed as though he could tell her a bedtime story. She desperately tried to keep her tears at bay.

"Hey, dad. How are you feeling today?" She asked and was frustrated at how shaky her voice sounded.

"Like a truck run me over but still better than yesterday," he joked. "They've lain off the sedatives, so I am not drooling or sleeping most of the times." He even winked at her, and these loving gestures finally broke the walls she had tried so hard to build these past months. The tears came flooding down her face as she hugged her father.

"I thought you'll never wake up. I was so scared; don't ever do that to me again," she cried.

He kissed her head and said, "I'm never leaving either of you." His voice sounded weaker, which made her consider that she might have been hurting him with her weight, so she sat back and wiped away the tears, furiously.

"You battled Ben's scum with such gallantry that it made me prouder than I already was of you, Celeste. Colina-" Celeste cut him off as soon as he took her name.

"Please don't talk to me about her," she insisted. Blayne sighed heavily.

"Celeste, I know you're hurt that she had kept the truth from us but she had her reasons. Try to understand her. She’s your mother after all," he pleaded Colina's case.

Shaking her head, Celeste got up. It was time to leave. "Exactly, she is my mother. We're family, and within families, there are no secrets. She didn't have to tell me, but she shouldn't have concealed it from you. You're mates."

She breathed in deeply, "I will see you again tomorrow, Dad. I love you." Kissing her father's forehead, she squeezed his hand and walked out.

As soon as she stepped out of her father's room, she ran back to her rooms and cried her heart out. She cried for her father's health, her mother's secret, her own lost dignity and everyone their pack had lost.

Everything in her life seemed to have spiralled in the wrong direction. She wished, terribly so, to move the clock counter-clock-wise.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

Xavier had taken over all the responsibilities of the pack just as before, as though he had never left, as though that unfortunate night had never happened. He continuously felt sorry for abandoning his pack. While some of the members had started to trust him again as their alpha, he could notice that some of the members were still wary of him.

However, he had complete faith and support of the half-vampires because he had not only ordered the reconstruction of the previously filthy servant quarters, – now known as Vampires' abode – but he had also commanded every lycan of his pack that any dire behaviour towards the other species would be considered a threat against the pack law and penalty would ensue.

Greta was glad, not only because they were finally back to their lives, but because Elder Zachariah had sent a message earlier in the previous week that although the shifting was still difficult, Elliot was showing fruitful results in his training and that alone was enough to lift Greta's spirits.

Elliot, however, had noticed a lot of changes in himself since he had brutally torn Gavin apart a week ago. What infuriated him, the most, was the fact that shifting had felt like coming home to him, it had resembled the feeling of his face nuzzling against Lea's neck. He didn’t want to let go of that feeling. He hated how thrilling and calming, killing Gavin had made him feel, so much, that for the first time, he had shifted back to his human form as easily as cutting butter with a hot knife.

For the first couple of days, he was put in chains because the people were scared of him. Later, on Elder Zachariah's request, two guards were assigned outside his rooms, for the entire day, who were supposed to escort him wherever Elliot went.

During his daily shifting training, only Elder Zachariah was supposed to be present while the guards were sent for a break. That didn't matter much anymore because Elliot refused to even think of shifting. He still couldn't forget what he'd done to Gavin, how he had shred him into pieces. He couldn't afford to lose control again because if he did, he'd even lose his sanity. For this reason alone, he had been punishing himself by training more than his body could take, inflicting physical harm to his own flesh.

Everyone else in the tribe was treating him as a murderer for which he didn't blame anyone but himself. The tribe members scurried away as soon as they got a whiff of him.

The previous day, when he was returning from his combat training, he heard two patrolling wolves talking and their words wrenched his heart.

"They shouldn't have let him lose; he's a danger to everyone," one wolf had said.

"It's true. What he did to Lloyd, he could do to anyone and we'd not be able to do anything then. He's an insane one, he should be locked up in an asylum," the other one spat, sounding disgusted.

"No, I think the Elders should execute him for such a-" He stopped short when Elliot came into view but Elliot didn't raise his head or glare at them like he normally would have, in his previous life.

Elliot couldn’t tell them but even he wanted the Elders to punish him with death.

One thing wasn't clear, though. Why are the elders protecting me? It's incomprehensible. He kept thinking every time a pang of self-hatred surged through his body.

Currently, Elliot was headed back to his room after the morning training when suddenly a blur of blonde flashed in front of him. A moment later, a blonde wolf lunged at him from out of nowhere, taking him down as his head hit the ground. He, however, did nothing to protect himself from the angry wolf's claws as it scratched his arms and chest. The guards though took it upon themselves to haul the blonde wolf away from Elliot. Without having to see the wolf's human face, he knew it was Gavin's mate.

Elliot stood back up but when the wolf shifted, she lunged again at the killer of her mate, without bothering to cover herself up. Her eyes were puffy and red but held an amount of anger that could bring down wrath upon anyone.

Again, instead of protecting himself, Elliot fell to his knees and did nothing to block the vicious attacks or to defend.

When she realized that Elliot was doing nothing, Gavin's mate stood back and spat at him. "You're pathetic and I hope your life would be so too. I don't want them to give you a painless, easy death and save you from the torture that you'll hereafter feel every day of your life. Gavin's face will haunt you, and so will mine. I only wish no wolf, not even you have to go through the pain of losing a mate." With those cursing words, she turned around; leaving guilt and hatred clawing at Elliot's heart.

Without looking at the crowd of angry wolves that had gathered around, he got up and went back to his quarters.

A lone tear streamed down his face. It didn't, however, match even half of the storm that was whirling inside him.

The torment had already begun.