Abandoned Revenge

Chapter 8. Kayl

I stood in my chambers alone, the hall long emptied, the red light of the Moon fading behind the high windows with thick bars, leaving only the dim flicker of torches on the stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows on the floor covered with thick pelts of slain beasts—bears and wolves from old hunts. My body burned from the inside—the bond scorched in my chest constantly, like an open wound throbbing with every heartbeat, pain spreading slowly through veins, forcing muscles to tense involuntarily, skin to prickle with heat, sweat beading on my back and temples. Her scent—rain after a storm and wild herbs—had embedded deep in my skin, in my blood, in my mind, not releasing for a moment, penetrating lungs with every breath, causing a pull that burned stronger than contempt, stronger than rage from the public rejection. The wolf inside growled louder, impatiently, demanding to find, take, mark roughly to silence this pain, to establish full control, to make her know—she's mine. My fist still bled from the strike against the wall—drops dark in the dim light on the floor, pain in knuckles pleasant, distracting for a moment, but insufficient to fully silence the bond. I clenched it tighter, blood flowing faster down fingers, warm, sticky, scent of metal mixing with my heavy campfire smoke and pine needles, intensifying rage.

The door creaked quietly—Damian entered without knocking, his steps light, almost silent over the pelts, scent of fresh wind and mint filling the room instantly, contrasting my thick smoke like false lightness against my heaviness. Twenty-seven years old, light hair neatly combed back, green eyes with that signature charming smile always hiding more than it showed, body athletic, relaxed in appearance, but I knew—calculation in every movement. My beta. Friend from childhood, closest. But today—irritation from him too, like from everything distracting from the bond's pain, from the pull down to the dungeon.

He stopped in the doorway, heavy pause, gaze sliding to my hand—blood on fist, drops on floor, then to my face, eyes narrowing slightly.

“My lord,” he said quietly, voice even but with subtext, pause so I felt his presence fully. “The pack whispers in corridors and yards. You rejected publicly—loudly, decisively, before all. Everyone saw your strength. Control preserved perfectly. But the bond... it doesn't tear so simply, right? I smell her on you. Weak, but persistent, like a brand that won't erase.”

I didn't turn immediately—stood by window, looking at dark yard where guard patrolled in fog, their torches flickering far, fist clenched tighter, pain in knuckles intensifying, blood dripping on sill, warm on cold stone.

“It tears if I want,” I replied coldly, voice low, growling on edge, heavy pause so words hung. “Omega—pure mistake. Weakness. Shame for throne. I won't let her break me. Never.”

Damian approached closer, steps quiet over pelts, stopped a step behind, mint scent mixing with my smoke, energy deceptively light, but I felt—calculation in every word, in pause.

“Mistake?” he repeated, voice soft but with light mockery, calculated pause to sink in. “Your wolf growls differently, Kayl. I hear even from corridor. Her scent on you—like brand, my lord. Doesn't release, burns. Maybe kill quietly? In cell. Deep night. No one know. I'll do myself—clean, no trace. Pack forget shame in day. You—free.”

I turned sharply—gaze piercing, wolf flaring rage fully, body tensing, step closer to him, energy pressing, air thickening around us like before strike.

“No,” I cut, voice like loud growl, heavy pause, eyes into his so he felt weight. “She's mine. Mistake—but my property. Secretly. No one touch. Not you. Not anyone.”

Damian didn't retreat immediately, eyes narrowed, smile wider but colder, pause so words sank deeper.

“Yours?” he said quietly, voice with strong subtext, pause. “Publicly rejected—loudly so pack saw strength, so Selena triumphed. And secretly keep in cell? Like toy for night? Bond break you, Kayl. Slowly, from inside. Her scent on you—already trace pack smell sooner or later. Kill—clean. No pain for you. No risk.”

I stepped even closer—body taller, broader, energy pressing fully, wolf growling loud inside, smoke scent intensifying, thick, choking.

“Silence, Damian,” I growled, voice low, vibrating, pause so fear gripped him. “Order. She's my property. Secretly. While I decide. Not your business advise. Or doubt.”

Damian raised hands in submission slowly, but smile remained, eyes cold, calculating, flashed hidden.

“As you say, alpha,” he said softly, long pause. “Your will. But if change mind—I nearby. Always. For pack.”

He left—door closed quietly, steps fading in corridor, leaving me with scorching bond.

I remained alone again. Bond burned stronger—her pain echoing in my chest throbbing, distant sobs but audible to wolf sharply, pulling down to dungeon like chain. Body burned with heat, wolf demanding—find, take, mark roughly to ease this pull, to return control fully.

Night fell completely—Moon hidden behind clouds, shadows thick in corridors, torches hissing quietly. I left chambers—guard bowed heads instantly, their fear scent intensifying from my energy, bodies freezing. My steps heavy over stone, down stairs to dungeon—colder with every step, damper, scent of mold and lowers' fear thick, pressing.

Cell door—iron, cold to touch, rusty in places. Guards opened—without words, heads lowered low, keys clanging.

She inside—on straw in corner, white dress dirty from floor and tears, body curled in ball, knees to chest, trembling all over noticeable, tears on cheeks dried salty tracks, eyes red, lowered, breathing ragged. Scent—her fear thick, bond pain, but pull echoing mine like mirror.

I entered—door closed behind with iron clang, echoing dungeon, heavy pause so she felt approach fully, so fear intensified, so bond burned us both stronger.

She froze, body curled tighter, eyes raised slowly—gray, full of horror and pain, new tears running down cheeks.

“Please...” she whispered, voice broken, trembling, pause, body scooted back on straw. “No... rejected... why...”

I approached closer—steps slow, heavy, pause between so she felt space shrinking, control mine. Stopped over her, gaze from above down, piercing, long pause.

“You—mistake,” I said low, voice like growl, pause. “But mine.”

She sobbed, body trembling stronger, eyes lowered.

“Pain... bond... please...”

I bent—hand grabbed hair in braid roughly, yanked head back, neck exposed, skin pale in dim light. Her scent—closer, stronger, wolf growled.

“Silence,” I growled, pause, eyes into hers. “You're my property. Secretly.”

Bit neck roughly—teeth sinking into skin sharply, deeply, blood on lips warm, salty, taste of her fear and pull mixed, secret mark deep to hold forever, to know—mine, despite rejection.

Her cry—pure pain, body arching up, hands clutching my shirt weakly, nails scratching fabric, tears flowing stronger, sobs ragged, body in light convulsion from pain and bond.

“No... please...” she sobbed, voice broken. “Why... rejected... and now...”

I didn't respond—pause, teeth released, blood on lips, mark throbbing red.

My departure—cold, without word, without backward glance, door slamming, her cry and sobs echoing behind, in head, in bond.