Chapter Four The Ache That Had No Name
1078 Words
By nightfall, the pain had settled into his ribs like something that did not belong. It was quiet and patient. It never left there; it was always eating away at him. Every time he breathed, it felt like something was not quite right. Even the air did not seem to fill his lungs the way it should. He felt like he was being slowly squeezed, being suffocated, like everything was tight and congested. For him, everything felt stuck. He thought that if he could just go to sleep, then he would feel a lot better. The pain would probably go away if he could just rest. He wanted the pain in his ribs to stop, so he hoped that sleep would help him feel better.
Sleep did not go as he had hoped. It actually made things worse for him. He was really looking forward to sleeping. Sleep had other plans for him. He had dreams in fact, really vivid ones
He woke up. His heart was beating really fast, he was sweating all over, and he felt this strong need that was scaring him, but he did not know why he was feeling this way. His body strained toward something that wasn’t there. It felt foreign to him because what exactly his body was drawing to.
But it was not Something, it was Someone.
He sat up fast, his hand pushed against his chest.
The bond pulsed. It was like the bond was alive. It was pulsing with some kind of energy. The bond just kept on pulsing.
Once, twice.
And then— Emptiness.
Not relief.
Loss.
The air went out of his body fast. His breath just left him like that.
This is nothing, he said out loud, his voice was rough, in the dark. He was going through withdrawal; it was instinct, he told himself. It will fade, he thought, trying to make himself believe it. He still tried to convince himself that this was all instinct. He still tried to convince himself. It did not.
Days passed and the pain got worse. The ache became sharper. It actually changed from a pain to a really bad throbbing pain. The pain was intense. It was throbbing a lot. The ache that was once dull had become a bad and intense throbbing pain.
He stopped walking. Just stood there because something caught his attention. He had flashes of memories and these were not things he remembered. They felt real. He felt warm like someone was standing next to him. He could even hear someone breathing. For a second, he felt okay. That feeling went away as soon as he thought about it. It was like his mind was doing its thing and he had no say in what he was thinking.
It began to feel like he no longer had control of his mind, his thoughts. He began to hallucinate. He was losing his grip on what was real and what was not. His thoughts were all over the place, and he could not control them; he could not stop them, and this was really scary for him.
At a riverbank, he dropped to one knee without realizing why.
Not in surrender.
In fury.
His eyes got all blurry. Things started spinning around him. His vision. It was really scary.
For one scary moment, he felt her presence; it was like he could sense her he felt her.
Not her body.
Her steadiness.
The feeling was gone in the second. It was ripped away violently, leaving him gasping. The memory of it being taken away like that shook him. The speed of it all was just so crazy. The thing was just gone.
His fingers dug into the dirt. His fingers were really digging into the dirt. The dirt was getting under his fingernails as his fingers dug into the dirt.
What did you do to me? He said out loud, even though he had no idea who he was talking to. He thought about the Moon. He thought about the bond they had. He thought about the girl he had gotten rid of as if she were something he did not need anymore.
There was no answer.
Only hunger.
That night, the dreams came to him. He had these dreams that he could not shake off. The dreams were really something.
They were not romantic nor tender.
In the dreams, she stood with her back to him just out of reach. He called out to her, and when he gave orders, she did not turn around. The bond between them screamed in protest. It was stretched thin, it felt raw, it was furious.
He woke up. He was choking on the echo of her absence. The echo of her absence was really getting to him.
This time, he didn’t pretend it was nothing.
He pressed his forearm to his mouth and bit down hard, grounding himself in pain he understood.
Still, the ache remained.
Low. Constant.
Like starvation.
He realized the truth slowly, unwillingly, as the days wore on and the bond tightened its grip:
She wasn’t suffering.
He was.
The bond wasn’t punishing him for rejecting her. The moon was at him with great vengeance.
It was reminding him of what he no longer had access to.
Her warmth.
Her balance.
Her quiet strength he’d dismissed as weakness.
He had severed nothing from her; the only thing he had succeeded in doing was simply cutting himself off from her. He had only now just begun to realize the extent at to which the damage he had done.
One evening, as the Moon rose pale and distant, the pain peaked—sharp enough to stagger him.
He dropped to his knees.
Not in surrender.
In fury. Because he wondered what and why exactly this was happening. He wasnt supposed to be feeling this way.
His breath came ragged, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
“You don’t get to do this,” he snarled into the empty night. “You don’t get to need me now.”
The bond pulsed back, relentless.
You needed her first.
He froze.
The thought was not words.
It was the truth.
And for the first time since the clearing—since he’d said you are a burden and believed it—
The Alpha felt something c***k open in his chest.
Not remorse.
Not yet.
Fear.
Because he finally understood:
This pain wasn’t the consequence.
It was the beginning.
- Writer
