The Breaking Point.
1105 Words
Then suddenly, his hands froze. Without warning, he pushed me away hard. I lost my breath. My legs gave out. I fell hard on the cold floor. A sharp sting flared in my right hip.
Damon’s breathing was heavy and ragged, like he was fighting himself. I swallowed hard, warmth leaving me replaced by icy fear.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean—” I added quickly, “I don’t know what came over me.”
In the quiet, a question tore through me: What have I done?
Damon stayed still for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned his head and looked into my eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, voice getting rough. “But this… this can’t happen.”
His words hit me harder than his push. I felt so ashamed. I wished the ground would swallow me.
“I didn’t mean to… I just…” My voice broke in shame. Then Damon moved a little and stormed out.
I sighed sharply and stood slowly. I swiftly touched my belly. Nothing happened. It suddenly felt warm and safe.
Hah!
My wolf protected this child. I wrapped my arms around my belly, feeling relief and the power of my wolf.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whispered. I moved to the couch and sat for a while.
What did I just do? I’m going crazy because Gifford isn’t here. Why did I do that to him?
After that moment with Damon, I needed to get away. I went to the bathroom and let warm water run over me, hoping it would wash away the fire inside. The steam filled the room, but it couldn’t hide the sharp memory of his lips on mine.
Later, I ate some food, but it tasted flat, like my mouth wasn’t really there. My mind kept going back to him, to that reckless kiss. I ate slowly, hoping it would help me forget, but it didn’t.
I turned on the TV and flipped through channels, searching for anything to pull my thoughts away. But the noise just filled the silence. No matter what I watched, I couldn’t escape that moment.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. Every breath reminded me of his scent mixed with mine, how his hands felt on my waist.
I wanted to forget, but I couldn’t.
I finally turned off the TV and sat in the quiet. The living room felt colder, and the ache in my chest grew. I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to hold myself together.
My heart and mind were fighting. My wolf was confused and restless, screaming for something I didn’t understand.
I stood up slowly, my body sore from the fall and from everything inside me. I needed someone. Anyone. To quiet the chaos for a moment. Without thinking, I walked toward Gifford’s room.
The door was slightly open, just like always. I nuzzled it and slipped inside. Gifford sat by the window, his back to me, lost in dark thoughts.
I said nothing at first. I just sat beside him, close enough to feel his warmth.
For a while, we didn’t speak. The silence was heavy but comforting.
I touched my belly for a moment as I got up, lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. This room didn’t smell like him anymore. A month had passed. He didn’t come home. When he did, he left quietly. No one knew where he went.
I'm going insane. My imaginations are beyond repair.
I remembered Damon’s words about Gifford’s birth pack. What did that mean?
I didn’t want to think anymore. What was I doing? I stood up and rushed out of his room. I hurried down the stairs, moving fast. If Gifford didn’t come home, I’d go to his office. He had to explain himself.
Halfway there, tears filled my eyes. When I stepped outside, I stopped completely. I broke down and knelt on the ground. My knees touched the cold stone steps, and I felt so small.
So lost.
Why am I so weak and stupid? This isn’t who I am. Why do I always have to rely on others before I can do a single thing in my life?
Can’t I just stand up and do whatever the hell I want?
Gifford always hurts me. It never stops. He’s always like this. He will never change. Am I his slave? A puppet he locks away and only comes home to when he’s bored?
Why did I follow him here? Wouldn't being a rogue have been better for me? I can’t do anything on my own. I’m so useless. Everyone was right. Omegas are worthless. I slammed my fists down in rage, roaring and screaming.
Why can’t I stand on my own? Must I always be under some alpha to survive? I can’t even tell my mate to come home?
I’m hopeless. Useless.
I have no one to talk to. No one to share this pain with. f**k! This is all my fault. I put myself in this mess.
I should have left everyone behind.
I should have aborted this baby.
“MISS BRAILA!”
The workers panicked, rushing toward me. “Miss Braila!”
My chest heaved, breaths fast. Then it exploded out of me. A long, raw scream that tore through the air and shook the ground beneath my knees.
I finally regained consciousness to find everything around me was ruined.
Everyone lay unconscious.
I panicked, trembling as I slowly got up from the ground.
The day I left the Bratvas Clan, I should have died.
I stared at the surrounding wreckage, the fallen bodies. My hands trembled uncontrollably, the weight of my failures crushing down harder than ever before.
Why couldn’t I protect them?
Why couldn’t I protect myself?
But how could I stand when every part of me shattered?
The workers’ faces hovered at the edge of my vision, wide-eyed and terrified. Their voices trembled as they called my name, but I couldn’t meet their eyes.
I was drowning in a storm of self-loathing and despair. Every choice I’d made clawed at me like a merciless beast, following Gifford, staying silent, hoping for something that never came.
Why did I think I could survive in this world on his terms? A bitter laugh escaped me, hollow and broken. I sank down to my knees again, clutching my belly as if holding onto some fragile thread of sanity.
“Breathe.” I heard my wolf inside me. “You are getting out of control, Braila.”
- Writer
