Ophelia The Omega

(OPHELIA) I had a phobia once, called Necrophobia. The fear of death, or in some cases, the fear of dying. But here. Right now. I welcome it, crave it like oxygen to fire. “SAY IT, O!!” A familiar looking man growls. The man stands before me in all his 6 foot 2 inch glory, sculpted to perfection by the Great Wolf above, with golden hair that could make the statues in Rome weep. But he isn't just any man, he is my best friend, the one whom fate forced me to love, my husband. . . my mate. I cringed, locking my gaze on his beautiful blue eyes. They are wide and hungry for my pain as his boot comes down, connecting with my lower jaw. My ear splits as a thundering c***k rings my skull. I feel a painful sting snap my head back upon impact. The pain is so intense, it’s almost burning. The searing hot white pain blurs my vision, causing my balance to falter, even so, on these weak knees.. Copper-tinged saliva floods my mouth and I try to spit it out. Only to sense it, as it oozes from the corners of my mouth. Shit. . . My jaw is broken. I can’t even pout my lips to spit. Instead my bodily fluids overflow and leaks over my bottom lip. My head automatically moves back and forth out of habit, shaking some sense back into my thick skull. A reflex to stay calm, and alert, because I’ve been in this position before. . . Many times. I lean forward and watch as crimson saliva spills out in front of me. Waiting hopelessly for his soothing, apologetic touch for losing his temper. . . But, it never comes and I believe this blow of his recoiled affection hurts more than my broken jaw. The endless pain I endured at his hands in the soundproof walls of our bedroom is now for public display. As per usual he has taken all the pleasure for himself, the greedy thing. I suppose it’s all for show, as I’m kneeling before the council and In front of our entire house pack, correction, his pack now. I fix my gaze on him, pleading with my eyes for him to end my suffering. But I doubt he can see it past the swelling from tears and bruises I’ve accumulated this past week. I can barely move, barely breathe. “SAY IT!” he shouts again. I flinch. All that I am able to make is guttural moans. How does he expect me to utter the words with the broken jaw he just gifted me? I am not a weak by any means, but his guards starved and beat me within an inch of my life before bringing me before my mate, The Alpha of House VaLore. One of the most feared and ruthless packs of the western states. I moved my head back and forth in a NO response. He may think whatever he wants, but I am no liar. I won’t admit to something I did not do. My silent defiance has always been an issue with him and now. . . Now he can do whatever he wants without fear of his precious reputation being tarnished. He will use pack law as his excuse to abuse me to no end, even as his mate. My stomach flips with a new sensation. As if reading my thoughts, he leans over me. “You give me no choice, my love.” He sneers. “As, allegations presented to the council, I the Great Alpha of House VaLore, find you, Octavia Night, guilty of the following charges.” Pain squeezes my heart as he uses my maiden name with such distain. He takes a step closer. “Treason against your own pack, and Murder of a Highborn VaLoreian Wolf, Genevieve LeBlanc.” I wince and let out a whimper of pain as he grabs a handful of my tattered midnight hair. Exposing my neck, forcing me to lock eyes with empty blue ones. No remorse, no sadness reflected in them. Did he ever care for me? The thought causes a knot to form in my throat. I swallow hard. “I- I-I d-didn’t. . .” I tried to sputter past my broken jaw, struggling for breath, but I was immediately cut off by my mate. Causing the ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach to flare back up. “I, Liam VaLore,” his cold stare burns through me and into my chest. “Reject you, Olivia Vander-Night, as House VaLore’s Luna, and as my mate.” An earth-shattering scream tears through the tension in the stone temple. Bouncing off the walls and echoing to the ceiling and back, piercing my ears. It takes a moment to realize the noise is coming from me. The pain is unimaginable. Coursing from my chest to every nerve in my entire being. Like being set on fire. This frail body Begins to shake and convulse uncontrollably. Wreaking havoc and hell into my skin, bones, and my very soul. Cracking and breaking the bond to my mate that could have saved me, healed me. Soft sobs emit from the female chained next to me, the scene before her too much to bare. Because she knows she is next. I find the shaking female, head buried in her hands, tears pouring down her once rosy cheeks. Don’t cry friend, I want to say, but I have no strength to move or breathe. I can only lift a finger towards her as I have no will too live. I don’t fight as the head warriors effortlessly hoist my lifeless body up, I’m practically just a flesh bag of broken bones now. All I hear are the deep murmurs of the Moon Priest as I’m hauled towards the natural spring, front, and center of the temple. I take his words as my last rite. “O Great benevolent Wolf above. . . Take this angel with broken wings. This poor woman, wolf, and fiend. Take her before our ancient kings, to cleanse her sins, wolf, and all.” He chants soothingly as if this were another monthly Moon Mass. A whimper escapes my lips as the warriors heave me up, putting pressure on my already broken ribs, as they toss me into the cold still water. I gasp. . . It's freezing, but alleviates some of the pain. The priests muffled voice becomes more muddled to a quiet hum as I’m swallowed up by the temple spring. Eyes blown wide as I fall deeper and deeper into the bottom of the spring. It’s so quiet here, under the surface. They say your whole life flashes before your eyes, but they are wrong. I see nothing, no childhood memories, no precious moments I will forever miss. Just undiluted pain in its purest form and regret. I regret every action I have ever taken that ended me here. My lungs scream for oxygen, but my arms fail to move. I concentrated on one of the last thoughts that would ever run through my head with my true name. ‘I Octavia Night, accept Liam VaLore’s rejection as Luna and mate.' Before filling my lungs with fresh spring water, I let out the bitter morphed emotion that settled in the pit of my stomach, that i now recognize as pure anger. I yell with fury, rage, and let my wrath consume me in my final moments before painfully inhaling the cold dark water. I choke. My body fights against the lack of oxygen, the corner of my vision begins to feather and fade to black as spots dance before my eyes. ‘Great Wolf Above,’ I pleaded in my head, fighting to stay conscious. ‘may your justice prevail, may those truly responsible pay for their transgressions.’ Finally, I clench my eyes, relax my body and let the darkness take me.