His H(a)unted Mate

02. Too heavy to carry

CHRISTINE

“Tell me about your day, Christine.” Dr Marie was sitting in her simple grey armchair with her legs crossed, fingers gently resting on her thighs. She was one of those therapists who did not have a notebook and pen in their hands, writing down every small detail a patient mentioned. She would rather record the sessions and focus on me than bury her nose in the notes. I appreciated it. It would creep me out if she flinched after every sentence I produced and eagerly wrote the diagnosis on the paper. I preferred to be judged later once the door closed behind me.

“There isn’t much to tell.” I sighed, piercing the ceiling with my gaze. I rested on the sofa of Dr Marie’s consulting room, but the corner of my eye was still able to catch her silhouette. She wore glasses although she did not need them. She called it a habit because she used to be a human once. Werewolves had a great ability to heal most of their injuries, most of the deficiencies. Yet there were some which could have never been healed.

I didn’t want to tell her about my day. Ever since I got transferred to Golden Meadows clinic, the routine was about the same day by day. I spent the majority of time hidden in my room, wrapped in a blanket. I rarely talked to other people, usually it was just staff who approached me with some questions. I didn’t have many visitors either.

“Your friend came back home and alive. That must be something worth talking about.” Right. Hannah was back. I thought she died that unfortunate night. I thought I was the only survivor of the horrible rogue attack. Luckily, she managed to escape all that danger, which couldn’t have been said about me. I could still hear the desperate screams, among them my own. Flesh being torn, bones being cracked, feral howls announcing all those beasts feasting on innocent people. I closed my eyes and shook off the vile memory. It haunted me. It was still very vivid no matter how hard I tried to push it away from my mind. I just couldn’t. Hannah was lucky to get away on time.

“Yes. I am happy Hannah’s well.” I said, the words having a bittersweet taste on my tongue. I would never have wished her any harm, of course. But still, part of me dreamed of walking in her shoes.

“Happy. That is the first time you are mentioning such a word.” Dr Marie remarked. It was true. Ever since I started with this therapy, positive words could have been counted with a single hand only. It’s been more than four months since my arrival at this clinic.

“It’s overrated. It’s just what people usually say in such moments.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“And yet you chose it. To me it seems like a real feeling, not just a random choice of words.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. She sensed the doubt in my voice. She had me scanned from in and out already, seeing directly in my head. Dr Marie was the best in her field. She knew exactly how to deal with traumatized people, and she was making progress with me as well. When I first came here, I refused to talk. I couldn't stand anyone to touch me, neither men nor women. Every minor physical contact freaked me out and they had to sedate me to calm me down. It took Dr Marie many weeks till I answered one of her questions. Till I opened up a little.

“I think it’s good that you reunited with your best friend. It’s important to have people in our lives who always have our backs. Don’t you think?”

“She didn’t have my back when it all happened.” I huffed in annoyance. No one had my back that night. I was solely on my own, facing those demons which would never ever leave me again. They stuck around, crawling back during my sleep, baring their rotten teeth at me, hungry for another piece of me, drooling over the last fragile parts of my sanity.

“Do you blame her?” The question was rather simple. Did I blame Hannah? After all, she was the one who dragged me to that secret party because she wanted to hook up with her ex-boyfriend. But she couldn’t possibly know we would get attacked by a large group of rogues.

“No. Not at all. It’s not her fault.” I meant those words. I didn’t blame my best friend.

“Then how do you see the whole situation?” Dr Marie pushed me forward. With each session, she tried her luck a bit more, digging more deeply into my trauma. Forcing me to express my emotions aloud.

“Unfair.”

“Unfair how?”

“I… I think I envy Hannah that her life turned out to be so perfect while mine is a living hell.” Hannah’s life wasn’t a walk on rose petals either. She had a rough start with her mate, and they had to fight a lot of evilness. But they did that together. She had someone to rely on, to support her, while I was alone.

“Is it hell though? You live. You survived.” Right. I survived. I should consider myself lucky, however I didn’t. What kind of life was ahead of me? I didn’t see my future brightly.

“Perhaps it would be better if I hadn’t.” The darkness had spoken. I had those thoughts for some time. Vanishing from this world, turning into dust. Wouldn’t that be a solution to all my problems?

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Sad? Angry?” There was more to it. Rage flowed through me like molten lava. Raw anger pulsated in my veins, seeking vengeance. But there was no one to be punished for the crimes. Who would have tracked back the rogue who attacked me? That rogue who ripped my limb off? Why could others enjoy love and joy while I had to suffer?

“You have every right to feel that way. What else do you feel? Tell me more.” Dr Marie straightened her back, watching me with the utmost curiosity. I turned my gaze to her, meeting the goodness of her eyes.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Dr Marie. I’m sorry.” I whispered, feeling how my voice got stuck in my throat. The nightmares were back. The demons wished to make their claim on me again. I saw it in front of my eyes. The wolf's paws pressing me to the ground, canines digging into my flesh, hot tongue tasting my blood.

I cried. I cried every single session with Dr Marie. She rushed to me, squeezing my only hand gently.

“That’s alright. You don’t need to be ashamed of your tears. Crying is a cleaning of a soul, Christine, a rebond with your vulnerable self, a chance to realize what suffering and pain are for you. For others.”

“Others don’t understand me.”

“No. They don’t. They have their own problems which they’re struggling with. Something you may define as easy to solve from your perspective. But each one of us is a unique individual, swimming in a pool of dilemmas, fears, pain. Some are able to swim alone, whilst others need a helping hand or precise instructions on how to swim. What do you need, Christine? What do you think can make you see the world as a better place?”

What was it I truly wanted in my life? If I had a chance to change the way my life turned out, what would I do?

“Rewind time. Prevent horrors from happening!” I stated firmly.

“How?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at her. How?! Sometimes her questions made zero sense.

“I don’t know! I just want my old life back! I want to be normal.” I burst out angrily, feeling how frustration filled the air of Dr Marie’s consultation room. She stood up and walked behind her desk. When she came back, she handed me a pocket mirror.

“There is nothing abnormal about you, Christine. Look at yourself and tell me what you see.” I used to like watching myself in a mirror. I always thought I was a pretty female. My almond skin was smooth, even during the highest peak of puberty. My face was symmetrical, and my hair was always healthy in volume, silky to touch despite being frizzy. I had an athletic body. I used to be a swimmer. But that was before. I didn’t see myself as a beauty anymore. I angled the mirror down to my neck and shoulder.

“A defect,” I replied, furrowing brows at my own reflection.

“Well, I see a kind young woman whose life has just started. I see the beauty of the soul. I see a fighter who does not want to give up yet. What is it that you value about yourself?”

“I… I don’t know.” I sat up, giving her the mirror. I didn’t want to look at myself any further.

“OK. Imagine that someone gives you a magic box that contains everything you ever dreamed of and everything you lost in your life. What would be the first thing you’d search for?” She tried to change perspective. I narrowed my eyes at her. Because the answer was more than obvious.

“My arm.” She did not react. The silence started to be awkward and forced me to cut it somehow. To end it with additional words. “I still feel it sometimes. There’s that itching or stinging feeling which makes you wanna scratch yourself. But when I reach for it, I touch only plain air, and I realize it’s no longer there. My brain plays tricks with me.”

“It’s called phantom limb pain. It’s a response of your body to mixed signals from the brain. It will eventually go away, once you accept that this is who you are now. Once you stop hiding. We spoke about group therapy last time. Did you give it any thought?” Group therapy. Ugh. I was in no mood for that. She had tried to convince me a couple of times already, but I was not interested in all those curious eyes following me. Starving because they couldn’t feed on recent gossip, on my misery.

“I don’t like those stares. I don’t like stupid questions to be raised by some nutjobs.”

“You can just listen. Observe. See how others deal with their pains.” She suggested. She wouldn’t give me a break, would she? I gave up.

“OK. I can try one session.”

“Good!” She clasped her hands with enthusiasm, ignoring my frown. “Nurse told me you were wandering the halls of the clinic last night.”

“It’s not forbidden, is it?” I asked hesitantly. There was a reason why I preferred walking during the night hours. It was quiet, it was deserted.

“It’s not. She said you talked to someone. Who was it?” Instinctively, I grabbed my blanket and covered my upper body. It was ridiculous because I hadn’t used it in Dr Marie’s presence for more than a month already. Still, it was like my shield. It provided safety and it helped me suppress a panic attack.

“Some other patient, I guess. Never met him before.” I lowered my head, drilling a hole into the beige carpet with my eyes.

“It was a man though.” She pointed out, and I wrapped the blanket more tightly around my shoulders. Damn, that nosey nurse! Did she have to tell on me?

“Yes.” I breathed out, feeling like my forehead pushed tiny drops of sweat out of skin pores.

“And you didn’t panic. Why is that?” Yeah, why was that? I did panic actually. Shortly before he tried to kiss me.

I replayed the scene in my head. I let the stranger cross the safe borders of my comfort zone. I let his fingers softly brush against my cheek, his lips touching mine lightly and making unfamiliar tingles rise inside me. He smelled so good, and his voice was luring me to his embrace, as if I was a greedy child being offered lollipops and candy. I could still feel the soothing warmth which radiated from his extremely well-built body. He was drop dead gorgeous. Way out of my league. But there was something more to him. In a way, he and I had certain things in common.

“I… I think he was different. Like me. Does it make sense?”

“Not really. Can you explain?” Ah, Dr Marie. Always forcing me to speak.

“He seemed like someone fighting his own battles. He seemed like a lonely person. An outcast. I don’t know. I don’t know the guy, so it’s hard to define him.” And it was hard to forget him. Under different circumstances, I would definitely try my luck. Even if it was for a single night only. He was like the wildest dream, every girl’s fantasy. He had scars on his body, and it made him look dangerous, brutal even. But as bizarre as it was, I didn’t mind. I was the last person in the universe to judge someone by his appearance, right? In my eyes, he looked just perfect.

“What did you talk about?”

“He… He was nice to me. But he didn’t see the real me. I am sure he would run for the hills as soon as he learned I was just a cripple.” The anger stirred within me again. It wasn’t fair! Why did it have to be me dealing with such a handicap? I was so pissed at the whole universe, at the Moon Goddess, the fates, at everyone and everything. Just why me?!

“You just said you didn’t know the guy. So how can you be so sure?”

“I am not. Damn, Dr Marie! You are confusing me.”

“Sorry. I only wanted to point out that we tend to make false assumptions while, in fact, the truth could lie somewhere else. Don’t stress your mind with all those what ifs. It’s not always black or white, Christine. Some people may surprise you in a positive way.”

I scoffed at that. Right. As if anyone wanted to bond with a broken and incomplete person. My wolf Astra already told me the same. That I should be open-minded, that I should try to enjoy my life because this was my second chance. But Astra was naïve. She had those illusions in her head that we would once find our mate. I was more than sure that if that had ever happened, the so-called mate would immediately reject me. A single stare at the disabled person with emotional trauma was enough to make a decision. Such baggage was just too heavy to be carried.