Phoenix

I remember the first time he slapped me. It happened exactly two days after we got married. It's strange to think back to it, now that I am about to die. It makes the fire that's been burning inside me, burn that much stronger and I start pacing in the low-ceilinged, musty-smelling cell, where they put me to await my death sentence. But I like the feeling. I think I deserve to feel all the rage that I had been trying to smother with flimsy lies and false self-reassurances. I want to be angry and I am. I am livid. If I could release a portion of that anger, this whole world would burn, and him along with it. The thought makes me smile. Yes, I would love to see it, wouldn't I? To see him suffer like that. To see him beg for a way to live. If only, I could get a chance like that, if only... So, anyway, back to my reverie, before I end up being hopeless about all this. He slapped me for the first time on the third day of our marriage, while we were on our honeymoon. It happened all of a sudden. We woke up in each other's arms that day. The sunlight was trickling in from the window of the bedroom of the loft, we were staying in. I remember looking up at him. It seemed as if the sun was shining a spotlight on him, magnifying his every perfection, like he was the main character of a larger-than-life romantic tale. I remember looking at him in awe for a long time, from his incredible copper-coloured hair which shined like ambers in the sunlight, his arrogant brow, his thick lashes hiding his mesmerizing golden eyes to his perfect, straight nose to his full lips. His bottom lip was a bit fuller than his top one and I couldn't kiss them enough. But he's mine now, I thought back then, and I can kiss him whenever I want. My heart swelled with love at this and I couldn't hold back anymore, so I woke him up with a soft kiss on the lips. His eyes fluttered open and he was about to say something but I kissed him again, harder this time. We kissed for a while, with my hands roaming hungrily all over his body, while his remained on my shoulders as if to push me back. And after some time, he did and he was about to say something again, but I dragged him towards me and kissed him again. He pushed me away again and managed to say. "Hey, what's with...." I kissed him again, this time unable to stop myself from giggling. He managed to break himself free and kept me firmly at bay. "Ok, I get it. My princess is in the mood." And with a wicked smile followed by a growl, he climbed on top of me. I only managed to give a yelp of surprise before he captured my lips with his. Things were beyond heated when all of a sudden, his phone pinged with an incoming message. Both of us ignored it. My back was arching with pleasure, and I was biting my lips to hold back my moans. He was breathing heavily against my neck while thrusting into me. His phone pinged again and then started ringing. He looked towards his phone and froze. The ringing stopped after one or two seconds. Suddenly, before I could grab him back, he climbed off me, grabbed his phone and walked towards the bedroom sofa, where he sat down with it. It took me a moment to catch my breath before I got up. "Matt...?" I called him but he was busy typing away and seemed to not have heard me. His face was an unreadable mask. "Matt...!" This time he looked up and as if realizing where he was, smiled at me and said, " It will only take a minute princess..." I couldn't help but feel annoyed. I was naive back then and when he called me princess, I kind of believed I was. "Yeah.... but who is it?" "Just something important, it would really take a minute." He replied busily, while still texting. I was out of bed by now and walking towards him, to snatch his phone. I grabbed it, saying, "Here, let me see what's more important than your______" CRACK! I was on the floor with my right cheek stinging before I could register that I was slapped. By my mate. My one, true love. I turned my head to look at him disbelievingly and saw him growling. His handsome face was transformed at that moment and was replaced by a monster I couldn't recognize. He growled loudly and kicked the table near me. I whimpered and recoiled. And then he left the room. Remembering all this now makes my mouth sour with disgust at my cowardice and my fists clench until I could feel my nails bury into my skin. I should have attacked him, and scratched his face until it was unrecognizable but instead I lay there in a helpless heap, hoping he would go back to normal. Ughhh... I think I would have killed myself now if I could go back to that moment. But sadly, that wasn't the worst thing I did to myself back then. My rage is an erupting volcano by now and I have this urge to howl, but I keep it in and force myself to relive it all. As futile as it may seem now, there's a voice inside me saying that I need to remember and I need to feel, what I should've felt back then. I owe it to myself at least that. Anyway, the worst thing I did, happened a week after that. He spent the rest of our honeymoon, showering me with all the love he could muster while I let him. He became my prince again in those few days and I was relieved. I was silent and recoiled at his touch for a day, and he begged for forgiveness and cried every time. He looked ready to die for me that day, and I couldn't wait to be in his arms, so when he made excuses about not knowing how he could have done this to me and the stress he was feeling to take charge as Alpha of our combined pack. I believed every word. He looked in physical pain when I brought that incident up, so I vowed to never do it. It was the least I could do for my mate, I thought, and maybe part of it was my fault, I should have seen that he was stressed. So, I took part of the blame and forgave him. What happened that day, became a distant nightmare and I couldn't wait to forget it. So, when I came back a week after, as the Luna of our combined pack, and was surrounded by my friends and family who couldn't wait to hear all the details of our time together, I left this little blip out and painted a grand and romantic picture which made them gasp and sigh with envy. And I continued doing it again and again until now. I am feeling that rage again, and it occurs to me just now that I never questioned him about the phone call and the messages for which he slapped me. I never questioned him regarding anything, until it was too late.