I pace my room for the hundredth time, sighing, frustrated and mentally working through the war going off inside of me and end up ‘arghhhing’ out loud in frustration. So over this crap already, and tired of feeling this strung out. I feel like the events of the last few days have changed me in subtle ways and wish I could go back to the before.
Things have not been going well since that day in the pack house, that changed literally everything in my life, and I’m a prisoner in the orphanage until further notice. Under lock and key metaphorically, through pain of death should I disobey.
Colton's father erupted when he realized that being left alone for mere minutes was enough to send his son spiraling into hormonal lust for his new mate, throwing all sense aside and almost marking me. So now we’re forbidden from being near one another indefinitely. His father thinks he can control fate by just refusing to let things run their course. Despite everything the Shaman warned and tried to preach.
Juan is adamant I’ll be the downfall of the Packdom should Colton honor our bond and I god damn hate him for interfering and thinking he can control me in this way. I’m not one of his pack, he has no claim to me or my bloodline, and since I turned, I’m free to leave this stupid mountain, but he won’t let me!
Nothing like this has ever happened before in the history of imprinting, and the Shaman warned of terrible foreboding should we anger the fates and deny something as strong as an imprintation. Juan didn’t care. He only cares about what Juan wants, what the Santo’s need and I’m an annoying little fly in his soup. Not worthy of his son’s attentions or his seed.
My running away plan is pointless, because my soul is now linked to Colton in every way, meaning I’m not allowed to leave Radstone at all. To go off on my own, for fear I endanger the life of their future alpha in my unworthy incapable way in case some terrible mishap befalls me. If I die out there in the big bad world, then so does he.
I mean the Fates did make your mate become inseparable from you for a reason, beyond lust and procreation… the desire to never be parted is as much about survival. The Alpha is meant to protect his femme at all costs, and she is meant to shadow her dominant for life. Always by his side, to watch his back and become an invincible unit. They become one. If one falls, they both fall.
So basically after being screamed at by Carmen until my ears bled, literally, and they still hurt, bullied into a corner by Juan, who threatened to tear me apart and Colton almost took his head off, and then dragged home to house arrest by some of the overly handsy aggressive Santo pack, I’m literally confined to a life inside these walls, with no contact from the person fate decided would be the other half to my soul for an eternity. Everything sucks. Just god damn, all the way to hell and back, sucks!
Happy sucky eighteenth birthday, Alora.
It’s going swell so far.
We’re forbidden from linking, or talking, or seeing one another, and I doubt that will ever change. Bonding is for life and distance won't do very much about it. You cannot sever a bond. You can choose to deny it, ignore it if you can, but Colton has to be the one to reject me, or I will be and currently still am, his mate. He said the words, he verbalized the choice and started to mark me. Juan cannot make that choice for him. He has to say the words to me. I have to hear it from him before it breaks the union we started. Not that it does much in terms of our link, but for his pack, for the code, he can’t have me as his mate and then go back to Carmen without doing this first. One mate… there’s no leeway in that.
It's been agony though, and the Shaman was correct in that denying the bond only makes it worse. I swear, I’ve been dreaming, obsessing, about him since we were pulled apart and I can't sleep or eat for pining for the mate I will never have as long as his father has any say. Even if he made it clear he wants me too. It’s so crazy, given that I didn’t know him at all, and now I know everything about him, can feel him, see him in my mind’s eye and even hear that sexy subtly accented Latino voice of his whenever I want. He’s ingrained on me now.
He's in my head, creating dark unhealable holes in my heart and my entire being feels empty and lost without the other half of me to complete it. His kiss has ruined me in so many ways and I replay those moments until I scream in agony and try to push the taste and feel of him out. I never knew this kind of pain could exist and now I curse the fates for doing this to me. Why they would inflict this kind of uncurable disease, is beyond me. It’s a form of insanity and I am powerless to cure myself, no matter how strong I think I am.
I’m desperate to reach out and link to him, for just one second, to appease my eternal cravings, but as I have heard nothing from him, I’m assuming he too agrees with his father, that for the future of the pack we should have no contact, considering he closed down the head link and I can’t get to him at all. Dreaming about him, smelling his scent on the wind when it blows from the south is driving me crazy and I have no idea how to fix myself while I don’t even know what we are. Held captive, still his mate, yet denied all that goes with it.
The only upside to my turning and finally becoming my true self in all of this, is the physical difference, which shocked me when I finally got home to wash myself free of the grime and blood caking every inch of me. Catching sight in the mirror of the bathroom, it held me still with disbelief as I took myself in slowly and digested the image staring back at me.
The woman before me in the mirror, where a girl once stood, is almost like a stranger to me, yet not. Still Alora in a way, I still recognize myself as me, yet I’m angular, fuller lipped, clearer skinned. My features somehow better without changing too much so I can’t put my finger on the why. My hair’s thicker, fuller, lighter, so that instead of mousy brown, it’s a highlighted caramel with hints of honey, and gorgeous waves. My eyes greener, dazzling almost and my body is toned in places I don't think I could ever improve on. It enhanced, tweaked, and brought me up to par with the already turned walking around this kingdom. No longer plain; I’m desirable, which brings its own problems.
Males in heat circle me whenever I venture down to the kitchen, or out into the courtyard for air. The orphanage still has many who live under this roof, even after turning, who have no desire to leave. I may have imprinted on a mate, but I bear no mark to solidify a union, therefore I’m mateless in their eyes and available, and I need to watch my back. Not all are bound by pack rules in this new era.
Generally, males treat femmes with respect after turning, but not all. Hormones, lack of a mate, and sometimes undirected testosterone levels, all contribute to rogue males with little consideration of punishment when fueled by a need to have sex. We are primal animals, and sex is in our basic everyday makeup once we turn for the first time. I know I’m already suffering for the cravings to be fulfilled. My body yearning for my mate to join with me, until I feel like I may turn inside out with the internal painful pangs for his body. The annoying part is, that no one else will do and I have zero interest in any kind of instant relief with any other male, or any form of self-pleasure, not that I would know how. It’s not been high on my list of priorities in my life.
I’ve become aware, more than ever now, that I am no longer safe in this home when surrounded by unmated males. A lack of a real pack means a lack of protection, and any kind of consequences for a male who brutally takes what he wants. We live in a cruel world, and as an unwanted no one cares about the rejects. Especially not if one reject attacks and violates another. We have no back up.
It doesn’t matter if every single one of them saw me imprint on Colton; it’s public knowledge Juan is denying the bond and I’ve been sent to dwell here to stay away from his son. They know not to kill or maim me, but messing me up a little, doing unspeakable things… his son would recover the pain quickly and not carry the emotional scarring that I would. I’m not safe.
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