Jacky’s POV
Branches clawed at my arms and legs as I tore through the forest, breath hitching in short, frantic bursts. My feet stumbled over roots and rocks, barely finding my footing before I forced myself forward again. Every step took me deeper into the woods, the shadows stretching around me, but there was no escape-only a blind, desperate dash as the sounds of snapping branches and heavy paws thundered closer behind me.
A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees, sending a chill down my spine so fierce it was as if winter itself had wrapped around me. I didn’t dare look back, but the presence behind me was like a heavy weight bearing down on my shoulders, pushing me faster, pressing me into the ground with the force of sheer, unstoppable hatred.
Suddenly, his voice flooded my mind, cold. *”Run all you like, Jacky. But it won’t matter. They’ll suffer, each and every one you love. You’ll watch, helpless, as I make them pay.”*
The words ripped through me, freezing my blood. It wasn’t Roman-it was his wolf, speaking through a mind-link that I hadn’t even known existed. His voice was different, deeper, dripping with malice and something darker. And as his words slithered through my mind, I felt a shuddering wave of emotions not my own-sorrow so vast it felt like drowning, rage so ferocious it was tearing me apart from the inside.
The wolf’s grief slammed into me with the force of a hammer, stealing my breath. It was a pain so raw and endless it clawed at the edges of my sanity. I could feel it sinking into my bones, pressing into my chest until every beat of my heart echoed with the rhythm of his agony. It was as though someone had reached into my soul and twisted, pulling me into a world of suffering I didn’t understand but was somehow condemned to feel.
*”You did this to us,”* his voice snarled, reverberating through my skull like a death knell. Each word was a blade slicing into my mind, and each cut drove me closer to the edge of reason. His grief overwhelmed me, spreading through my veins like poison, seeping into every corner of my being.
Why was this happening? Why could I feel his pain?
I screamed, doubling over as I ran, clutching my head, desperate to block out his voice, his agony. But the link between us was unbreakable, unyielding, and every attempt to shut him out only pulled me deeper into his emotions. I could feel his claws raking through me from the inside out, tearing through flesh and bone, leaving only raw, exposed nerve endings that pulsed with his endless, bottomless pain.
*”You took everything from me!”* he roared, the sound of his voice rattling through my mind, shaking me to my very core. I could feel his hatred-hot, all-consuming, an inferno burning away every scrap of reason I had left. It wasn’t just anger. It was vengeance, pure and seething, an ancient fury that had been waiting, festering, growing stronger with each passing year.
I stumbled, the ground spinning beneath me as his sorrow melded with my own. It was as if he’d torn open my soul and forced me to bear the weight of his torment, dragging me down into a darkness so deep I couldn’t see the way out. Grief twisted through me, a visceral, wrenching ache that sank its claws into my heart and refused to let go. I felt as if I’d been gutted, stripped of everything that had ever meant anything, left alone in a wasteland of loss and despair.
My scream tore through the forest, echoing back at me as if the trees themselves had joined in my anguish. It was too much-his pain was too vast, too unbearable, a tidal wave crashing over me, suffocating me, drowning me in sorrow so thick it was impossible to breathe. I clawed at my chest, desperate to rip the feeling out, but it was inside me, embedded in every cell, every thought.
*”You did this to us,”* he whispered again, the words soft now, more dangerous in their quiet venom. His sorrow shifted, morphing into a cold, calculating rage that chilled me to the bone. I felt his hatred settle around me like chains, tightening, pulling me down into the depths of his bitterness. The taste of his vengeance coated my tongue, bitter and metallic, like blood. It was a weight I couldn’t lift, a shadow I couldn’t escape.
I stumbled again, my legs giving out as the sorrow bled into something even darker-a void, an emptiness that gnawed at the edges of my sanity. It was a black hole, pulling me in, and I knew that if I fell, there would be no return. His pain would consume me, swallow me whole, leave nothing but ashes where I had once stood.
I tried to scream, to force the words out, but they lodged in my throat, choked by the weight of his despair. I could feel his memories, fractured and broken, flashes of a life lost, of betrayal and blood and suffering beyond words. Each image was a jagged piece of glass slicing into my mind, embedding itself deep, leaving wounds that would never heal.
*”You will know my pain,”* he growled, the promise heavy with the darkness that seeped from him. His sorrow poured into me, a relentless torrent that stripped away everything I was, everything I’d ever cared about. I felt hollow, empty, as if he’d scooped out my insides and replaced them with his grief, his rage, his need for revenge.
*”You took it all,”* he whispered, his voice like a knife scraping against bone, relentless and cold. *”And now, you’ll pay. Your suffering will be my retribution.”*
I could feel his satisfaction, the dark pleasure he took in my pain, and it twisted inside me like a knife, making my stomach churn, my vision blur. It was a sick, twisted joy that fed on my anguish, growing stronger with each sob, each desperate, broken scream. He wanted this-wanted me to break, to crumble, to fall into the same darkness that had claimed him.
I’d never felt pain like this. His voice echoed through my mind, I felt myself slipping, my grip on reality loosening. I was losing myself, sinking into the sea of his emotions, drowning in his sorrow, his rage, his hatred. It was a bottomless pit, and there was no end, no relief, only the endless, aching despair that gnawed at my soul.
*”You did this to us,”* he repeated, the words a relentless mantra that echoed through my mind, hollow and haunting. Each repetition was a blow, a hammer against the fragile walls of my sanity. His voice wrapped around me pressing in from all sides, leaving me no room to breathe, no space to think. I felt like I was going mad.
I screamed again, the sound tearing from my throat in raw, unfiltered agony, but it did nothing to ease the pain, nothing to stop the relentless tide of emotions that crashed over me, pulling me under. I was lost, adrift in a storm of grief and rage that was not my own, yet felt as real, as visceral as any pain I had ever known.
His laughter echoed in my mind, cold and mocking, and I felt his satisfaction, his cruel delight in my suffering. He was enjoying this-relishing my pain, my helplessness, my fear. It was his revenge, his justice, and he would make sure I felt every second of it.
And as his laughter faded into the darkness, I knew that there was no escape. I was his to torment, his to break, and he would not stop until I had paid for sins I could not remember, crimes I did not understand.
*”You did this to us,”* he said one last time. With those words, darkness took me, pulling me down to what I assumed was my hell.