My chest felt like twenty-pound weights were laying there. My head was pounding from the constant crying and my eyes were burning. I felt the desire, the need to find my release, but I had no tools and my nails weren’t very dangerous.
‘Clock.’
‘Break the clock and cut.’
( ‘Violet, no.’ )
‘Break.’
‘The.’
‘Clock.’
‘Cut.’
My mark burned when I rolled over and grabbed the clock, throwing it on the ground. It thudded and made a cracking sound so I reached and threw it down again. Agonizing seconds passed by while I waited for the clock to smash.
Once it did, I pulled up off the bed, not able to be seen from the door, crouching down to find the sharpest piece before slumping down.
( ‘Violet, don’t do this. Stop. Derek told you-‘ )
‘Ugh, shut the fuck up!’
‘Let’s go!’
‘Cut!’
I blocked out Sage, let out a shaky break, undid the previous bandages, and began to slide it across my wrist. My mark pricked in pain and I sped up the cutting, altering between my wrists.
I’ll be perfect.
Like the girls he wants.
‘You’re the definition of imperfect.’
‘He wants blondes, not you.’
I heard footsteps banging down the hallway, a sob escaped my lips as I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t in my headspace, I couldn’t control this.
Blood coated my forearms, dripping on the sweater and jeans. The sound of the door flying open didn’t break my concentration.
I dug the makeshift dagger in my skin, but I could feel it getting dull.
“Violet!” a voice yelled.
I continued to cut.
Brown shoes stood in front of my black ones. My hands were pried from each other with a hard grip. My head spun as I felt him grab under my arms and hauled me into the bathroom.
“N-no,” I whispered weakly and he shushed me.
My head started to get fuzzy as he set me on the sink counter, running water, grabbing a towel, and applied pressure to my wrists to fix them. My wrists were numb and sizzling.
He stood between my legs and I whimpered as my headache increased. I put my head in Derek’s shoulder, my tears wetting his shirt. He opened the cabinet with his foot, pulling it up to the counter, barely moving me.
He pulled out his phone and barked some orders then he set me against the bare wall where the mirror would’ve been, and stepped out of the room. My eyesight was blurry and my wrists lazily laid at my sides, the towels sitting over them.
He came back in with a short-sleeved nightshirt and some pants.
“Do you sleep with a bra?” he asked in his crisp tone. I shook my head ‘no’ and he pulled me to him. “Violet, listen. I’m not going to look, but I’m taking off your bra and I’m gonna dress you in this shirt,” he spoke steadily, making sure I understood him.
I hazily nodded and he put my arms on each of his shoulders before unclasping my bra, sliding it off my arms. He soon strung the shirt around my head and carefully pulled it down my freshly wounded arms. He then proceeded to put on pants.
He heard the door and told them to come in. Doctor Reseda soon stopped into the bathroom and began wrapping my new cicatrices. She spoke to Derek about my blood loss, and the damage I caused and then left.
Derek turned back to me and growled deeply.
“How many fucking times?” he said in a dangerously low tone. I gulped and looked down. He walked over to me before yanking my face towards his blue flames. “Violet.” he growled, glaring at me, “why?”
Something snapped in my hazy state. Why? It was him! He made the voices do this!
“W-why?” I croaked, bringing my eyes up to him. “You!” I raised my voice, slightly shocked at myself.
His grip tightened, and an emotion flashed in his eyes before neutralizing them again. “You don’t raise your voice at your Alpha!” he shouted at me, I flinched down. “Understand me?” I whimpered. “Words, weakling, words.”
A sob left my lips, “Yes, A… Alpha.” he growled once more before picking me up and carrying me to the bed.
He laid me on it and walked out of the door, leaving it open. I groaned before turning the other way to go to sleep.
I heard footsteps come back in, along with the door closing. I didn’t bother turning over, that was until I felt the bed dip. I swiveled my head and saw Derek in a new shirt and sweatpants.
He rolled his eyes at me and told me to turn back around and hesitantly I did. He laid down and pulled me to him, his arm resting on my waist.
… What is he doing?…
( ‘Relax Violet. He’s our mate, he’s allowed to sleep with us.’ )
… No…