Chapter 7: The Haunted Memories [1]

[AWUOR]

For eight months, the reject, Alpha Awuor had to learn to live in the wild like a loner. She ate like an animal, lived like she was the worst of the outcasts, and had no one to call family. She was completely and utterly alone.

It should have gotten easier with time. It shouldn't have been so hard, but with her mate sleeping with everyone who was willing, she had to be reminded of the awful bond that kept her linked to the throne.

She wanted to ask the moon goddess to end whatever this was, she had tried every possible way to have a better life, but how could she, when every time she tried to lead a different life, she would always be reminded that at the end of the day, she was a prisoner of Sicario?

She wanted to go back home but she couldn't, and even though she kept hoping, she knew there was just no other way for her to go back home unless she worked her way to her father's heart. But then how could she, when she was always far from home?

How could she when she couldn't even find it in herself to deal with her cruel mate?

She wished she could make him feel the pain he was making her go through every night, but she couldn't. Instead, she had to endure the pain. She managed to get herself to the point that she went beyond her limits just to get used to the pain.

There were days when she broke her own bones, snapped her fingers, twisted her ankles, and hit herself so hard that it hurt so bad. Anyone who saw her, would think she was trying to take her life, but she was training.

She was learning to heal without the help of anyone.

She was trying to work through everything because at the end of the day, she was always going to be alone.

"Was it really my fault, mother?" Awuor asked as she sat outside the shelter she had built for herself. It was the question that had no answers or rather the question that even she didn't know the answers to.

Over those months in exile, Awuor thought and thought about what had happened to her on the night her mother died. She couldn't imagine walking from the gym to her mother's chambers only to claw her heart out.

Hell, even the people who were possessed showed systems, and the rejected alpha wasn't possessed by anything or anyone. She couldn't imagine what she had been accused of. After so many tries, she had resolved her fate.

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[Eight Months Ago]

"Aaahh," Awuor said when she suddenly woke up in a place she couldn't tell. She was feeling like someone had kicked her ass real bad and she hadn't even managed to defend herself. She had a splitting headache, and for a moment, she stayed where she was.

From the feel of it, she was lying on a hard surface, which was weird considering the beds in Sicario were some of the best. The comfort that came with being a royal was beyond this world and being the alpha of her pack, Awuor definitely had grown up in comfort. So it didn't make any sense.

"Damn, did the stupid dumbbell fall on me again? I should really be careful," Awuor sighed as she waited for the pain to subside. She didn't know any other way out of this, because the last time she had been in this state, Jer had helped her up.

Today, her mate was busy with the warriors, so she was definitely here alone.

The darkness in the gym made her feel like she was in another world. one thing about Sicario was that everything was properly lit. They hated darkness, all of them, because so many things could happen in the dark, and that was the first thing that made Awuor raise her eyebrows.

The gym that had never been out of light was suddenly dark.

It didn't make any sense.

"Great, now I gotta use my werewolf sight. And what the hell is that wetness, dammit," Awuor sighed when she felt some liquid on her hands.

She had always made it known to her werewolf warriors that the particular containers were to be put on one side, specifically, the farthest end of the gym, near the male washrooms.

Sure, she could have assumed that the liquid was from a water bottle, but from its density, she could only guess that it was a thick liquid, the one that the warriors always used once they had showered.

It was something beyond Awuor's comprehension, but as long as they served Sicario well, she had promised she would never get involved in whatever fluids they used on their bodies.