Content Warning:
This chapter contains depictions of graphic violence, emotional/sexual tension and suggestive sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
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Not even the moon goddess smiled that night. It was as if the pack's fall had been written in silence as it started in, making it hard for anyone to be able to defend the gates.
And like all quiet things, it came with a deadly precision. No warning, no mercy.
A little boy not more than the age of eleven had been awaken by the sounds of swords clanking.
But that hadn't been the major reasons he did, because as he slept, he had felt heat, of something burning near him.
And when he had done so, discovered that indeed his room was engulfed in flames and burning.
"Mother...." He called out in between coughs as he tried to smother the fire that obstructed the exit door.
But no body answered him. Not even a maid. This felt odd to him. He was the crowned heir. No one would dare set his chambers on fire and worse still not respond to his call.
The pack house was filled with hundreds of maids waiting for his orders, why couldn't any of them come save him from the burning chambers now.
He was still trying to call out to someone to help him when he felt something hot hit his back.
He yelled in pain immediately, even before turning behind to see what it was.
And when he eventually did, discovered it to be a fallen wooden piece of the ceiling that was already burning.
Not giving himself the time to bemoan his blister from the burn, he continued trying to open the door but discovered it to be locked from the outside.
Someone had locked him inside his chambers as he slept and then set it on fire so as to crush him, who was the heir of the pack.
He wondered why no one had noticed he was under attack to send help. Where was his mother? His father? His uncle. Where were all the gamma's in the pack? Were they all still asleep to know he was currently under attack?
Once he was out of here, he vowed to make sure he found whom it was that had the audacity to set his chambers on fire. And once his parents did, he was going to use them as a scapegoat before the other subjects.
"If you want to have time for revenge, then you'd need to be alive. How can you avenge what you're not alife to?" A deep voice asked him and seeing it as his wolf's spirit speaking.
By now the fire was getting too much, so he left the exit door to the window where it seemed as if the fire hadn't advanced much to, except for the covers that had already burnt.
Picking a club from his room, he had struggled severely before he was able to break them and climb out of his room through the window, but he was only mortified by the sight he took in after he did.
There before him in the hallway were all the guards usually stationed to stand guard him, all on the floor..Dead and murdered in cold blood.
Each one's head had been made sure to be severed off and away from the rest of their bodies.
Even the women were not left out. As most of their heads were sprawling on the floor as he tried to walk away from where their bodies were littered.
He couldn't contain the sight nor explain what was happening.
The hallway was on fire and this made it even harder for him to leave. He got another burn wound at his lower back before he successfully did.
Who would have attacked his pack at such an odd hour. What pack would come to massacre his people like this. Who betrayed them?
Regardless of whatever reasons they had, he cared not. Attacking a pack past midnight without notifying them of a looming war and when they were already asleep with their arms down was an abomination..So who would dare do that?
He ran through the smoke and past the blood-slick floor. But the moment he made it outside, his legs gave out beneath him. The gravity of the horror he saw made his knees weak beneath him, causing him to fall hard.
It was the kind of sight that grips your soul and and has tears something permanent out of it. His mouth parted but no sound came. Just wide disbelieving eyes of his ... and then silence.
Because how would he even begin to scream at something like that?
"Denzel!!" A lady called out, watching the man sleeping beside her on the huge bed tremble and writhe in pain.
She couldn't understand why he was. Nor how the beads of sweat was on his forehead. The night breeze was even cool and she had woken up to cover herself with a sheet. How was it that the man beside her was sweating in such weather condition.
"Denzel" she called out again, this time patting him with a hand as she tried to forcefully get him to stand up.
But it proved futile..and once she got tired of meeting silence as she tried waking him up, she reached out to the jug by the center table of her room.
She dipped her hand in and scooped some water which she poured on Denzel's forehead. This sent him waking up in full force, as if being struck by something he hadn't anticipated.
He growled angrily as he turned to face whoever it was that had the audacity to wake him up from his sleep and with water.
"Are you alright Denzel? You were sweating profusely and panting heavily in bed, I almost thought you were fighting a war while asleep" the low soothing voice came and somehow he found himself relaxing back a bit when he found out who it was talking.
"Cattaneo Gatiza....." He whispered while running his hand over his eyes, as if trying to clean off the remnants of the sleep he hadn't even gotten a wink of.
"Are you having the nightmares again? I thought returning from war, you would be able to forget it. Why are you still not over what happened decades ago, Denzel?" She asked, voice etched with worry.
Denzel didn't want to respond to her for he had no words to give. Instead, he extended his hand towards her to take, leading her back to the bed.
He had almost forgotten to control himself after returning hours ago. He shouldn't have come to her chambers in the first place either. She didn't like her sleep being disturbed so he was at fault and he couldn't argue with what she had said.
She moved closer to him on the bed, her fingers light as feathers as they trailed down his abdomen to his thighs, caressing him slowly and deliberately. Her breath was warm against his neck and her touch was unrelenting. She was hoping, perhaps aching for a response with the way she went about it.
Her hand was still wet from the water she had touched and on instincts, she had sort it.
She glided them effortlessly over his cock, running them up and down , stroking him harder and faster at each turn.
A noise outside had caught his attention and when he was snapped out of it, Denzel looked down at her and she was looking back at him with innocent eyes and a naked body which she had already undressed.
Her fingers were wrapped tightly around his shaft and his head in her mouth, lightly gripped by her teeth.
She let up her hold on him with her teeth but started to firmly suck and bob her head. His cock disappearing into her.
She kept wanking and taking him deeper into her mouth on each bob. Her naked body was at his feet on the bed.
But nearly half an hour passed and despite her efforts, his body remained still. Unyielding and brutally cold.
Tender like meat that had no bones and had been beaten to numbness.
She pulled away, her eyes narrowing in frustration. "When will this end, Denzel?" she asked, her voice low but laced with disappointment.
Perhaps she had expected too much. For him to reach and place his hands on top her head, thrust into her maybe but especially for him to respond.
Gosh for him to glide in and out of her mouth on his own, wanting her lips to suckle him. But nothing of sort had happened. Not even a grunt had escaped his lips regardless of how long she had suckled and stroked at his cock.
Denzel's jaw clenched and he turned away from her, his voice calm and almost detached.
"Perhaps after the war," he replied. "And when I'm done getting my revenge." He managed to mutter, trying to mask the guilt and breakdown.
She stilled at that. For a moment, it felt like she might say more but instead, she slowly rolled off him and turned away. Facing the cold side of the bed and covering her nakedness with sheets, her arms wrapped around her in her own disappointment as she tried to force herself back to sleep.
Denzel turned his face to the other side while staring blankly at the shadows the moon cast on the wall.
She did not know.
And he had to make sure she never did.