"You’re telling that you’ve been stripped of your title and usefulness in the Black Moon Pack?" The masked man asked, eyes flashing with subtle disbelief.
Xavier knelt before him, trembling on the ground. "Y– yes, Alpha. B– but, but I’m still useful. Please, give another chance."
Xavier had escaped from the pack even before he was stripped of his title, afraid that the moody Luna would kill him on sight.
He heard about his punishnt from his friend, who ca into the woods to give him food.
Xavier had attempted to escape to the West Wood Pack, where his uncle was the Alpha, but this masked man suddenly appeared in front of him, a strange ability that no one had ever possessed - teleportation.
And now, Xavier’s heart was in his throat, cold sweat trickling down his spine as the masked man’s eyes seed to bore into his very soul.
The air was thick with tension, and Xavier could feel the weight of the masked man’s gaze like a physical presence.
He scoffed, "Another chance?" He drawled, "You know my take on second chances." He began, "Had I not found you, would you have co to , Xavier?"
"I – I’m sorry, please give –"
His words died on his lips as the masked man’s hand shot out, wrapping around his throat like a vice. Xavier’s eyes widened in terror as the masked man’s grip tightened, cutting off his air supply.
"Don’t beg," the masked man growled, his voice low and nacing. "It doesn’t suit you."
Xavier’s face turned red, his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe. The masked man’s eyes seed to bore into his soul, and Xavier felt a fresh wave of fear wash over him. Just as suddenly, the masked man released his grip, and Xavier collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
But before Xavier could rejoice over being released, the masked man’s boot ca crashing down on his chest, pinning him to the ground. Xavier’s eyes widened in terror as he stared up at the masked man, his mind racing with fear.
The masked man’s face was a mask of calm, but his eyes seed to burn with an inner intensity. "Second chances are for weaklings."
With that, he pressed harder, a crushing sound of Xavier’s ribs cracking under the pressure. Xavier’s eyes widened in agony as he felt his bones shatter, his lungs collapsing under the masked man’s boot.
He tried to cry out, tried to beg, but his voice was barely a whisper, a faint gasp of pain and desperation. The masked man’s eyes remained calm, as if he wasn’t killing soone in a grueso manner.
And then, with a little more pressure on his foot, crack!
The sound of bones snapping was like a scream in Xavier’s mind, a searing pain that threatened to consu him whole.
Xavier’s chest caved in. Blood spewed from his mouth, a crimson torrent that gushed down his chin and onto the forest floor. His eyes, once bright and full of life, went wide with shock and agony, then slowly dimd, like candles flickering out in the wind.
He laid there, lifeless with a gaping hole in his chest, giving a full view of his heart.
The sharp, broken edges of nurous ribs, like jabbed spears, were embedded in his heart, pumping out blood from different openings.
The grueso image seared into the mask man’s mind like a branding iron. Yet, he felt nothing.
Standing alone in the oppressive silence, only broken by the whizzing sound of the lazy breeze ruffling the leaves above him.
"My Beta, it’s ti you return," he mumbled under his breath.
...
In a dark room in the pack...
Madam Katherine laid on her bed, her gaze was fixed on so invisible point on the ceiling, her expression frozen in a mask of grief.
The passing of ti seed to have little effect on her, as if she’d beco trapped in a perpetual state of mourning. She’d beco a hollow shell of her forr self.
A servant entered, carrying a tray of steaming hot tea and a small plate of delicate pastries, the aroma of which wafted through the room, a gentle contrast to the heavy stillness that filled it.
The servant’s footsteps were soft on the plush carpet as she approached Madam Katherine’s bedside, their eyes filled with worry.
She set the tray down on the table, their movents quiet, as if not wanting to disturb the stillness of the room.
"Madam, I’ve brought so tea and refreshnts," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, hoping to rouse her from her sorrowful reverie.
But no movent ca from Madam Katherine. The servant’s fist clenched as she watched the woman who was living, but at the sa ti, not living.
Susan had lost words trying to console this woman. She’d refused to take a sip or a morsel of food ever since Vivian was killed. She wouldn’t even speak to anyone.
After a while of silence, she tried again.
"Madam, please...try to eat sothing. You need to keep your strength up." Susan’s voice was laced with desperation, her words barely above a whisper.
She picked up a delicate porcelain cup and saucer, pouring a small amount of steaming tea into it, hoping the warmth and aroma might stir sothing within Madam Katherine.
She held the cup out, her hand trembling slightly, as if the simple act of offering comfort had beco an insurmountable task.
The silence that followed was oppressive, dented only by her trembling breathing as Susan waited for so sign, any sign, that Madam Katherine might respond.
Still, she didn’t.
Just as she was losing hope, a chirping bird ca to perch on her window, its small, bright eyes peering into the room as if searching for sothing.
Susan’s eyes were drawn to the bird, her gaze following its gentle movents as it settled onto the windowsill. And then, in a movent so slight it was almost imperceptible, Madam Katherine’s fingers twitched.
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