(Rigel)
I keep hurting people because that’s all I seem to know. That’s what I have been cursed to do.
I do wonder how my captor didn’t curse to hurt my mate. It scares to my bones because everything with that monster is pre-planned.
This much I know that the plan is to make her fall in love with and then what? Will I be forced to hurt her too? If that mont cos I will take my life before I would hurt a single hair on her body.
The outside world is so bright for , the sun shines rcilessly and I wish the warmth could thaw this dead heart of mine. When I look at people, all I want to do is wrench their insides out, dig my fangs in them and drain every drop of blood from their bodies until they drop dead with their mouths half-open.
It scares , my thoughts, my emotions. The bloodlust I carry. The way I harm people and part of enjoys it.
Is there any humanity left in ?
I don’t even know where the curses on end and real begins.
I have forgotten the etiquette of this world. The conversations appear aningless to .
Now that I am out of that prison I calculate and find out that I have been held captive for the last 19 years. It’s enough ti to drive soone insane and all I have endured in that ti is torture and pain.
My innocence, my youth, my dreams were snatched from .
Still, I am not free. Will I ever be?
And Amaia. She no longer trusts , and from what I am seeing, she seems to be mated to Alnitak. The thought wrecks , destroys whatever sanity I have left.
She is mine, she is supposed to be my salvation. Not belong to one of these fucking brothers.
But why hasn’t he marked her? Or is there another twist I am unaware of?
Amaia seems to carry secrets of her own, the ones she is not ready to share with anyone.
She cares for her guildmates and has made it abundantly clear that I can’t hurt them.
The question is, can I stop?
I have wrapped the woven rose on my wrist and I hope one day she will accept it back.
I wander through the cleared part of Tozan Forest, the largest forest in Orion, and a part of it lies directly adjacent to the academy. The evening has spread its orangish wings on the forest and it’s becoming alive with its nocturnal creatures.
The fluttering of wings and a sad cackle of a bird breaks my attention. I glance up and catch a black, bluish-purple bird circling . It watches with its shrewd eyes and just flies away.
I hate birds. They wake up too early. They are raucous, and their beady eyes are always too judgntal.
Ignoring the annoying bird I continue on my quest to find a wild white rose. I have angered my mate and I will apologise by bringing her a white rose.
One day, maybe if I survive this and she accepts , I am going to make love to her on nothing but a bed of white roses. I am going to cover her with those petals, decorate her hair with them. She already has a streak of whitish silver in her hair which shows how pure she is.
I know I don’t deserve her. She is better off with soone who is not unhinged like . Alnitak seems like those caring types, those who go to any lengths for their mates.
But I am selfish. If I hadn’t been, this would be easier. It’s not.
I want her, and no matter what happens, whoever I have to hurt or kill to get to her, I will.
She is my light and no one else’s.
The delicate sll of honeyed, warm, and sun-kissed petals hit . I sll the wild roses before I can see them and my feet move in their direction, crunching the leaves and twigs under my feet.
I tumble upon a twining shrub growing alongside a tree for support. Fresh white roses decorate it like freshly fallen snow.
So delicate, so beautiful and prickly just like my mate.
Moving forward, I reach out and am about to touch one of the flowers when I sense a heartbeat. It’s too close. My eyes lift and I find a small creature flying from the top of the tree towards . It’s so kind of a bird. This must be its nesting place or whatever.
I wave it off, but the persistent, annoying bird tries to peck at my eyes.
I hiss–and with one sharp blow of my left hand, I cut its body open, killing it.
Stupid bird. Its body falls on the ground, unmoving.
The blood splatters on the white roses. Like the rain of red paint on a blank canvas.
What a contrast these two bring. The innocence and flawlessness are stained and corrupted, just like . The rose is no longer pure now, it’s turned morbid, almost wounded.
I reach out and pluck it from the stem, letting the thorns prick , hurt , making feel alive.
The tallic tang of the blood amalgamates with the warm notes of the rose. And this is going to be a perfect gift for my little mate, for my white rose.
I hurry back, I need to apologise.
Quietly I climb the stairs of her dorm and push her door open. It’s unlocked. She should lock her door.
Stepping inside her heaven, I snatch in deep breaths. Her fragrance has been stored in every lingering corner of this small room. My eyes keenly observe and I know the bed near the door belongs to her. Her scent is strong, and I want to just lie down on it and roll around, coating myself with her essence.
The room is neat and organised, and nothing much appears out of place. I turn around and find a table on which rests a...
BIRD’S HOUSE.
Oh no! Does she own a bird? A food and water container, along with a small cosy-looking blanket, says, Yes.
Damn! I hate these feathery obnoxious creatures and I have just killed one.
She is going to be so pissed at .
And then the door opens and my eyes swivel to see who has entered...
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