Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Chapter 107  Too Late

Everest was just a step away from the animal's den, ready for blood when he heard the irritable clamor of Killorn's men. They proudly addressed him as their one-true leader, the sound of the werewolves pissing Everest off. He slinked into the shadows of the trees to see Killorn rushing forward.

Tch. Everest waited near the forest to see what Killorn would do. He watched with a jealous heart as Killorn reached into his jacket for a key mid-run.

If it had been Everest, he'd never physically punished Ophelia like this. If he had been her husband, he'd have many twisted things waiting for her, but never like this. Ropes in the bed, leather on her wrists, there were more than one way he'd treat his wife at her disobedience, but never beyond that. A wife was meant to be treasured… loved… protected. Killorn had failed all three.

And nothing pissed Everest off more than the fact that Ophelia would forgive her husband. Once again in his life, Everest had been too late.

"It should've been me ten years ago," Everest growled under his breath. "It should've been me taking the Overlord's orders."

Then, Everest was gone as quick as he came, knowing Ophelia would flood her husband's arms at the first opportunity. Not because she loved Killorn, but because in her eyes, he was the hero.

At least, that was what Ophelia believed. Soon, time would tell.

- - - - -

The wildest image flooded Killorn's mind. Killorn felt his inner breast growl and break at the barriers that separated his humanity from a wolf. Ah, that was right. He had never shifted in front of Ophelia. He never intended for her to see it—the monstrosity he was. His fellow citizens were beautiful creatures with fur coats that glistened with youth. Killorn was a nasty one, large and unruly, built for things beyond dashing through a forest for a quick run. He was made to murder. To tear apart. To kill. It was all very much like the dogs he kept chained up.

Killorn pictured the worst things imaginable. Desolate eyes, hollow cheeks, blood spreading from her neck, and tears on her face. Her mangled skin, the pieces of her body torn apart, and her ripped skirt. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Ophelia…" he murmured whilst fumbling for the key. What had he done?

In a moment of blind rage and anger, Killorn channeled a man he never wanted to see. He became a monster he never wished to witness. Killorn became his father.

Ophelia will forgive him one day, but Killorn will never forgive himself.

The first and only word he shouted against the howling wind was her. When he flung the doors open, snow plunging through the entrance, the wind biting at his skin, he cared for her. Only her. He should've known this much sooner, but did not.

"OPHELIA!" Killorn roared, his voice tucking the tails of every creature in their vicinity. And what he saw shocked him beyond words.

When Killorn entered the room of barking beasts, he was stabbed right in the chest. The knife twisted a mortal wound that festered across his body. His knees nearly gave out. His sweet Ophelia, too fucking good for this world, was on the ground. Ophelia was upon her knees, her eyes wet, and her lips twisted upwards. The girl that should've been torn apart, limb to limb, dared to laugh mere moments before he walked into the dungeons. At the sight of him, her joy died. She was playing with the beasts! There was a scratch on her sleeves, a single droplet of blood on the round. He distinguished the color from the wood. Despite that, Ophelia was petting the damn thing! "My god," Killorn sputtered. Fucking. Hell.

Ophelia had tamed yet another animal. With a wide gaze, she edged closer to the dogs. Those damn beasts. They should've been barking like mad dogs, their jaws dripping with saliva, and their teeth bared in menace. Instead, they were tame and proper whilst roleplaying as precious pets. "What are you doing?" Killorn muttered as the knife dug deeper into his heart. She was hugging the animal in fear as if it could protect her. Did the creatures dare to bite the hands that feed them? Seems so, for the dogs began to bare their teeth in his presence.

"They are loyal creatures to me. They will not protect you—only I can," Killorn regarded.

Ophelia stared at him. 'At least these beasts will not hurt me,' she bitterly thought to herself.

Ophelia's grip tightened on one of the wolf dogs. She had formed a special connection with it just shortly after coming inside. They were good pets, immediately obedient when she showed no intentions of harm. They reminded her of Nyx, who just needed a few belly rubs to be tamed.

"Ophelia, come here," Killorn grumbled.

Killorn approached her. Quietly, he lifted her into his arms. She froze, almost in fear. She was cold as ice. The dogs began to bark, but a final glare from Killorn sent them whimpering back in fear. Understanding confusion was a symptom of hypothermia, he immediately bent and pressed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I didn't mean it," Killorn sulked. "I take it back."

Ophelia said nothing. Killorn painfully closed his eyes in shame.

"They did not hurt you, did they?" Killorn asked, his voice lowered in defeat. He tightened his grip when she stared into the distance. There was a lack of trust in him now. He had punished her. He had put her in harm's way not once, but twice. Was he ever going to be adept in loving her?

"You could have backstabbed me in the heart and I would have forgiven you, Ophelia," Killorn suddenly confessed.

Ophelia's head snapped to him in disbelief. "Unlike you, I won't intentionally harm my l-loved ones," Ophelia chided through chattering teeth.

Ophelia's words punched him right in the face. His throat tightened and he tightened his jaw so hard that he was sure he'd shatter the bones. The worst part was? He believed her. She did nothing wrong.

Ophelia offered a liquid that her body produced. Her body was hers. He told her that she was not his property. All she did was obey his words, he knew that before he even pulled her to this hell shack. He could not look her in the eye. "They treated you well," Killorn muttered. "How?"

"I smell like Nyx who is still a p-puppy, so they must see n-no harm in me" Ophelia responded. "I g-guess."

Each stutter, each difficulty, it all equated to more scars on his heart. Killorn did this to her. She had this issue when she first met him, but it was not this severe. From his inability to protect her, he made her stammer more severe.

Killorn was not good enough for Ophelia. He realized this quickly. His understanding was almost alarming as the thought of leaving her, so that she could thrive elsewhere. "I am hurting you more than I am helping you." Killorn took her into the castle. She didn't respond, but her silence spoke bounds. He was met with the tear-faced Janette who instantly summoned for a hot bath to be brought up. Beetle appeared exhausted, but dared to not say a single word. When they walked up the stairs, people bowed in respect.

Eventually, the couple made it back to their bedroom. Warmth flooded their chilled bones, but the painful silence reminded them of the loveless night. Only the crackle of the fireplace could be heard. A moment later, steaming water was brought into their adjoined bathroom. Soon, the bath was ready. No one expected their cruel Alpha to bring back a prisoner less than ten minutes after taking her there. Either Janette knew this was bound to happen, or she had hoped it would, for there was already a large and warm bathtub waiting for them. Yet, when Ophelia saw the area, she tensed up.

"No!" Ophelia shrieked, shoving him off of her. Killorn was flabbergasted. He stared at the emptiness of his palms and of his wife. Her expression was vicious. Her lovely features were twisted, her arms hugging the pillars of their bed tightly.

"Ophelia, I—"

"You've hurt me."

Another rare moment that she did not stutter and it was to stab him in the chest.

"Ophelia, I—"

"You've l-left me…" Ophelia's voice cracked. "To die."

Immediately, Killorn widened his eyes. "Never!" Killorn insisted, crossing the distance between them. "I will never fathom the thought of killing you. I have slain many, but it will never be you. Your blood will not be on my hands."

Killorn glanced her deep in the eyes. "This, I swear to you."

"Then someone else's hands," Ophelia softly said. He was floored. Ophelia swallowed. "One day, I will disobey you again… when the time comes, you will push me into the hands that kill me."

Killorn was ready to sink to his knees and beg. Then, she delivered the final blow.

"This, I swear to you," Ophelia whispered.