"No matter what we are, we all still have our own demons to fight."

Scarlett's POV

I stared back at him, in fear and revelation, making my stomach churn uncomfortably. He could change his mindset within a millisecond. Having a past experience of terrifying Alphas, I knew they were, for the most part, extremely cruel. Was he treating me like this just because I'm his mate? If that's the case, I'd rather be treated brutally than be pitied on and treated with commiseration.

When the nurses came in, however, there was that void look on his face again. I could tell the nurse and the doctors were timorous when talking to the Alpha. It legitimately made me wonder how he treated his pack, that they were so afraid of him. It sent a chill down my spine and I shivered, but not because of the stinging cold. It was something else, a minacious feeling that made my mind swirl.

A thought hit me for a second. Was he Alpha Xavier? Rumoured as the leader of a ruthless, merciless pack, as the Alpha who killed anyone that crossed his path, and was believed to have no mate at all. Rumours always went around, that he was, no, is, a monster. He is the terrorising, feral beast in those stories that were used to scare the pack children, to make sure they wouldn't wander around alone in the woods. Anyone who entered his pack territory would be killed in an instant,and no one ever made it out alive to tell the truth. No one entered his territory and came out alive.

But the girls in my previous pack had gossiped about him; that he was incredibly gorgeous, and had power. In that pack, all they cared about, was power. After all, even the Luna wasn't the Alpha's actual mate. A mate was someone destined to be with a werewolf; his or her counterpart, and some had a bond so strong that, together, they were indestructible, invincible, or so I heard.

However, the pack I was in never cared about anything but power. The Alpha's mate died in a rogue attack, and he found someone else who replaced her. It was devastating, the phase he had gone through, but he moved on to someone else, knowing that it would give him even more supremacy over everyone else. That was what I hated about them.

Their thirst for power blinded them, and they couldn't see what they were doing wrong. I was a servant of the pack at a very young age, and had to help do everything in the house, because they couldn't do it themselves. They degraded me until I could no longer believe that I would ever make it out alive.

They say words don't hurt, but they actually do. It's just that we don't show it. Maybe we do. Perhaps, we don't. Either way, no one cared enough to look after the weak. How could I chase down the monster all alone when my soul was already murdered?

Snapping back to reality, Alpha Xavier and the doctor was talking about something. Although I had slightly enhanced hearing, I could only pick up bits and pieces, as the nurses checked up on my health and whatnot, though I know my life is slowly deteriorating away. I already knew what fate had decided for me, and that was death.

The hospital gown only managed to cover up all of my body above the knees, but three quarters of my legs were still exposed, with the thin, distinct scars littering my legs. Of course, the more reason to feel self-conscious. I shivered as the cold air pricked at my skin; the thin, translucent hospital gown not helping at all. Maybe I should have escaped when I had the chance.

The nurses worked quietly, although I could tell they were shocked, as they stared at me with sympathy. My arms were covered in wounds, old and new. Cuts and bruises were literally scattered among the entire length of my arm. They all gasped, murmuring to each other. Their whispers were a bit too soft for me to listen to anything, but the awkward tension in the room made it pretty obvious that they were talking about me.

Instantaneously, the door opened, and Alpha Xavier walked in, wait no, stormed in. Yeah, that's the word. His hands were shaking, taking the form of fists, and his jaw clenched. Overall, he looked intimidating, as he strode angrily towards me. A bead of sweat formed on my forehead as he came closer and closer to me.

Three steps. Two steps. One more.

He raised his hand, bringing back reprehensible memories that I never wanted to remember again.

The Beta smiled maliciously at me, before turning the wolfsbane laced knife in his hand. The pack had special weapons designed to make werewolves feel so much pain that they would be begging for death. They used it on me, and usually, the knives or other masonry would be created with two or more substances that were harmful to werewolves.

This one was a mix of silver and wolfsbane. I had never defied anyone before, but they pushed me to the limit, making me rebel against them. And now, I was about to be killed for my defiance. Once my entire body was pulsing in absolute pain, I had finally learnt my lesson. The blood poured out of my body like a waterfall.

To an extent, I remembered the horror I felt, when I saw the crimson red liquid flow from my abdomen. A searing pain racked my body whenever I moved. I whimpered in pain, as I tried to get up. If I didn't clean the mess up quick enough, I would get another beating.

The memory ran through my mind, followed by many others that made me curl up into a ball, as if I could shield myself from the memories. Instinctively, I held up my hands in defence, cowering away from his tall, brooding form that overlooked mine.

My heart raced, and I could almost hear it pulsing out of my chest. The heart monitor attached to me started beeping loudly, as my body started to shake uncontrollably. My hand jerked, and I tried to move, but I just couldn't. It felt like walls were closing in on me, and I felt paranoid, like I wanted to just run away. The worst part was that I couldn't. I couldn't breathe. I felt claustrophobic, and I had no control over my body.

I couldn't respond to anyone. My muscles tensed up, my heart pounding, and I saw the doctor trying to calm me down. That just made it all the more scary. It felt like my throat was closing off, and I was shaking like a leaf. I felt extremely dizzy and light headed and, my vision started blurring. Shadows whizzed around like wisps of smoke, clouding my vision and everything else became an indecipherable blur. I gasped for air, covering my ears with my hand, shouting,"Stop! Stop it! Go away!"

My brain shut down. I couldn't think rationally; I was pulled down under. Too far ahead. Too far away from shattering reality. The black figures relocated themselves closer to my shaking form, encircling me. "Make it go away, please, make them go away!" Again, those blood-curdling eyes flashed in front of me, the sinister shade of red making me gasp.

A hand rested on my cheek and I was pulled out of the depths of my hallucination. Tingles erupted, sparks flying through the air, and I sighed in contentment. My heart slowed down, and my shaking had reduced. When I finally regained control over my body again, I looked up to see my mate, hugging me tightly to his chest. Confused, I moved away from him, seeing the flicker of ire in his blustery, thundery grey eyes.

He wiped away the remaining tears on my face. Ugh! Those stupid sparks wouldn't stop appearing...it's really distracting. The blankets had barely covered my arm, so the scars were still entirely visible to him. One look down at my arm, and a guttural, animalistic growl escaped his mouth. I tried my best not to flinch away from the sound that I had so frequently heard, and hated.

But I did. I flinched away from his touch, and I could see his almost black eyes, returning back to its normal colour. The foul emotion behind his eyes only left me dumbfounded, and I wondered what was with his change of attitude. Abrupt and sudden, I didn't expect for him to treat me like this, though I knew that he wouldn't keep me here for a long time.

His outstretched hand caressed my cheek slowly, and this time, I leaned into the warmth. The doctor cleared his throat rudely, looking agitated.

As he ranted on about whatever medical crap he was talking about, my mate nodded gruffly, and motioned for them to leave the hospital room. Quietly, they left the room, the nurses still murmuring to each other. As his sole focus was straight on me, I looked away from his stare, uncomfortable, pulling down the sleeves of the wretched hospital gown.

My scars, cuts, and bruises were all there, for him to see, and I hated it. I hated the fact that he saw the vulnerable part of me, and ashamed that he had someone like me. Those scars were never battle scars; they were just evidence that I wasn't strong enough to fight back. They reminded me of the times that I felt the first.

I was too flawed, too ugly for anyone to actually like. No one would ever want me. Then, as the abuse started, the feeling of self-hatred grew. My scarred brain could never heal from the memories, and I could never get rid of them. No matter what I do, they will never go away because they are a part of me, just like the demons in my head.

The emotional abuse, the mental abuse, it all started back then when my parents had died. And that was when I started feeling like everything was just wasted when it came to me. Since my pack earned for power, fed on it, like animals that hadn't eaten for months, if I had nothing, they would obviously degrade me.

Me? I didn't have power over anything, my rank was the lowest, and I was treated like rubbish at the bottom of someone's shoe. I was treated like trash on the sidewalk, like I wasn't a living being at all. I had no rights; no freedom of speech, nothing. There was nothing left for me in this beautiful, yet cruel world. Even the humans at the school knew it. All of them did their best to stray from my existence; thus, I really had no one to turn to.

For my entire life, I knew I was cast out of the social hierarchy, an outcast, but I didn't think it would be that bad to the point of abuse. They, the humans, might not have had wolves, or mythical creatures in them, but they all had their own monsters to battle.

Just like my pack, majority wanted the fame, popularity, power, in their own way.

I had nothing for them, and I wasn't worth anything. I was worthless.

**********

note

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