Alpha [Epsilon #3] {ON-HOLD}

Prologue

It's currently 2.00AM. Recently, I've been having a string of sleepless nights, and tonight was the first where I actually managed to slip past the brink of consciousness without having an anxiety attack.

I only managed four hours of rest before a nightmare tore me from my sleep. Well... can you really call it a nightmare if it actually happened? I guess not... I guess those are known as 'memories'. 

Memories... I've come to hate the word. I'd never known the malevolent power of memory until now. Sometimes, I can still taste the metallic tang of her blood in my mouth, and I'll have to go empty the contents of my stomach just to feel the tiniest bit clean. When it's quiet, I'll hear her strangled screams on the edges of my hearing, forcing me to re-live the moment she was maimed. Over. And over. And over again.

And when I am alone with my memories, I have to wonder what she felt in those final moments, what she thought. Pain and fear are a given, I know, but what did she feel towards me? Did she know Azriel had forced me to do all those awful things, or did she think I'd done them of my own accord? When she saw me, all bared teeth and killing intent, did she see the girl's she'd made so many fond memories with? The girl she'd laughed with, cried with... did she see Kyra? Or did she see a monster? A killer?

Even just writing that out feels surreal. Yes, even a month later, I cannot bring myself to accept what happened. It's like time stopped the moment I saw her mangled body in Azure's arms. Physically, I'm here, in my room, putting pen to paper beside a dying candle. But my mind? My mind is still on that battlefield, trying to process everything that happened, trying to comprehend things that should have never been allowed to happen.

So now, I'm writing this letter. For what? I don't know. I don't know what purpose this letter has, and if I'm being honest... I don't know what purpose I have anymore. It's nothing but a foreign concept now, and sometimes I'm amazed at how sure of myself I once was. But that was before my mate traded me off for a dead girl; before I ripped my friend's throat out. People look at me like I'm a monster now. I don't even feel like Kyra Aetos anymore. Part of me thinks she died in the middle of that clearing, taking Azriel with her in that great ball of flame. 

Had Faelen not intercepted, I could have finished Azriel. He would be dead. And so would I -- but that wouldn't matter, would it? Raina would be avenged. Azriel would be gone. And I wouldn't have to live with this crushing guilt, which eats me alive every second of the day. 

So... what I said before, about having no purpose? I want to amend that. My friend is dead, and it's all his fault. He took control of my mind -- forced me to rip her throat out like some savage animal.

But I will get my revenge. I will kill him.

I will kill Alpha South.

That is my purpose.

And I do not care what it takes.