Octavius (WATTYS 2016)

fifteen | wait

Warning: This chapter has darker themes.  

"Alessandra." the haunting voice drifts closer, enveloping my body like smoke. At first it is soft and gentle, as if a cloud somehow lifted the world off my shoulders and embraced me in its cold warmth. But then the hands tighten around my neck, icy fingers clawing at my skin, tearing, ripping until nothing is left but air. I gasp for breath, but my lips won't open and my eyes won't close as I watch my own death, drowning in a sea of ice and sand. And I can't find words, I can't beg the hands to stop, to release from my neck, let me live just please let me live. For a moment, black covers my vision, and at last I open my mouth. And I scream. I am screaming for eternities, for eons, for as long as the stars turn around the sun and the sun turns around its axis, and I am burning and melting all at once, and my scream is swallowed by a blinding light and a hand grabbing me, and I scream louder than ever before, my arms freed and fighting against the monster made of clouds. It has a voice, but I see no one, until the sounds form words, and words form my waking body.

I am bolted up in bed, my hands at my throat, clawing to reveal a hole where air might enter, and I can't breath and I can't exhale and I can only hear the voice.

"Alessandra, wake up!" It shouts, desperate, pleading.

I open my eyes, wet with tears.

Octavius is in front of me, holding my shoulders and his eyes wide. I release my hands from my neck, and look down to see tiny spots of blood on my fingernails. The wisps of smoke and clouds disappear from my vision, and I am in Octavius' room. I look around me at the bed, the covers strewn everywhere, and torn at some points.

"What-what" I'm sputtering, my cheeks wet with salt tears and my neck aching from my nails and hands.

"It was a nightmare, love. It's okay, it wasn't real."

"I-I clawed my neck." I whimper. I lightly touch my throat, wincing as I make contact with the raw skin.

"It's okay," He whispered, and pulled me to him, holding me close. "I'm here, it's okay."

My hands are pressed against his chest as I sniff softly.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." I breath.

"There is nothing wrong with you, love." His voice brushes against my ear. "You're perfect. You're mine, no one will touch you or lay a hand on you." He leans down and lightly brushes his lips against my mark and I sigh.

"Just a bad dream." I mutter against his skin. I feel him tense under my words.

"Just a bad dream." He repeats, and pulls me down into the bed, as we lie together, our faces inches away. I lift my hand to lightly caress his cheek. His face is so impossibly perfect, it almost seems frightening.

"Tell me about your scars." I whisper, tracing my finger down his straight nose. He doesn't open his eyes, and I begin to think he was asleep. But then he opens his lips and responds.

"The first time was the night my mother died. She was killed by a group of hunters at the pack boundaries. At least that's what the official report was."

"What do you mean?"
 "My mother never went to the boundaries without a guard or someone to protect her. She was small and frail, perfect for my father. One of his favorite hobbies was smacking her around. He wanted to prove that he didn't need love, that he was incapable of love. I knew something was false, but I never said anything. Despite his cruelty, I just wanted to please him, to be worthy of his pride. But that night, he came back to the house, drunk off his ass. He came into my room, and held a whip in his hand. He forced on my knees, naked, and then he lashed me, 12 times. One lash for every year I breathed."

I gasp lightly, "You were only twelve?"

He nods, his eyes still closed. "I got them every year on that same day, my present for the anniversary of her death." He sucked in a breath before continuing. "I stopped wanting his praise after that night. I just needed to make sure that I was always next in line for alpha. I disobeyed him constantly, and then I would get another beating. But his abuse wasn't the worst thing my father had done."

He paused, his eyes squeezed shut, attempting to block out some horrible memory. I stroked his hair lightly, comforting him and he exhaled slowly.

"One of his whores got pregnant. He was over the moon, thinking that if it were a son, it could replace me as alpha. But when the pup was born, it was a baby girl. My father was so infuriated that," His voice breaks for a moment. "He drowned the baby in a sink, dumping the body over a nearby cliff. He had no heart, no love for anyone or anything. The one thing my father loved was my mother, his mate, but he always taught me that love is worthless, that it is weakness. But it's not." He opens his eyes, making me gasp briefly.

"But he was wrong. He did everything he could to pretend that love didn't exist. It consumed him until he was nothing but a shell. Every time he beat me, he would scream at me to be a man, when I gave a girl a flower on her birthday, he made me punch her and crush the flower under my foot. He wasn't a man, he was so terribly afraid to be loved, to have a family."

"I was wrong." I whisper, my hands on his cheeks. "You're nothing like your father. You're strong, and those scars will fade in time."

His eyes are glued to my face, his eyes glowing slightly.

"When I found out you were my mate, I thought the goddess had made a mistake. I wondered how she could put me with a beast. But she put us together so we could help each other grow." I am rambling, my thoughts pouring from my lips without a thought.

Octavius pulls me closer, and looks down at my lips.

"The goddess put us together because we were built for each other." He lowers his lips to my neck softly.

"Your body fits to mine perfectly, my mark perfectly framing your bones." He brushes the mark and I groan lightly.

"Your hand in mine, your legs around me." His face inches closer to my lips, and he smiles slightly. "And your lips-"

And he kisses me softly, trapping me with him. I respond quickly, sliding my hands down his back and lightly scratching down the scarred muscles. He growls and pulls my hips towards his and I gasp. He uses my surprise to kiss me deeper practically rolling on top of me as we move together.

His hand reaches slowly for the waistband of my sweatpants but I stop him quickly.

"Wait." I breath, looking into his eyes. He breathes heavily and nods, and wraps his arms around me.

"It's okay, love." He rests against me, and I snuggle my head into his shoulder, closing my eyes. "I'd wait for you for forever." 

Aw, Octavius :( 

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