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5. Craving Her Pain, Needing Her Love
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Liam’s POV
Her tears finally broke free, cascading down her face, and I couldn't help but trace every single one with my eyes.
My mind reveled in seeing them, a twisted part of me urging to keep them flowing, hoping they could somehow heal every damn crack she left in me the day she walked away. Yet, my heart and my wolf, Sean, were furious at the sight of her pain, angry at me for hurting and humiliating her.
We may not have been fated mates, not blessed with that instant, magical connection or divine bond that drew us together. But that's what made our love even stronger, even more special. We chose each other. We fought for every moment, every smile, every touch. Ours was a love forged in the fires of choice and effort, not the effortless pull of destiny. It was raw, real, and deeply human.
“What do you want from me, then?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion, each word trembling with the weight of her pain.
The room seemed to hold its breath, the space between us charged with a mix of anger, longing, and something unspoken. I looked at her, torn between the desire to make her suffer as I had and the urge to pull her into my arms and never let go.
It was the hardest question she could have asked.
What did I want from her?
I wanted to hurt her so deeply that there would be no shred of her left.
I wanted to love her fiercely, marking every inch of her with my passion. I wanted to punish her. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to humiliate her. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to see her crumble under the weight of her guilt. I wanted to lift her up and see her smile again. I wanted to make her feel the same agony she had inflicted on me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world. I wanted to see her beg for forgiveness. I wanted to forgive her and start anew. I wanted to be her worst nightmare. I wanted to be her sweetest dream.I wanted so many conflicting things—to say to her, do to her, make her feel and experience—but I didn't know which of them to carry out.
Would I be the monster of her worst nightmare, letting her taste a flicker of the torment she left me drowning in when she broke me into a million pieces without even looking back? Or would I be foolish enough to help her regain her position and fall in love with her all over again?
While I was still struggling to decide what the hell to do with her, she suddenly stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she took a deep breath. Her eyebrows furrowed in shock. "You smell like... like... baby's breath. Were you... were you near my pack?"
"Busted," Sean, my wolf, laughed at my expense.
Damn, her nose was no joke. She had nailed it. I had been by her pack the moment Elizabeth, her nanny, called to tell me what happened to her. Without a second thought, I had sprinted out of my pack territory, racing like hell to make sure that asshole husband of hers and his mistress didn't lay a hand on her.
As she stood there, her bright, hazel eyes wide with realization, I felt a strange mix of emotions. I could see the questions forming in her mind, the confusion, the flicker of hope. She had no idea what to make of my presence there, and honestly, neither did I. All I knew was that despite everything, despite the anger and the pain, I couldn't stand the thought of her being hurt.
Baby’s breath was a type of flower only common around her territory and nowhere else, making it clear I had been there to save her.
I had kept my distance once I spotted her running off, wolves sprinting after her to capture her. I had Sean take care of anyone who got too close, ensuring she arrived safely here.
Somehow, I knew where she was headed. She had no one else to seek help from, and while I knew my father would never allow any kind of assistance for her, I was prepared to shield her from him.
But what I wasn't ready for was to let her know the truth—that I still cared enough to rescue her from the pack she left me for.
"You think I care enough to risk everything for you?" I said icily, my voice cold and cutting. "Don't flatter yourself."
She blinked, clearly taken aback. The glimmer of hope that had briefly flickered in her eyes extinguished, leaving behind a void of pain and confusion.
"But... the baby's breath," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "You were there, Liam. I can smell it."
"Believe what you want," I said harshly, refusing to make her pay for using the name she was forbidden to utter. "But I didn't come running to save you. I have more important things to do than meddle in your mess."
Her face crumpled as the weight of my words sank in. She looked down, trying to hide the tears now streaming freely down her cheeks. The silence between us was thick with unspoken emotions, the air heavy with tension.
She looked back up, her voice tight with desperation. "What do you want in exchange for helping me?"
"Who said I'm going to help you?" I took a step closer, our faces inches apart. My voice dropped to a dark whisper, "Watching you lose your position brings me so much joy. I don’t want that joy to ever end."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "So you really meant it? You're going to make me suffer and keep me here against my will?"
Before I could respond, my eyes fell on her shoulder where her wedding dress had slipped, revealing a vicious, bleeding bite mark. My heart pounded in my chest, and my blood boiled at the sight.
"Who bit you?" I demanded, my voice rigid with barely contained fury.
She flinched at the intensity of my question, her hand instinctively moving to cover the wound. But it was too late; the damage was already done. That mark spoke volumes, and it ignited something primal and protective within me.
“Does it matter? It hurts like hell; I know that’s what matters to you the most.”
Without thinking, I gripped her arms and demanded menacingly, “Who the fuck bit you?”
“It was Nathan... my... husband. We were fighting, and he bit me,” she said through gritted teeth.
Confusion swirled in my mind. I had assumed one of my pack members was responsible. The bite looked so fresh that it seemed impossible it could have been inflicted hours ago—it should have healed by now.
“How come it’s not healed yet?” I asked, my voice taut with concern and suspicion.
She swallowed hard and responded bitterly, “Wolfsbane.”
The word hit me like a punch to the gut. Wolfsbane. The one thing that could prevent a wound from healing, causing excruciating pain and debilitating weakness. My grip on her arms tightened involuntarily as the implications sank in.
“That bastard used wolfsbane on you?” I growled, my anger boiling over. The thought of Nathan resorting to such a vile tactic made my blood run cold.
She stared at me, her eyes brimming with tears that began to fall again. “Are you going to help me make the bastard pay or not? I need to know.”
I took a deep breath, the weight of her question hanging heavily in the air. My mind raced, torn between the fury that burned within me and the undeniable pull to protect her. The seconds stretched into an eternity as I struggled with the decision that could change everything.
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