Feral Eclipse(EDITING)

36. Crying Wolf

And when I hold your hand,
The troubles in my heart dissipate
As if they never belonged to me.

.

Screaming.

Parades.

Embellishment.

The sound of blaring and bellowing noise invaded her ears, even while Mavis pleaded for Vera to do something; to do anything to stop the madness. Vera stood on her tippy toes, steadying her graceless balance until she would crumble on her knees beside her whimpering companion.

Mavis is quite helpless, subsiding into withdrawal. She frets silently as her mouth lays into a frozen gape. Tears were fleeing her eyes while her shoulders slouch; surrendering to the wheedling pain she'd felt, traveling to the very tip of her spine. "Vera," in between sobs, Mavis chokes on her words. "Please. Stop your mate. You have to stop the prince!" Mavis all but cries.

Vera leaves Mavis with only her thoughts, only her emotions would accompany her as she settles in the midst of the wood. Unbeknownst to the fragile, weak hearted Mavis, Vera would soon plunger her soul into the seeping abyss of a blood trail. She'd follow the voices to the outside, passing through the pack-land's camp. Vera catches sight of a huddle of men, who she avoids by tiptoeing toward her mate's home.

Although, she'd seen Paxton and his followers rue the chambers of where Hector would be held and chained, possibly even tortured, her senses tingle mischievously while she followed the scent of her male's. If Alexander had intentions of murdering Hector, he wouldn't do it swiftly. It would be premeditated and pretentious. It would escalate with attentiveness and painful. Yes, Alexander would wait.

He would wait.

Lights were off.

Vera's mind was swarming with temptation and enigma. The air around, was more suffocating and congesting. Heated skin, murky irises was only the beginning symptom to the throttling fall of a potentate. Vera began to scratch wildly at the bitten mark on her neck, extending her claws to bury inside the healed wound.

Walking slowly up the long antagonistic stairs, had only disheveled her breathing. Vera held her tight lips shit, flanking pass the narrowness of the hallways. In the outskirts of the castle, justly below the stairwell, Vera could hear the ghostly sound of her past self giggling. She watches as a transient, yet decaying memory proceeds, of her and Mavis flooding the castle during their freshman tour.

Alexander had turned out to be a brute, so cunning and merciless. The insides of Vera's stomach curls; flipping and tying itself into unbreakable knots—while her fingers hover above the door knob. Between the threshold, Alexander has thrusted inside her warmth, resting himself between her sweaty thighs. Behind this door, he has tasted her flesh and rocked her into a milking climax on many occasions; several times. He has shielded me from the world, that needed to experience Vera.

A world that needed to experience a queen.

Vera's pupils burned, the blouse she'd worn was now soaked in her bodily fluids and tears. Now, thicker liquids were expelling from the mound of her womanhood even as she clenches her fist to shove the door open. Beyond the door, Vera expected to see her male changing his attire to match the energy of his audience. After all, he planned to attend a slaughter of his fair and former friend.