Rejecting Styxx

Chapter 3-Crave

Styxx's pov

The muscles in my legs are screaming from exertion, but I don't give them the rest they're clearly begging for.

I push myself harder and faster until the pain becomes almost unbearable.

This is what I needed. What I wanted. Craved. To be so consumed by pain, I was able to feel something again.

Something besides the empty, hollow feeling that's been my life for the last couple of years. Out of everything that I've tried to do to fill that void, this is the one thing that has been the most effective.

Because I'll still feel the pain well into tomorrow. And the pain from my muscles taking a brutal punishment is far better than the nothing I feel every second of every minute of every day.

Sweat drenches every inch of my body as I push myself even harder. Peeling off my shirt, I use it to wipe my face dry, discarding it off to the side as I continue to run.

Three more laps should do the trick. If I could last that long. Blacking out from exhaustion is the only way that I'll stop. Otherwise, when my laps are over, I'll move on from cardio to weight training.

The agitation I felt this morning when I got up was at an all-time high. Might have something to do with Zarek ruining my fun last night by not letting me fight that prick, Rhett.

Or it could have something to do with what tomorrow was. You would think that after three years, I wouldn't agonize over the Blood Moon. I've tried my hardest to put it out of my mind, to pretend that it was just another day, nothing special.

But the torment I feel on the Blood Moon only intensifies as the day goes on. I already know I'll just end up drinking myself into an oblivion and wake up the next day with no recollection of the night before.

It was the only way to spare myself from having to watch one more of my friends find their mate, and dance around all giddy like a fucking schmuck. Just one more, and I was bound to lose control, and destroy everything in my path.

Just before I'm about to finish my last lap, my legs finally give out on me, and my body comes crashing down in the dirt. I roll onto my back, and fight to catch my breath.  My lungs heave,while I fight to not hyperventilate.

Not that I care. If they just gave out all together I'd die happy, laying here covered in a mix of sweat and dirt. Fuck whomever  finds my body, and has to remove it from the track at the training grounds.

I wasn't lucky enough for that to happen though, as indicated by my breathing evening out. The air now easily enters my lungs, and I'm left lying here dissapointed.

Most other species would love to have werewolves healing abilities. Unless your a werewolf who's on a self destructive path. Then the fact that pain doesn't last anywhere near long enough becomes annoying.

"You just gonna lay there in the dirt like a lazy asshole all day?" Zarek's voice rings out.

I hear him drop what I think is his duffel bag, and his footsteps continue to advance in my direction. Of course he's here, why wouldn't he be. Anytime I needed to blow off some steam, or just be alone, he shows up like a rash in the crack of your ass. Completely out of the blue, and unwanted.

"Can't you go find someone else to fucking bother today?" It's starting to feel like this male was my damn babysitter, one that I don't need nor want.

"You can get up and fight on your feet, or I'll be happy to just kick the shit out of you where you are." He states matter of factly.

A look of relief spreads across my face, because I know for a fact he's not bluffing. If I don't get up, he'll make sure I'm not able to for a long time. This right here is what I need. A good old fashioned, no holds barred fight.