Claws

Chapter Sixty-Four

I felt a few of Zale's silent tears slide down my shoulder as I carried him inside his house after shaking my jacket off. We were both soaked in his blood, along with the filth of the Southerners we'd killed. The scent radiated off of us, defiling the air. I could tell that Zale was hurting both emotionally and physically. I would be surprised if he weren't.

When I slowly helped him sit on one of his kitchen barstools, I finally caught his expression, and my heart wrenched. His eyes were filled with tears that slid down his cheeks every time they built up just enough to fill his eyes. He looked away from me as if he were embarrassed that he was crying.

"Zale," I whispered, gently wrapping my arms around his neck. He buried his face in my shoulder and closed his eyes. I released some calming pheromones for him as he wrapped an arm around my waist and clung to my bloody shirt. I could feel his body shaking and his breaths beginning to shorten. My eyes teared up as I began to stroke his hair. "Shhh. It's alright. I'm here."

"That's the worst part about this," Zale struggled to make his voice sound steady. He took a deep breath and pulled back, covering his hand over his face. "Why did you follow me? You could have gotten hurt or, worse, killed! How would I be able to forgive myself if you did? How would I live without you now when I love you this much? Huh?" Zale pulled back from my embrace with a clenched jaw and shook his head as his grip went to my arms. His crystal blue eyes looked at me with a mixture of worry, guilt, fear, relief, and gentleness all at once. Why did he even look stunning when he was crying? "You weren't supposed to find out about all of this. Not this way."

It was quiet for a moment as I looked down at Zale's hand pressed against his ribs. "How long?" My voice was angrier than I meant for it to be. "How long have you been going through this?"

When I slid my hand against Zale's cheek, he tensely looked away from me, already silently avoiding my question. "Does it matter?" Zale bitterly laughed, an angry tear falling down his grimy cheek. "I chose my selfishness over the pack's safety and well-being, and now everyone's paying the price for that. Shouldn't you be mad at me? I'm the reason this war started. I even kept this from everyone, including my mom, knowing what was going to happen."

"Mad at you? Your fault?" My eyes widened in disbelief, and my hands dropped to my side. Is that what Zale thought this whole time? Was he really this brainwashed by his father? "Why would I ever be mad with someone who wants to choose free agency and stay with the people he loves instead of living in terror and resentment like your father does? And this war is not your fault! Your father is the one who chose to use you as an excuse to have a reason to attack us! Do you really think he'll stop with his plans if you go over to his side?"

Zale took another shaky, deep breath, trying to calm down. He closed his eyes and pulled me into another gentle embrace. I let him inhale my pheromones as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his breaths even and his emotions calm. "I wish all of this would end," Zale's voice was gentle, and his breath tickled my skin. He slightly pulled down the corner of my shirt and slowly kissed the fresh bite mark on my neck and exposed shoulder. It had stopped bleeding and was gently fading already. "I wish I could just love you and be with you without any complications."

I closed my eyes while his mouth moved to my temporary mark, only opening them when his lips stopped moving against my skin. When Zale's eyes met mine again, I winced, brushing my fingers across his bruised cheek, remembering he probably still had deep cuts all over his back. "We need to get you fixed up. You must still be in a lot of pain. I'll grab the medical kit. Don't move until I get back to help you take your shirt off. I need to see what your back looks like."

"If you wanted to take my clothes off, you should have just said so from the start. There's no need for excuses," Zale weakly joked. "I'd happily strip for you anytime."

"Geez. Is it really appropriate to joke around like that in this situation? How can you smile after you were just in tears?" I shook my head in disbelief as I pulled away from him, flicking his forehead. I quickly ran over to the medicine cabinet, grabbing the familiar large white box that was gently placed on the bottom shelf.

"I'd much rather do that than cry," Zale weakly shrugged, looking down at his clasped hands. "And to answer your question before, it's been two and a half years since Archeus approached me and exposed the truth. He told me once he found out that his wife in the southern pack couldn't have kids, he got this big idea to seduce my mom so she would have kids with him. That way, he could say he owned something from the Eastern Pack and use it against us in the future. He told me he first approached my mom while she was in the woods, claiming that he was a broke foreigner from the Southern mainland who had been brought back on the boat as a new addition to the pack. He said he'd gotten lost in the woods, not knowing much of our customs. Of course, my mom was weary of him at first, but as time went on, he arranged their "coincidental" meetings, and that's when my mom began to show interest in him. When my mom finally fell in love with him, he said he wanted to mark her, and not long after, my mom let him."

"My so-called father told me the only good thing that came out of his relationship with my mom was that the next heir was born. After that bomb was dropped, story time ended, and the plan to manifest my traits was laid on me. He began beating and drugging me about a couple of months later after trying unsuccessful, less violent methods. When I began showing signs of manifesting after going rogue, he maintained this monthly routine."

"Why didn't you just not meet up with him?" I asked, setting the medical box down on the island next to Zale. "Why did you keep going there if you already knew what was going to happen to you? Was it because he was threatening Linda and Robin?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. But even if I didn't want to, I have Southern blood in me, and I haven't manifested as the chief yet, so Archeus is able to subjugate me. He uses telepathy, an ability inherited by the Southern chief only, to call me so he doesn't have to get close and risk getting caught in our boundaries. As you can see, that's why the Southerners are seen as most intelligent. It's not that they are all geniuses. It's that Archeus is, and he gives all of his knowledge to the rest of his pack members with just one thought. On top of that, he's ruthless and has most of the pack under subjugation to "ensure their loyalty to him," as he likes to say. He's more of a psychotic tyrant than a chief."

For a second, I was silent as I looked down at Zales bloody shirt. "Let's...Let's talk about all of this after we get you cleaned up. Can you take off your shirt? If not, I'll cut it off for you. It's your call." When Zale smirked and opened his mouth, I glared at him. "Don't even think about making another stripping joke."

"I...wasn't going to," Zale sheepishly smiled, wincing as he slid out of his barstool. "In any case, I can take my T-shirt off. I kind of like this one since I'm pretty sure it's the one you wore the night after we temporarily marked each other. It would be a waste to cut it after holding such an important memory."

"What the heck?" I widened my eyes at Zale as I felt my face heat up. "It's already all bloody and shredded up! Plus, you have a billion black T-shirts! There's no way you could tell!"

"Maybe, maybe not. I still want to keep it just in case," Zale chuckled, grabbing the ends of his shirt.

I widened my squinted eyes in horror and cursed the moment Zale turned around and carefully slid his shirt off, exposing his shredded, bruised back.