IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Axel

The smell of dust and blood dominated my senses as I moved along the Roman buildings, clutching my stomach in agony. A trail of crimson dribbled endlessly from my nose, forming tiny rivers of red down my neck, the stickiness soaking into my shirt.

I moved through the little village like a ghost, soundless and without making eye contact with anyone. The humiliation of the beating had been enough, I didn't want anyone's sympathy to pile on top of that. Didn't deserve it.

When I finally made it to the staircase closest to my room, I braced myself against the wall for a moment, gathering enough courage to take on the dreaded steps. Every inch of my body hurt, and my left, blurry eye was almost swollen shut.

I took a few shallow, quick breaths, but the soft thudding of footsteps behind me urged me to start moving again and I began climbing. My broken hand was pulsating violently, but I kept it tucked into my stomach and climbed the mountain of steps taunting me with their shiny-white radiance.

The feet behind me stopped abruptly and I heard a sharp intake of breath before it scurried off again. Must have been a she-wolf caught off-guard by my haggard appearance. Not really the effect I usually had on women, but in the state I was in, I couldn’t care.

Panting and dragging my feet, I slumped against my room’s door, pulling on the handle with my better hand. With a metallic click, the door hurled open under the weight of my shoulder and it swung ajar with such force, it hit the opposite wall with a loud bang, and I fell in after, hitting the ground, shoulder first.

I hissed in pain and rolled over onto my back.

Everything hurt and throbbed relentlessly inside of me. I was certain I had broken a few bones in my hand, not even mentioning the swelling in my abdominal area, pressing dangerously onto my lungs.

Wolves, that was what we were. Animalistic, violent and territorial.

I didn’t blame Dire Mountain for protecting their honour with the beating, but damn, it hurt like hell. They certainly did not go easy on me. Not that any less would have sufficed. I was of Alpha-blood after all.

As I lay flat on my back, panting from lack of oxygen and staring at the ceiling with my one good eye, the thudding of feet in the hall announced someone’s presence.

Just kill me.

“Alpha?” A soft female voice spoke.

I groaned in annoyance and grumbled, “just Axel.”

“Uh-Axel, are you okay?”

The feet came closer, probably to get a better look at me, and a small gasp escaped the person leaning over me.

I couldn’t see much through my one eye, but I caught a glimpse of red.

“Do I look, okay?” I ground out, the swelling around my ribs taking up too much space in my chest cavity, forcing me to take fast shallow breaths.

The red blur leaned in closer revealing a red-head female with green eyes and so many freckles they couldn’t be counted.

“Who did this to you?” She asked, eyes frantically scanning over my injuries, most of them luckily concealed beneath skin and clothing.

“I did this to myself, now leave. You are excused.”

Her expression changed and she stepped away, not towards the door, but inside.

“I am not some maid you can just dismiss,” she growled as she took steady deliberate strides into my room.

“Get out, can’t you see I am not in the mood to play,” I grumbled, hoping that I had hit a nerve and that she would leave me to heal in peace, “come back when I am healed.”

A tap turned on in the bathroom and I heard some bottles clinging against the stone surface. What on earth was she doing?

A second later the patter of feet came back, and I felt hands wrap around my legs, swivelling me to get out of the doorway. When she had turned me just enough to close the door, she did so and crouched beside me.

“I am going to ignore what you just said, for your own sake and mine. Let me help you to get into the tub. It means nothing, and for goodness’ sake, keep your shorts on.”

A lazy smile played on my face at that last part. I had hit a nerve.

“Bossy, I like it,” I purred, although it came out sounding quite strained.

“Shut up,” she muttered and clutched my hand to pull me up. Unfortunately, she had grabbed the broken hand and as her grip tightened, bone cracked and shifted inside my flesh.

I bit into my cheek and clenched my jaw; a haggard noise escaping my lips. She must have felt the movement beneath her fingers, because a pale white colouration immediately veiled her face, and her eyes grew wide in horror.

Her mouth fell open to say something, but no words came out, so she shut it again, those horror-filled orbs burning into me.

“I’ll manage,” I groaned, ushering her out, but she did not budge.

“I-uh, I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she gently reached for my back instead, helping me up into a sitting position.

A stabbing pain shot through my stomach at the new, uncomfortable upright angle and a deep tortured roar reverberated from my chest.

The female looked slightly frightened, unsure whether I would snap at her or not. She had nothing to worry about since my wolf was yet to make an appearance IF he was still alive wherever he was hiding.

“Your pity is stinking up the room, get out,” I rasped in between pants.

The redhead had gone stiff and quiet. She had no idea what to do next, I could see it clear as day in her startled, rigid appearance.

After a few more moments, she silently reached behind my back and helped to pull the shirt over my head, taking extra care not to hurt my hand again. This time I let her. I needed help, whether I liked it or not.

“Thanks,” my voice sounded foreign. Low, rasp and pained, “I should be fine from here.”

The female nodded and headed for the door. As she gripped the handle, she glanced back at me one last time, “I’m sorry,” she simply said in a low, serious tone.

“For what?”

“For pitying you.”

Then she left. Leaving me to sulk in my own misery.