The doctor ca around a few tis every day after she had regained consciousness to check on her progress, but when he realized she was no longer in a life-threatening condition, he stopped coming and instead assigned two girls to assist her.
They were an. Viola realized it on the very first day they were assigned to her. Whenever they helped her clean, they deliberately scrubbed too hard and nudged her wounds and bruises. She never cried nor protested. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry or complain. The days of her complaining were over when she was thrown into the Hollow position.
She silently endured everything, not that she could have spoken even if she wanted to, her throat still raw and burning. Every day, after they cleaned her and fed her roughly, they would leave, and she would be plunged into a deafening, lonely silence, where the only sounds were the soft, barely noticeable hum of the air conditioner and the faint, distant activity of people occasionally moving past her door.
The silence would have been peaceful if her mind had been at peace. How was she going to et Alpha Kade? How was she even going to speak to him, to tell him what she wanted?
Try to say it, Viola, she encouraged herself.
"I... I w-w-want to... t-talk to you about... s-s-sothing... v-very... important," she practiced. Her voice sounded hoarse and fractured, breaking apart with every word, but she knew it was still enough to be understood. Now the problem was how she would even et him.
She couldn’t walk nor see clearly. Her legs were still in casts, and one arm was broken with a sling around her neck to support it. Her only option was to make him co to her.
That night, when the two ogas assigned to her ca in, laughing and chatting among themselves as they changed her sheets after placing her on the couch, Viola cleared her throat, interrupting their conversation.
"W-w-where... is th-this place?" she asked. She had wanted to ask that for a long ti, but her throat hadn’t allowed her to until now.
The ogas exchanged looks, and one scoffed. "So she can talk? And here I thought she was deaf and dumb along with ugly and fragile."
They gave each other a high five and laughed, but Viola let their insults slide past her. She had heard worse.
"Well," one of them said mockingly, "since you don’t have a wolf to sense your surroundings, and it doesn’t look like your eyes are working well enough to read the signs through the glass walls, you’re in a place people like you don’t belong. The Silver Pack. Inside our VIP healing house."
The oga eyed Viola where she sat on the couch in a plain blue gown, bandages wrapped around nearly every limb.
The oga couldn’t help but think that if she herself were sleeping and woke up to such a bruised, pale face with sunken cheeks staring back at her, she would have scread and thought she was seeing an evil spirit. Because this woman looks exactly like that.
Where had their Alpha even found such a nightmare and brought her here? Her hair was tangled and matted, and though they were assigned to clean and assist her, none of them would touch such frizzy, filthy hair. The last thing they needed was lice jumping onto them.
Many people knew the girl was here and had wondered why she had been brought to the Silver Pack, but no one dared ask Alpha Kade. Who would question the Supre Alpha? Only the Elders could, and even if they had answers, ogas like them would never be privy to such information.
Viola’s brows rose in surprise at the realization that she was in the Silver Pack, a pack only few had the fortune to enter. Online pictures showed how mighty and beautiful it was compared to other packs and Viola had once been so obsessed with it and how unreal it looked and advanced. Those who had been here said it looked like heaven itself, its structures unlike anything the others possessed, and that pictures online didn’t do it justice.
So he had brought her to the Silver Pack? She had thought they were still in the North Pack, where he would eventually take his Luna.
Viola pushed the thought aside and turned her attention back to the ogas, who continued talking about her as if she wasn’t even there.
"M-may I ask you a favor?" she said carefully. "C-could you let the Alpha know that I am a-awake?" She made sure her tone sounded polite rather than commanding, not that her broken voice could sound demanding even if she tried.
"And who are you?" one of them sneered. "Did you think our Alpha is soone you can summon anyti you want? Just because he brought you here doesn’t an he gives a fuck whether you’re awake or dead, Miss Ugly."
No one could summon a Supre Alpha unless he wanted to see them. Certainly not soone below an oga, without a wolf. The nerve of her. No doubt she was one of those females who thought she was special just because the Alpha had shown her a shred of kindness.
No matter how much one believed they were used to insults, it still stung, especially being called ugly, when her beauty had once been her pride. Despite her past arrogance, she had never believed in the word ugly, because she judged and labeled people by their character, not their appearance.
But Viola swallowed it down. What she wanted was far more important than wounded pride.
"I... I just thought," she said quietly, her voice uneven, "that since he brought here... maybe he should know I’m awake."
The ogas laughed. "Sorry to burst your bubble," one of them said cruelly. "We don’t have access to the Supre Alpha. If you want to see him, you can go summon him yourself."
They laughed harder, their eyes flicking to her bandaged legs and arm. "Or maybe not. He doesn’t talk to ugly won."
Viola’s fingers fisted into the fabric beneath her. Instead of responding, she stayed silent. She needed to et him desperately, before she was thrown out without ever seeing him, without saying what she needed to say to convince.
But she knew these girls would never help her.
That left her only one option.
Another way.
And the only way left was the bond.
Though she knew he would hate it even more than she did, she had no choice. She forced herself to reach for him by longing for his presence, fully aware that it would tornt him until he ca to her.
User Comments
0 comments from readers