Chapter 8 Charisma Pov

I feel him beside me, moving restlessly and slowly my eyes flutter open. I can see him writhing on the bed, sweat beading on his brow. I take a deep breath and then slowly, reach over, to touch him on the shoulder, trying to waken him from what I suspect is a nightmare. In response, he lashes out, punching me hard in the face and hitting me directly on the nose, causing it to break as I let out a cry of pain, scrambling quickly off the bed. The sound of my voice halts him, and he forces his eyes open, while I clutch at my nose feeling the blood trickle down my chin. His eyes widen. He looks panicked. Before I can assure him that I’m okay, for I have broken my nose more times than I can count, through training and battle, he begins to automatically get on his knees, bowing his head and wringing his hands. I realize what he’s after. He’s begging silently for forgiveness, and it hurts me more than I can bear. I push my nose back into place and then wipe the blood off with a rag sitting nearby and then strode over to him, feeling desperation warring through me. “Get up” I said loudly, gripping him underneath the arm and hoisting him to his feet. I don’t want him to act submissive towards me. I didn’t want him begging for forgiveness. I wanted him to know that he was safe. I would never harm him for something that was an accident. He hadn’t meant to hurt me. He had been in the grips of a nightmare and thought I was trying to harm him. He looks at me. His eyes are shining brightly. He looks as though he’s on the verge of tears. I shake my head at him. It’s early morning and the sun is shining brightly outside. We have to get a move on if we’re going to travel back to my pack today. “I need to get cleaned up. Why don’t you go and get some food in you?” He looks uncertain and I almost shove him out the door, grabbing a new set of clothes from my luggage and throwing them on. I can clean up later, when the blood is washed off of me. As he heads downstairs, I head in another direction, one thought only in mind. Revenge for my mate. Luna Christina looks the worse for wear as she clings at the bars. “Finally,” she exclaims, “let me out already you heathen” she sneered. In answer I picked up a whip that was on the trolley, examining it closely. My voice is deadly as I address her. “We found the room.” She blanches. Her voice is nervous now. “The room, what room? If you’re talking about the torture room, I swear it was all to do with Ronald.” “Lies” I hissed, raising the whip threateningly as she began to cower, “you used that room didn’t you Christina? You put my mate in that box, and you left him there for hours. You tortured him, scarring his body permanently. What kind of woman are you, to do that to an innocent man?” “He is not innocent. He’s a disgusting half breed monster” she spat out. I saw red. I moved menacingly closer and then kicked the door off the cell, causing her to shriek as she tried to move away from me. I grabbed her, flinging her to the ground. My claws grow and I tear them down her back as she flings her head back and screams. “How does it feel?” I taunted, raising the whip and hitting her with it as she bucked beneath me. “Does it hurt? Is it painful. Why don’t you shift and face me?” I mocked. She was in too much pain from the silver of the whip to do so. I raised it higher and put all my strength into the next few blows, landing them one after the other, in the same spot in the centre of her back. Her screams were like music to my ears. Blood began to spurt out of her wounds. “Have mercy” she screamed, “please I can’t take it anymore. “ “Is that what he used to scream?” I was relentless. “Yes,” she sobbed, “yes until he lost his voice. Okay. We tortured him together, me and Ronald. What more do you want from me?” I stopped and leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Nothing. I just wanted a confession from you before I killed you” I breathe menacingly. I gripped her by the neck and then hoisted her high above me. I did it with ease. She gaped at me, her hands beginning to claw at my fingers, causing scratches. I didn’t feel the pain. All I felt was rage as I looked directly into this woman’s eyes. I wanted her to see me, for me to be the last thing she saw before she died by my hand. I dropped her and then grabbed her again, this time twisting it and breaking her neck. She dropped lifelessly to the floor. I glanced back at my men who were hovering behind me, slowly wiping my hands on my shirt. “Get this mess cleaned up and leave her for the animals to feast on. She doesn’t deserve the dignity of a proper burial” I sneered. I walked away, heading upstairs, the blood splattered all over my clothes and skin. I resembled a warrior although it had taken very little to kill the woman in charge of this pack. She had been pathetically weak in comparison to me and even if she had put up a fight, she never would have managed to best me. It was almost a shame, I thought absently, that she hadn’t because a big part of me had been longing for a fight. As it was, my mate would be relieved to find the woman who had tormented him for so long, was no longer able to get her disgusting hands on him. When I got my hands on Ronald, I would take my time torturing him. His screams would fill the air and his blood would splatter the walls. My mate would be given the opportunity to take his revenge, and justice would finally be served. That day would be soon, I vowed.