#Chapter 4 - Ripped and Torn

Valen

I trudged into the dungeon with ragged breaths, shirt clasped in my fist as I snarled against the pain of my wolf, Blaze, roaring in my head. My other hand dragged half-transformed claws against the rock wall, leaving deep scratch marks in my trail.

Where is she? Blaze demanded. Where is our mate?

I didn’t snarl back at him. It was useless. He’d proven to me over and over again that he wouldn’t listen.

I just needed to get to the dungeons before he got loose.

I nearly fell down the last stair as he roared once more, even louder this time. I barely managed to regain my balance, clutching my head with a hiss.

Bring me our mate! Blaze howled, slamming against my mind as he fought for control. His hunger for our mate mixed with a pounding bloodlust.

When Liora, our first mate, had died, both Blaze and I had been inconsolable. At first, he would howl in sorrow all through the sleepless nights. We mourned together, haunted by her memory and praying to the Goddess she would reappear in our arms.

Liora had been a part of us, a part of our soul. Losing her had been like cutting out the most important part of ourselves and burying it.

But while I kept mourning my beautiful Liora, Blaze slowly succumbed to the agony of her loss. His sorrow festered into something cruel and wrathful. It was something I couldn’t hold inside, no matter how hard I fought.

At first, the incidents were small. I’d threaten one of my servants for a simple mistake, or I’d get a little too rough with one of my betas in the sparring ring. It hadn’t stayed that way for long.

I’d known it was possible. It was a common side effect for Lycan wolves when they’d lost a mate. Still, I’d foolishly thought I could keep Blaze’s increasing desire for blood under control.

But oh, how he’d proven me wrong.

A few months after Liora’s death, I’d hosted a banquet to try and demonstrate my continued strength as a King. I wanted my people to know I was still their capable leader, despite my loss.

Instead, when one of my guards said that it was good to have me back, Blaze completely took over for the first time.

I didn’t remember exactly what happened. However, the memory of regaining control of my body and finding my hands covered in blood still plagued my nightmares. I stood over the corpses of fifteen of my own men, good men I’d sworn as their King to protect, and all I could think about was how Blaze was finally quiet.

Maybe I was just as insane as he was.

They called me a tyrant after that night. The people I protected feared me more than they respected me. They were right to.

Blaze’s bloodlust had only stopped for a few days though. Since then, he’d had quite a few “incidents”. I’d just gotten better at hiding them.

I knew there was only one way to fix Blaze’s broken mind if I wanted to be the ruler my kingdom deserved: I would have to find my second chance mate.

It was so rare that I knew I’d have a better chance of finding a pinecone in a rainforest. But I had to try. And try I had – for three years, I’d tried.

I’d almost lost hope…until I smelled her yesterday. Until he’d seized control and pinned her underneath us…

Mate! Blaze snarled once more. Bring me my mate!

I screamed and fell to my knees onto the stone floor as his claws raked across my mind. My vision darkened under the white-hot pain.

When I first regained my vision, it felt as though both a second and an eternity had passed. I was dizzy, and I breathed heavily. My hair was matted against my head, and I brushed it back with wet hands.

I didn’t have to look at my hands to know what they were covered in.

There were only three bodies littering the floor this time. However, they were more mangled than any of Blaze’s previous kills. Their faces were unrecognizable, and I wasn’t sure which of the limbs torn and scattered across the dungeon floor belonged to each corpse.

The steel bars of the cells had been crumpled like paper, too. That was new. The appearance of our second chance mate must have made Blaze go more berserk than usual.

I sighed, crouching down and gathering the limbs next to the bodies. Even though they’d been death row inmates, I couldn’t stomach leaving them disrespectfully strung across the dungeon floor. This senseless bloodshed made my stomach curl.

Blaze had gone quiet in my mind, briefly sated by the carnage. And here I was, left to clean up his mess.

It couldn’t continue like this. I couldn’t rule my people like this. Blaze had to be brought under control.

But still…the idea of taking another mate made my stomach churn more than the bodies did.

It was like spitting on Liora’s grave. She was so perfect, and moving on felt unforgivable. My sweet Liora…how could another she-wolf ever take her place?

No one ever could.

However, I would do what I had to in order to control Blaze. I refused to be a tyrant in my people’s eyes anymore. I would do my duty so that they would no longer have to live in fear of my dark secret.

I cleaned the blood and grime off my body with practiced efficiency. It had become a science. I knew how long it would take to shampoo the pieces of flesh from my hair, what type of soap to use to scrub the scent of death from my skin, how much peroxide I needed to wash the red stains off my clothes.

I’d received word from Eclipse Pack that my mate was headed to the palace. I made myself presentable enough in a collared shirt and jeans – I didn’t need to impress the girl in order to appease Blaze.

Benson, my butler, waited at the bottom of the stairs when I emerged from my room.

“Master Montclair,” he said, subtly looking me up and down to ensure I could be seen without causing alarm. “The dungeons have been cleared, my lord.”

I nodded, taking long strides down the stairs to face him. My regal mask was firmly back in place as we stepped out the front door of the palace.

“Has she arrived?” I asked. My voice was thick and strained.

“Yes, my lord,” he confirmed. “I’ll have the guards bring her.”

He snapped his fingers, and the two guards stationed at the front entrance turned towards us at attention. Neither met my eyes, but one seemed shaken. His lip quivered, and he shuffled back and forth between his feet.

Something was wrong.

“Bring the girl,” Benson ordered.

“Well sir,” the trembling one stammered in a high-pitched voice. “The girl…you see…”

“Spit it out!” I snarled. This time, it was my own frustration coming out, not Blaze’s.

“She’s gone!” he whimpered, barely a whisper.

I stared at him for just a heartbeat. Then, without thinking, I took off running.