Mates of the Broken Hearted

* This book is the second book in the Redmoon series, following Property of the Alpha. It is a continuation of the story from Thomas and Paige's point of view, along with a few other cross-over characters from the Bloodstone series. If you have not read book one, please go do so before starting this one.*

*Readers' discretion is advised as this book deals with abuse, death, and other dark content.*

Prologue

I can still feel the blade's tip pressed against my flesh where it had once cut into me, over and over again, until I was left with wounds my body couldn't heal fast enough. Making sure I would always carry the scars on my skin to remind me of my mistakes.

I can still smell how the silver burned into my skin, slicing me open repeatedly until I passed out from the pain, no longer able to stay conscious, no matter how badly I wanted to. Because passing out and leaving them with my unconscious body was much worse than enduring the stomach-churning pain.

I can still taste the blood on my tongue from all the times I had bit into it as hard as I could to suppress the screams building in my throat, not giving them the satisfaction of hearing my screams as they tore into me over and over again. The laughter was as haunting as the sick glint of excitement that danced in their eyes as they watched the blood drip from my wounds.

The ghosts of my past still haunted me even though I survived them, even though I got away. I can still feel them taunting me at every turn, whispering their twisted beliefs in my ear. Telling me this isn't real, that it's only a dream, and soon enough, the monster within me will be awakened once again.

I'm constantly on edge, always prepared for everything to turn to shit and be forced to fight for my life all over again. Because nothing good ever stays good for long. I believe that wholeheartedly.

So no matter how tired I was of fighting, and god was I tired of fighting; I would keep at it. Keep fighting my inner demons, fighting my past and hoping that maybe I was wrong for once. That maybe just once in my life, the good could stay good, and I could breathe, even if it were only for a little while.

"Wakey, wakey, mutt. Ivan has a treat for you since you were such a good guard dog yesterday." Leon's nasally voice taunted as he ran the blade of his knife against my cell bars making as much noise as possible to wake me up, the loud clanking enough to drive me mad. Leon, the pig-nosed bastard, knew I wasn't sleeping. Of course, he had to make a game of it, though. I never slept, not in this state where Eris and I were both present—forced to stay in this odd shift from whatever drugs they had injected into my system every day.

I didn't move, though. I didn't give in to his taunting. My head still bowed as if maybe I had actually fallen asleep. My arms were numb from the lack of circulation from having them chained above my head all night long. I had become so numb to the pain in my shoulder, so used to the abuse, that it didn't phase me anymore.

A fist connected with my side, and I gritted my teeth against the sudden burst of pain that blossomed in my ribcage as Leon took another swing at me. I had missed him entering my cell, lost to the dark thoughts that constantly swirled in my mind. Only then did I lift my head, the movement stiff as I locked my eyes on him.

The guy looked like a fucking leprechaun, but he sure as shit knew how to hit. It was the one thing he was good at and probably the only reason Ivan kept his dumbass around: Leon loved to torture the hunter's captives, their victims. Helpless werewolves and any other magical or nonmagical l being they could get their filthy hands on for their little lab experiments. The bastard was good at extracting whatever information the hunters needed too. He made everyone he dealt with sing like a canary, everyone but me, and that pissed him off.

He loved hearing whoever was under his care scream and begged for him to stop. He loved watching them break until they were nothing but a husk of themselves.

It was one of the reasons why I refused to scream or even react when he had his fun with me. I refused to give him the one thing he wanted, and I knew it pissed him the fuck off, and as fucked up as it was, pissing Leon off was what gave me the strength I needed to survive in this place.

"You look at me when I talk to you, boy. You understand that." Leon's fat fingers gripped my hair as he pulled my head back, forcing me to look at him. His lips were peeled back in absolute outrage.

He was mad, and pissing him off further would only result in him doing something else that would leave more scars on my already battered body. But I couldn't resist pushing him over the edge.

I felt Eris scratch against my skin, trying so hard to break through whatever drug they injected in us. I didn't hold back as I spit in Leon's face. Some of it landed in his mouth. He let out a roar of outrage before he pulled back his silver blade and stabbed it right into my side.

"You'll pay for that, you fucking mutt. I'll make you wish you were dead." He pulled out the blade only to slam it into my bicep.

***

I slowly opened my eyes, my body no longer reacting to the nightmares of my past. I took in my new room and the bed beside me. The mattress was still too soft for me to sleep on unless I was too exhausted to take note of my surrounding, but even then, I found myself on the floor or in this chair before morning.

I let out a deep breath, pushing myself out of the chair that Colette had insisted on putting in my room after she found me sleeping on the floor a few weeks ago, a look of understanding passing between us once I finally gave in.

I rubbed my hand over the ache in my chest, hating that my sister was haunted by similar demons, hating that we shared this deep twisted understanding no one should ever know.

I looked out my window, finding the large mountains still covered in shadows of the night as the sun slowly rose into the morning sky.

I wasn't with Leon and Ivan anymore. I wasn't their weapon anymore. After fifteen years of believing she was dead, I was safe and finally back with my sister.

I was safe; we were safe, and I would keep telling myself that until I actually believed it. Because I was wrong, and good things could stay good, even for monsters like me.