Unmoved Thoughts

Max's muscles screamed in protest, his shoulders burning, his palms already roughened and splitting beneath the leather wraps of his axe ash he used it to cut wood.

Max welcomed the sting in his body because it drowned out the thoughts circling endlessly in his head, the memories that refused to loosen their grip.

The cold morning air bit at his exposed chest, sharp enough to sting his lungs with every breath.

Steam curled from his mouth as he exhaled, each breath coming harder than the last.

The pile of chopped wood beside him had grown impressively large, logs stacked neatly. Max had stopped counting them long ago. He would keep chopping until his arms gave out or his thoughts finally broke apart.

Whichever came first.

Eugene’s face rose unbidden in his thoughts, as clear and sharp as if the Alpha stood before him now.

Max’s jaw clenched as he brought the axe down again, harder this time. The blade buried itself so deeply in the wood that it stuck there, vibrating faintly from the