The Awakening Echo

Thalia POV

The darkness shatters the second my eyes fly open. Mud coats my back, sticking to my bruised skin. Panic rips through my chest as I register the suffocating mass of Cormac pinning me flat against the forest floor. He crushes the air out of my lungs, his knees digging into my thighs to keep me trapped. I thrash, kicking and shoving at his chest, but my battered limbs are useless against his overwhelming bulk.

My struggles do nothing. Cormac forces my legs apart, his rough hands gripping my thighs. He shoves his cock deep into my vagina, tearing into me without hesitation. The raw friction and sheer force of his penis invading my body send a blinding jolt of agony straight up my spine.

"Don't be a tease," he pants, grinding his hips to drive himself further inside me.

A helpless sob rips from my throat.

He glares down at me, a sickening smirk twisting his face. "You're so dramatic, Thalia. I know you like it."

"Stop it, please!" I scream, my throat burning raw as the agonizing stretch threatens to rip me apart.

I buck my hips, trying to dislodge him, clawing at anything I can reach. Cormac’s smirk vanishes. He retaliates with brutal force. One massive hand clamps down on my throat, choking off my air supply, while his other hand reels back and smacks me across the face with an open palm. Once. Twice. The metallic taste of my own blood floods my mouth.

My vision blurs, the edges of the forest fading into black. Dark spots dance in my eyes. Desperation claws through me as my hand scrambles blindly through the dirt and wet leaves. My fingers brush against something hard—a heavy rock. Mustering every final ounce of my fading strength, I wrap my fingers around it, swing my arm up, and bash the jagged stone directly against his temple.

The jagged edge breaks skin, and a sickening crack echoes in the air. The blunt impact stuns him. He lets out a sharp grunt, losing his iron grip on my throat, and rolls off my body into the mud.

I stagger unsteadily to my feet, shaking. Sticky blood and his fluids run down my inner thighs, a grotesque reminder of the violation. At that exact moment, an inferno of uncontrollable, frightening power blazes to life deep within my core. It courses through my veins like liquid fire, knitting the bruised tissue in my chest, expanding until it demands release.

Cormac touches his bleeding head, smearing the blood across his skin. He looks up to glare at me, but his sadistic expression evaporates. It is replaced by paralyzing fear. He scrambles backward like a coward, pointing a trembling finger at my face.

"Y- your eyes," he stammers, his voice cracking. "I'll leave you alone. Just let me go!"

He raises his hands to shield his face, but the unleashed power inside me demands a toll. I don't move. I don't touch him. Yet, Cormac pitches forward, falling hard to his knees. His massive body begins convulsing. He crashes into the wet dirt, his back arching in unnatural angles. He grasps at his own throat, his fingernails digging into his flesh as he writhes on the ground in a state of excruciating agony. The air supply to his lungs has been severed.

His face drains of color, turning a sickly pale blue. Thick blood trickles from the corners of his lips. He lets out one final, guttural wail, his body giving a violent shake before going still. His dead eyes roll back, dark veins bulging against the whites. He is dead in the most brutal, unexplainable way possible.

I stare down at my hands. They are coated in mud and his blood. I clap my trembling palms over my mouth, horrified by the supernatural execution. Yet, I know I am responsible for it.

Before I can process the trauma of what I just did, a sharp, searing pain ignites in my facial scar. It is a biological warning. Kaelen's men are approaching my location.

I turn sharply to flee into the deep woods, but I freeze dead in my tracks.

Standing merely a few feet away is my brother, Ronan. He stands frozen, his eyes wide as he takes in the gruesome sight of Cormac's lifeless body, and then slowly travels over my battered, half-naked state.

"Oh, goddess, Thalia. He hurt you," Ronan whispers, his voice thick with horror. He takes a hesitant step forward.

"Stop," I snap. My voice is unrecognizable, hardened into deadened ice.

Ronan halts. Hot tears well in his guilty eyes. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, glancing back at the corpse, his chest heaving with rapid breaths. "Kaelen is determined to get you, Thalia. He dispatched his personal trackers to hunt you down."

My mind spins, but I keep my face blank.

"I tried to convince Dad to stop the trade. I did, I swear," Ronan pleads defensively. "But his Alpha command outweighed my own authority. You have to run."

He takes another half step. "You need to leave the pack entirely. I'll take over soon. I swear on my life, when I take over as Alpha, no one will ever hurt you again."

He hastily reaches into his jacket and shoves a thick wad of large bills toward me. Hundreds of dollars meant for my survival.

I stare at the money. Then I stare at his face. I feel nothing but cold disgust. I refuse his hollow offering. Where was this protective brother when I was bleeding in the training ring? He stood by and watched Darius treat me like a punching bag for ten excruciating years. I want nothing to do with his sudden, hypocritical pretense of care.

Without speaking a single word to him, I turn on my heel and vanish into the stormy darkness.

Valerius POV

Standing frozen near my SUV at the royal castle, I clutch my chest. The phantom agony of the girl's assault still lingers heavily beneath my ribs, a dull throb that refuses to fade. I turn to my Beta.

"Did you hear that?" I ask Mace.

Mace furrows his brows, looking confused. He slowly shakes his head. "Hear what? Are you alright, Valerius? You look pale."

I exhale a sharp breath, trying to shake the ghostly sensation away. Convinced that the overwhelming stress of the evening made me hallucinate the desperate woman's cry, I drop my hand from my chest. "Let's go inside. It's begun to rain, and I need a drink."

We retreat indoors to escape the freezing, relentless downpour. I grab the brass handles of the heavy wooden doors and push them open. Entering the opulent great room, my eyes immediately lock onto my parents. They are waltzing together to unheard music, absorbed in a deep, passionate kiss.

Mace shifts his weight uncomfortably, averting his eyes to study the intricate patterns on the rugs, but I just roll my eyes and clear my throat loudly.

They part just enough to acknowledge us. My mother offers a warm smile, while my father looks at me curiously.

"How was the Alpha party?" my father asks.

"Dreadful," I reply flatly. I hold his gaze. "Please explicitly order the other Alphas to stop throwing their daughters my way. I will not claim any of them."

The King simply shrugs, flashing an apologetic smile that reaches his eyes. "They never listen."

Both of my parents are aware of my stance. As fated mates themselves, they know their powerful son will only ever accept his fated mate as his Luna and Queen.

Seeking peace and quiet, I bid them goodnight and head toward my private wing. I expect to go alone, but I hear footsteps trailing me.

"Why are you following me?" I demand.

"Your private bar has the best liquor," Mace replies unapologetically. "I intend to pour an expensive glass of Macallan M whiskey."

I push open the double doors to my suite and ignore him. Mace goes straight for the crystal decanters. As he pours the amber liquid, he casually begins briefing me on pack business. He talks about the Cobalt royal pack's upcoming neighborhood architectural project on the east side.

I tune out his chatter. I step outside onto my private balcony, letting the cold, damp wind hit my face as I observe the violent storm raging across the sky. The storm above mirrors the sudden chaos in my blood.

Suddenly, my massive frame goes rigid.

'Help us, please,' the haunting, tear-filled voice echoes directly inside my mind once again. It is louder this time. Clearer. 'Help.'

An electric chill shoots down my spine. Deep within my mind, my inner Lycan, Valen, abruptly awakens. He begins pacing frantically against the confines of my consciousness, thrown into a state of instinctual panic. He claws at me, demanding release.

'She's here. Our mate is here,' he says coherently.