The next week passes by with the same routine I've always had: wake up, go to the Archives, receive snide comments from Blessing here and there, maybe gossip with Florentine, head home to eat dinner uncomfortably with my family, and do it all over again. However, I've added two new things to my daily agenda:
1) I spend more time wallowing in self-pity and loneliness than I did before. Ladies and gentlemen, I didn't know it was possible to go lower than rock bottom, but somehow, getting rejected seems to have done the trick!
2) I spend quite a bit of time with the 3 lycans who seem to have adopted me into their little research group at the Archives.
That's where I am currently. The Archives, of course, but with Sabrina, Cora, and Corban. I'm not really sure what to make of our relationship. Is it for work? A little, since they ask for new recommendations to scour through and for knowledge that they may have missed. Are we friends? I'm not entirely sure, but sometimes it feels like it.
"Hazel, do you know exactly when the first rogue showed up?" Cora asks, pushing the eraser end of her pencil into her cheek. The three of them are sitting at a table in the Study Section while I'm on my knees, cleaning out the third drawer of the filing cabinet next to them.
"We can assume that rogues have been around ever since wolf-shifters were created," I answer as I swivel my body around, opting to cross my legs in a sitting position now as I try to recall what I've read about rogues. "However, I believe the first recorded incident was in the 1700s. There's only been a couple after that since it's so rare for a wolf to be treated in such a way. A tragic story, really. There's not even a record of his name. A male wolf was shunned by his pack due to his mother passing away during his birth. His father, her mate, began the shunning, and pack members followed. He fully turned rogue when he turned 15. He killed half his pack mates, including his father and older siblings, before they were able to put him to rest."
"Put him to rest?" Corban scoffs, I feel his lycan aura flair. "He killed his packmates. He deserves to rot, not rest."
"Rot? I can't imagine what he'd been through," I retort quietly. "He'd been shunned by everyone who was supposed to love and protect him, even as a baby. And he was only 15 when he snapped, practically a child. He must've been so lonely."
It feels wrong to talk back to a lycan, especially one who might possibly be royalty, but I can't not say this. "After all that, I think he deserved to rest."
Corban's features soften, and he nods. Spending time with the lycans has somehow dulled my senses to their auras. Instead of the domineering feeling I got when I first met them, their auras have somehow eased. The pulses they emanate feel more soft, even a little welcoming.
"A 15-year-old killed half his pack mates, including his father? Those wolf-shifters must've been double his size, double his age! How'd he manage to do that?" Cora exclaims.
"Well, despite years of research, no one has come up with a solid answer as to why it happens. But we know one thing: rogues don't feel pain." Their eyes widen when I say this.
"Like emotional pain?" Sabrina inquires.
"Well, that isn't confirmed, but I mean, they don't feel physical pain. They could be stabbed, shot, burned, beaten, literally anything, and they won't feel it. That's what makes them so scary. They're like bulldozers. The only way to stop them is to kill them," I answer.
"But can't you physically restrain them?" Cora pipes in this time.
"I'm sure you could try, but they could break their bones or tear off their limbs without so much as whimpering to get out of the restraints. It's happened before."
"What about her?" Corban holds up the books he's reading to point to a picture. I recognize it right away.
"Helga Thomas, a rogue case study. The only rogue ever studied in captivity," I say as Corban peers down at her picture. Although I can't see it in this moment, the image has been burned into my mind ever since the first time I saw her and I just can't seem to forget.
Matted and unruly tangled dark hair, ghastly yellow eyes, and mouth wide with an animalistic show of teeth. She's practically skin and bones, yet her muscles are taut, and you can tell she's bursting with carnivorous energy, even just from the photo.
"How'd they get her? She has all her limbs."
"That picture was taken shortly after she went rogue before they were fully able to keep her in captivity," I look away in an effort to suppress the shiver that runs down my spine at the mention of Helga Thomas. "They were forced to cut off her hands and feet and they pulled out all her teeth." Their faces contort in disgust.
"Damn," Corban sighs. "I wonder what made her go rogue." My hands falter on the papers I'm rummaging through as I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
"Her mate rejected her."
No one says anything for a long moment. Even though I'm not looking at them, I know exactly what they're doing. They're doing that stupid thing where they talk through their facial expressions and although I can't tell exactly what they're saying just yet, I know it's usually about me.
They must think I'm some rejected loony.
I mean, they wouldn't be wrong. I am a rejected loony.
Rumors of my rejection spread like wildfire throughout the pack. 70-year-old Florentine knew! Forget the fact that she's a gossip queen--a 70-year-old should not be hearing about a 21-year-old's failing love life through the grapevine. They might not be a part of the Rolling Woods pack, but these lycans definitely have heard about it now.
"You sure know a lot about rogues," Sabrina finally comments to break the silence.
"I know a lot about every topic in this library. I try to read it all." I say with a shrug of my shoulders, turning my back towards them again as I return to my task in the cabinet.
"You've read everything?" Corban practically guffaws.
"Part of my job."
"I've met a lot of Archivists, and they don't read everything in their collection, Hazel Wren."
"Well, I do," They don't need to know that I have absolutely nothing better to do with my time. "It makes me better at my job."
"It definitely does because you're fucking fantastic. We wouldn't have made all this progress if it wasn't for you!" Cora grins at me now.
My first impression of Cora reminded me of a glacier, unmoving and cold. The definition of an ice queen. In some ways, she even reminded me of Blessing. But with her packmates, she gives these small glimpses of warmth that match her fiery red hair. And sometimes, that warmth is even directed at me.
I smile back.
"I'm glad I could help. What are you researching all this for anyway?" They pause again, so I turn to face them.
"Um, just some light research for fun," Cora lets out a light laugh, but I know it's fake. She might be the epitome of an ice queen, but she's a terrible liar. All I do is nod. If they don't want to share, that's fine. It's none of my business anyway.
"Usually, we aren't this helpless at studying, you know," she clarifies. "But Allistar's our pack nerd, and he isn't around at the moment." Sabrina huffs at the mention of Allistar and looks out the window longingly.
"And that's why Sabrina's been so mopey all the time," Corban adds. I look over at her. She has been quiet.
"I just miss him. We haven't been apart for this long since we met!" She moans as she flops her head into her hands. I can't help the small smile that takes over my features. She must really love him.
"Where is he?" I casually inquire, returning to my rummaging.
"He and Kairos had to return to the Lycan Palace to do some business, they'll be back tomorrow."
Oh. So that's where he is. I definitely have not been hoping to see a certain grey-eyed lycan in our research sessions. And I definitely was not disappointed when I didn't see him.
I am also most definitely a liar.
I aggressively start pulling out papers from the filing cabinet. I don't even know why I care. It's not like that gorgeous, beautiful, addictive lycan would want anything to do with me anyway.
"What'd those papers do to you?" Corban snickers at my angry antics.
"Nothing!" I snap and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.
"Hazel," Sabrina trails off in that gentle, soft voice of hers. "You sure do work a lot."
I can't help the way I crumple the papers I'm holding in my fist.
"There's a lot to be done around here," I try to keep my tone casual.
"Every hour of every day? You're never not working. I mean, what are you even doing in that filing cabinet? Do you even take breaks?"
"I'm cleaning it out. And I do take breaks."
"You're cleaning out every single filing cabinet in the library?"
Yes. Every single one. Because cleaning out the 52 filing cabinets in the Archives takes my mind off of how lonely and sad I am.
Goddess, I really am a rejected loony!
"Hazel, look at me," she urges. I ignore her as I continue to go through the filing cabinet for nothing in particular. Suddenly, she's next to me, and I startle. Damn, lycans move fast! She grabs my shoulders and forcefully turns my body to face her.
"Hazel. Look." She hands me a small handheld mirror. And I see my reflection, something I've been avoiding more than usual recently.
I hate it.
My curly hair looks as dry and brittle as it feels with traitorous wisps who found their way out of my braid standing in all directions. My normally deep tan skin is pale and gaunt. My lips are chapped.
My physical reflection reflects that of my mental state.
I'm withering away, and you can tell just by looking at me. But the worst part is my eyes.
The whites have a slightly yellow hue to them.
I'm ignoring it. I know I'm ignoring it. In the death of the mate bond, the pack bonds I have desperately tried to sustain are suffering. They were always weak to begin with, but the existence, the hope that the mate bond gave me kept me going, kept me from teetering off the edge.
All that's left are the small strings tying me to the three remaining pack mates I have a semblance of a bond with: Mom, Dad, and Florentine. But my bonds with Mom and Dad are slipping.
I can hardly be around them anymore. Whenever I see them, I'm reminded of all the times they put Blessing before me, of all the times they just assumed I'm okay because I always act like I'm okay. It's easier to pretend. It's easier to forgive them that way.
But I can't forgive them anymore.
I'm so angry and I'm so bitter.
My wolf has been silent and unmoving for weeks. The lack of a mate bond is tearing me up inside, clawing at the painful hole I feel in my chest all the time. I know exactly what's happening to me.
I'm at risk of having no bonds. I'm at risk of going rogue.
I thrust Sabrina's mirror back into her hands as I forcefully remove myself from her grip.
"I just have a lot going on at the moment," I say as I turn around. I can feel them looking at each other again. "Would you stop doing that!" I snap and look at the three lycans. Their eyes widened at my tone. "I'm not fucking oblivious. I can tell when you're talking about me!"
"Hazel, we're notâ" Sabrina tries to interject with a gentle voice but for some reason, I'm just not having it. I know they aren't talking about me verbally. Obviously, I can't hear them. But it just feels like they are, and I'm sick of it! I'm sick of everyone talking about me! I haven't done shit, so why do they all talk about me?
"I know what you're thinking," I sneer.
I feel my mind fraying at the seams as words I would never say to anyone spill out my mouth. My thoughts are in disarray and it feels like my brain is splitting in two. Goddess, my head hurts so much.
"Pathetic, lonely, little Archivist, rejected by her mate. She probably fucking deserves it."
"Hazel, that's not what we're saying!" Cora tries this time, but I'm not hearing her anymore. I can practically feel the angry waves of heat piling up inside me, spilling out of my mouth in the form of words and out of my eyes in the form of tears.
"If I go rogue, so fucking be it," I laugh bitterly. The cold smile on my face is a devastating contrast to the tears spilling out of my yellow, tired eyes. "Maybe, I fucking deserve it. Goddess, I will never know why, but everyone seems to think I deserve it, and they think I'm okay with it, so maybe I do."
They're staring at me, but I can't meet their eyes.
I'm so mad. I'm so frustrated. Goddess, I'm so sad.
The shame from my outburst starts to settle as the waves of anger subside.
I'm such a fucking mess. I feel bipolar. One minute, I'm so angry I feel like I could destroy everything, and the next, I'm so sad that I want to curl up in a ball and stop existing.
They probably think I'm crazy. Goddess, I am crazy! I just yelled at them, cussed at them, for absolutely no good reason, when they've been nothing but kind to me!
My hands immediately cup my mouth as my teary eyes widen.
"I'm so sorry!" I squeak, my voice slightly muffled through my hands. I furiously wipe my tears as I start to get up. I need to leave. They probably hate me now. Goddess, I hate me now.
Before I can make a run for it, Sabrina and Cora are out of their seats, their hands gripping my arms. I strain out of their reach, struggling in their grip.
I need to leave.
Being around them, the thought of being around anyone feels so suffocating. I squeeze my eyes shut as I continue to pull out of their grip.
"Please let me go!" I cry out as I try to move, but their hold is unrelenting. "I need to go!"
"Hazel, please." Sabrina pleads with me. The concern in her voice breaks me as I let out a sob.
I don't deserve it. I don't deserve her concern. I don't deserve her kindness.
"We're sorry! We didn't mean to upset you!" That makes me cry even more because they didn't even do anything! It was me. It was all me. I struggle against their grip even more, and I can feel my shoulder muscles straining as they pull my arms back.
"Hazel, you're going to hurt yourself! Please, calm down!" Cora sounds so worried. But I can hardly process her words. I can't breathe. I need to be alone.
"I'm sorry!"
I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know what I'm doing! I'm sad, I'm horrified, I'm angry, I'm feeling so many things and my head feels like its going to split open. I can't think of anything but all I know is I need to go.
"Let me go!"
They're saying things, trying to get me to stay or to calm down, but I can hardly hear them.
I need to go.
It's interesting. I can sense my muscle joints starting to separate as I writhe in their grip, but the pain is so dull it doesn't stop me.
"She's going to dislocate something! You have to let her go! This isn't helping!" Corban exclaims, trying to pull his packmates' hands off me.
"Hazel, just hold on," the sounds of Sabrina's shaky voice fills me with concern, just enough that I can focus.
I stop struggling just enough to look at her. She's crying, I realize. Why is she crying?
"You have to hold on, please! He's coming back..."
Who's coming back?
Before I can listen to the rest of her sentence, her voice fades as the pounding in my head returns.
I cry out in pain and continue struggling in their grip.
My head fucking hurts.
"...just wait for him!" I can hear her again. Wait for who?
Cora lets go of one of my arms, and I swing forward. Only Sabrina is holding onto me now. I take shaky steps forward, with her hanging off my arm. I can hardly feel her weight. She's still talking.
I need to go.
She finally lets go of me and I break into a run, heading towards the exit. I faintly hear Sabrina's last call, "wait for him!"
Word Count: 2913 words
Oh goodness gracious yall.... it's happening.
It's happenignggggkgkgkgkgkgkg!!!!!!!!
What do you think will happen next? New update coming out in a couple days! So stay tuned! I hope you guys are enjoying so far. If you have any feedback, please comment and let me know :). I'd love to hear your thoughts!!
On another note, do any of you watch my hero academia?? I watch it (but not apart of the fandom like that lmfao, if you know you know, i simply just like watching it bc its a good show). I just finished the last episodes of this past season and im losing my mind yall. absolutely losing my freaking minddddd.
Please comment and vote :)! And of course, i hope you all have a wonderfullllll day!!
Love, libahrary