The Black Alder Series (Books 1-3)

AUTHORS NOTEBelongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

CAUTION This chapter has rape and violence in it. This message is for anyone with a trigger. Please don’t go further for potential triggers. Skip the chapter. If you’ve been sexually assaulted, please call a friend or family member or call the abuse hotline at (800) 656-4673. Kayla Pov 18 Liam and I were married, and he took the Alpha position. The ceremony was short. I didn’t even bother dressing up. I didn’t have anything expensive to wear anyway. I had never pictured my life going this route. I always knew I was sent here for a reason, but I just assumed it was so I could be another staff member for this pack. Now here I am. Wife and Luna to a man and pack who hate me. After our wedding, my stuff was brought out of the servant’s quarters to Liam’s room. Liam had all of my stuff burned immediately. He made sure to have a shoe closet prepared for me in the room to sleep in. With a flat mattress on the floor. He had a lock installed on the door, pushed me in, and told me to get comfortable as it would be where I would spend the rest of my days.

When I started to cry and beg to go back to the servant quarters, he pushed me on the floor and kicked me in the stomach. He hit me wherever he wanted to, except the face. He never hits me in the face. He has to preserve my face for our allies. I would be glad if we received visits from allies. I would get to eat actual food rather than have scraps thrown at me in my closet or room. I hold my necklace, trying to bring myself peace. It helps a little. The pack knows how he treats me, yet they do nothing. They hate me as their Luna. He would bring his mistresses into the room and make me sit in a chair as he cuffed my hands behind my back to watch him fuck them.

The sight always made me sick. Whenever someone pissed him off, he would always come to our room and beat me. If I’m sleeping, he will kick me awake or burn me. My body was so full of his scars. Every time one healed, he would make another one. It was his favorite hobby now. Once, I became so numb to all the hits and scars, and I didn’t cry. He was pissed off because she couldn’t get an emotion out of me until he tied my feet together and my hands behind my back and watched as his mistresses cut into me.

The doctor was the only one who was sympathetic to me, as she was the one who put me back together each time. I begged her to let me die, but she says, as a doctor, her job is to save lives. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t have enough life inside of me to want to be saved anymore.

None of that was the worst, though. The worst of it came on my 18th birthday. He was drunk when he came into the room. I could smell the alcohol from the closet I was in. He had served me cake earlier that day. I was suspicious, but I knew he wouldn’t poison me; his dad would kill him. I ended up eating the birthday cake from the kitchen, happy, and hoping things would finally change. He even told me I could sleep on his bed, which was also strange, but I was feeling drowsy and sleepy not long after, so he picked me up and took me to bed. I felt like the whole room was spinning.

“Liam,” I slurred, trying to tell him I felt wrong.

“Shhhhh,” he said, and I took off my clothes. I thought he was stripping me for bed. He started kissing me on my body, and I admit, it felt really good, so I let out a little moan. His kisses were light somehow, and I enjoyed them. He then put his fingers inside me. I know I didn’t want this.

“Stop,” I slurred, trying to push his hands away from me. He ignored me and continued to slide his fingers in and out. It hurt. My energy was sapped from my body. My stomach was hurting. I heard a metal sound and saw him take off his shirt. I panicked because I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn’t stop it. He positioned himself on top of me as I tried to cry. I tried to scream for help, but it came out in small yelps. I felt him shove himself inside me, popping something inside instantly.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to breathe. He was raping me, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. After he came inside, he pushed himself off me. He then picked me up and tossed me back in the closet, locking the door. I bled all over the floor. When the fog cleared away, I couldn’t move. I soiled myself in the room. I was stuck to the floor. He smelled me and came inside to kick my nude body as punishment for peeing on the floor. I still didn’t move. I closed my eyes. I heard him call for a doctor. The doctor asked what happened. He told her we had “celebrated” my birthday. The doctor covered me with a blanket and carried me to the hospital. She checked on me and saw the blood.

She tried to ask me questions, but I couldn’t speak. She cleaned me up and bandaged my wounds. She stayed with me for a few days in the hospital until I finally started speaking, but I would only nod yes or no to questions. Other nurses tried to come to take my temperature, but I wouldn’t let them touch me. Dr. Lauren could touch me. She has been cleaning me up for years, and I don’t trust anyone else.

Dr. Lauren is my only light in the darkness. With her blonde hair and gray eyes, she is possibly the only good person here who I can count on to help me when it comes to healing, since no other pack member will lift a finger to help me. While she cleans my cuts and gives me medication, she tells me about how I remind her of her young daughter. Her daughter was killed in a rogue attack a few years after she was born. Her mate killed himself in suicide a few months after it, and she has been alone ever since. Alpha Derek found her alone and brought her to the pack, not out of sympathy but because he barely had any doctors there. If they have no use, they have no reason to be here. Healing from being raped is not an easy thing to do.

I stayed in the hospital for a whole week. When I got out, I could see all the faces staring at me. Some were laughing, calling me a slut. I heard someone telling the story to someone else, saying I was drunk and threw myself on Liam and his buddies. My heart couldn’t bear it anymore. I went back to my closet and closed the door, staying there. Liam would come and toss me out of it sometimes and toss me on the bed, letting me know he was about to fuck me again. I didn’t respond. I hadn’t talked since that day. I gave up. Even my necklace wouldn’t bring me any more peace.

He didn’t like that. He preferred to watch me cry and scream, but I had none of that left. Eventually, he left me alone, and I kept to myself after. There was nothing he could do to make me further hate myself, even more than I do now.