Chapter 29 MY PAST
ALISANDER’S POV
Sebastian’s distress pierces me, his sobs racking quietly against him as his body rests on the wall.
His grief is quiet and almost practised from all the years he learnt to be quiet and small.
Every hitch hitch of his breath, the way his chest rises and falls too fast, the subtle tremor in his hands, it all screams panic, fear, and self-blame.
I do not move nor do I speak.
I stay very calm and silent inside him as he breaks down in tears because he needs it.
And if I intervene now, he will only hear anger from me when I do not mean it. And my anger is only coming from a place of fear.
‘You have to forgive me Sebastian’, I think. ‘I fear this would not be the first or last time this would happen.’
Even if you never understand.
Everything I have done, every word that cuts too deep, every push and insult that feels like cruelty from me has been deliberate.
Not done in wickedness or fear.
But in calculation.
Sebastian is alive because I am not gentle with him and he will only survive from here on if I continue like this.
That is the truth I bear, especially since I remember it all now.
At least most of it.
I remember when I still had a body.
I was tall, confident and dashing in all aspects.
I remember my height, my weight and my overwhelming presence.
The way people straightened when I entered a room, their eyes looking up in awe at my very presence.
I remember the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders and the confidence that came with being in command.
I was an Alpha, not just any Alpha but I was a perfect Alpha.
I had managed to merge my wolf with my human self so no we were not two entities in one body but just one in one body.
And because of that, I was confident and didn't want to accept the current state of how things were.
I was curious, maybe a little too curious.
I preferred observation to anything else.
I relied more on science than chalking everything as magical because of the moon goddess.
I preferred the logic of science over magical bullshit.
And because of it, I noticed things others typically ignored.
I noticed patterns in the grief, the loss and in how the bonds with Omegas decayed or got destroyed quite easily.
So I recorded and ran tests.
The bond was the first thing I put my focus in.
It was sacred and untouchable, they said.
I was interfering with something holy, they said.
But I saw what it was causing first hand.
When a mate dies, the Omega feels torture and falls into a coma for days.
Many of them never wake up from this.
And if they did, their thoughts and actions would regress almost to that of a toddler.
They became deluded that their mate was waiting from them in the other side and attemot suicide repeatedly until they were dead.
Because of this, thousands of wolves, deemed “dangerous” or “crazy” after losing their mates, were euthanized quietly by their family as a form of mercy.
While others would pretend and act all was well then go on to kill themselves unable to beat the psychological torment.
A few wolves understood why this happened, fewer cared and almost none were willing to intervene.
But not me,
I did intervene.
I documented case upon case as I watched and tried new methods.
I tried breathing techniques, I tried hypnosis and therapy but none of it worked.
Until I stumbled my way upon a method one night.
Using the saliva of an Omega and the blood of his mate, I managed to weaken the strong hold the mating bite has on us and slowed down the consequences of denying your mate.
And it worked.
Wolves could now form personal bonds and connections before deciding if they wanted to be mates or stay mates to a person.
And it worked brilliantly.
The brutal pain and death wolves go through because of the mate bond was all but erased by me and lives were spared with wolves not needing to follow their dead partners in death.
Word spread quietly.
Desperate Omegas, Betas and even Alphas were trooping into my pack all seeking someone who understands that grief doesn't need to destroy a wolf completely.
From desert packs from the east to northern icebound clans, they all came seeking and pleading for my help.
And that I guess, was my crime.
Not rebellion in any manner or form.
Not defiance to our customs and traditions as wolves.
But simple and pure compassion to dying wolves.
For touching on the one thing that is ‘sacred’.
Then came the accusations.
Self-proclaimed champions of the moon goddess stormed my pack in plenty appearing furious.
They called me a blasphemer and a destroyer of the one true sacred balance.
Apparently trying to reduce the alarming death rate in the realm meant I was a disruptor of divinely ordained law.
I tried to argue my case. I even showed them my results, my calculations and my evidence but it was no use.
They slaughtered all the members of my pack to atone for my crime. Young, old, mated or non mated were all killed that day while I was paralyzed and tied up to watch.
Lightning cracked across the sky as if the heavens agreed with them.
Countless wolves across the realm trembled with fear as they started dreaming of curses and of the goddess’s judgment upon people partaking of what I did.
It was then I understood rather painfully that this wasn't a natural thing, the Moon Goddess herself was orchestrating this all from the start.
As for why? I did not understand.
She has been praised for centuries as the benevolent deity of creation and protector of bonds. So why would she be against this?
Why would she disown me and turn everyone against me?
Even the wolves I had saved, the ones who had come running for help all denied me.
They denounced me and even hunted me.
Every life I had saved, every bond I had helped now stood against me in condemnation.
No one was willing to help me so I fled.
The forest I ran into was an abandoned one, a place where most wolves would steer clear off.
I had no choice.
I was cornered into entering if I wanted to survive the angry mob chasing me.