Untouchable by Marii Solaria

Chapter 37 – The Nightmare

“You think that I can’t see right through your eyes. Scared to death to face reality. No one seems to hear your hidden cries. You’re left to face yourself alone.” – Evanescence, Where Will You Go

Neron

“Why is it so cold?

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05:00

Heavy rain cascades down my face, drenching my body from head to toe. My clothes cling onto my flesh like a second skin with the thieving icy wind zapping the warmth from my body. Goosebumps littered my once glistening tan skin, my hands not generating warmth when I rubbed them together. Desperately.

Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, I saw nothing but grey. Thunder roared above like a lion announcing its claim to the crown, shaking the foundation underneath my feet. The pitter–patter of the fallen water echoed through the air, blocking out any secondary noise that didn’t get the chance to be heard.

Why am I here?

I tried to speak, but my l*ps couldn’t move as if they’re cemented together. With every grunt I made to pry open my l*ps, the effort is futile. Someone must have cast a spell to prevent me from speaking. My frustration. grew. Why? What did I do to deserve my voice to be taken away? My body moves on its own accord, walking through the valley of grey with no sense of direction. Everything looks the same to me from all angles.

I could be walking around in circles, for all I knew.

But then I heard it. The only sound that pushed through the volume saturation of the rain, footsteps. The footsteps sounded meticulous, like someone taking great care to be certain that I could hear them. I followed. the echoing sound to see who else or what else is stuck in this void with me. All contact with people I knew was non–existent, my mind–links blocked by an impenetrable wall that proved too formidable for me.

I ran. I didn’t know how long I ran for. The lactic acid burned in my legs, demanding me to stop, but I disobeyed. I pushed through the pain, desperate to know who the mysterious footsteps belonged to. My desperation poked at my psyche, holding many questions and not enough answers. I needed those answers as to why I was trapped in this void in the first place.

“Why do you feel guilty, Neron? Since when does an Alpha like you feel guilty about anything?”

I skidded to a stop. That voice…

think you

inferno. It directs the questions at me, questioning my feelings and drive. The voice chilled me, but

it means to

“Halima?”

first time you called me by my name. I thought I

gust of wind blew in front of me, commanding the pathway of rain to clear. In front

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saw her in. She was close enough to me that I could touch her. My fingertips ached to capture the fated sparks of our bond. Her lifeless brown skin was bruised, large and sing4:57 in various stages of healing, proudly showing themselves off to their creator. Her matted hair heavily weighted down with water clung onto her neck and face and her dress stuck to her

me. The brown in her eyes void of life but filled with pointed emotion

Sadness.

Hatred.

Vengeance.

Pain.

our broken bond coiled around my neck, choking me with the anger to rival the God

out. “P–Please.

fangs of a deadly cobra. “Nothing would erase what you’ve done to

right. I

know-”

of a slave was nothing to the word of the Alpha. You assigned me the guilt before you gave me the chance to speak! You see these bruises?” She raised her arms, turning them as more colored her skin. “They are an accumulation of the years you battered me. Used me as your punching bag. Instead of the gym, you came to me. I didn’t bleed sand, I bled crimson, and you relished in it with every moment that sunk

artist, Neron. Always have been, even when we were kids. Only this time, my

black, yellow, and green. The colors of the Alpha’s rage. But let’s not forget the red. The endless blood I shed under you and your family. The blood I shed didn’t compare to the lives of your mother and sister, did it? No, I needed to shed more to compensate for their blood sinking into nature’s soils. An eye for an eye, you’d like to say. Blood likes to flow and regenerate, and I held limitless amounts of it. Not a day goes by where I didn’t bleed by an open wound you or your father

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she wanted me to feel. I wanted nothing more than to get on my

with her blood and marred by her suffering. I caused my mate to suffer. I beat her, broke

all the wrongs I dealt her with. The wind blew harsher as her fingers lingered