Second Assault — Bond And Treason —

Chapter 18 - Half of My Body

ALEXEI

—Angelo — I have to fight to be able to pronounce the words through the thick knot that has been

created in my throat —. For God's sake, tell me it's not true... — he lowers the gaze and begins to twist

his fingers nervously on the lap.

Yaakov rests the elbows on his knees and drops his head between the hands.

—Shit... — I hear him whispering. I jump up and walk in long strides across the room.

I have trouble breathing, my body feels stiff and tense, sweat drops begin to slide down my forehead

and my pulse beats rapidly in my neck.

I remove the coat from my suit, my tie and throw it somewhere, too immersed in my turbulent thoughts

to care.

I release three buttons from my shirt and try to make the air fill my lungs

—Magnus, stop — My cousin's voice causes just a distant sound echo in my head. I can't see

anything, I can't hear anything. I feel only anger. Red, thick, toxic, rotten anger. Images of Xander being

hurt, tortured, outraged and humiliated mock my sanity with disturbing constancy.

My claws begin to extend at the ends of my fingers, the hair on the back of my neck gets longer and so

do my fangs. My breath is shaking incredibly fast and my lucidity seems to leave me with the same

speed.

—That's enough! — Yaakov puts the hands on my shoulders and squeezes hard, shaking me. That's

when I notice the smell of blood... I'm bleeding —. Stop it! — My claws have pierced my palms, making

red drops fall on the clean wooden floor, and I don't know at what moment I have torn the fabric of my

shirt, causing long, thin scratches to pierce the skin of my torso.

—Yaakov, I need... — the words come out practically in grunts, my wolf tearing me apart inside, trying

to take over —. I need to... Run — He stares at me and I notice the understanding gaining clarity in his

features. He nods slowly and the grip loosens, though he still doesn't release me.

—It's okay. Just make sure you don't spend the night out — he leans closer to whisper —. Remember,

Xander still needs you.

Nodding, unable to formulate the words, blinking quickly to chase away the persistent tears that

threaten to come out. Yaakov holds me by one arm and guides me to the exit. I don't know if Angelo is

following us and honestly, I'm not interested at this moment.

What I need now is to give some relief to the weight that has just settled on my shoulders. By the time

we get out, the sun is already setting on the horizon and the sounds of cicadas and birds flying around

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I take a deep breath, trying to retain the change a little longer.

—On the way here I could see a small creek over there — points out the direction I should take —. You

can wander around there peacefully, but don't do anything crazy, Magnus. Do you understand me? — I

nod again, biting my lips so hard that the metallic taste invades my taste buds —. Give some relief to

your wolf and when you return, I'll make sure I have new clothes and food for you and Xander.

He pats me on the back and I start walking, towards a pile of trees on the side of the house, into the

forest surrounding the property.

When I make sure I am out of sight, I strip off the remaining items of clothing, my shoes, and release

myself. The change subdues my human side, leaving the domain to my animal one. Suddenly, I no

longer have feet or hands, but paws. My ears are now long and pointed, my snout extended with a

keen sense of smell and a thick, hairy tail.

The sensations overwhelm me for a few seconds, until I start running. I run and run until I reach the

small creek that Yaakov mentioned. The water is crystal clear and surrounded by lush grass in shades

of green, brown, and yellow.

I approach it and allow my legs to get wet with its warmth. Sadness takes hold quickly and without limit

in the solitude that surrounds me. I suffer for Xander, I grieve for his cruelly stolen virtue and I sorrow

that I was stupid enough to let something like this happen.

I tilt my head back, filling my chest with air, and through a howl, I cry. I cry to Mother Moon. The

strength and the intensity make me feel as if my throat is tearing, my claws are dipping into the ground

under me and I ask for resistance, which seems to have abandoned me.

My wolf feels helpless and defeated, having failed miserably to protect his Omega and I share his pain

with growing disappointment.

By the time I return, still in my animal form, Yaakov is waiting for me, sitting on a chair at the entrance

to the house, a pair of clothes resting on one thigh, and a cigarette is held between his fingers, leaving

a small cloud of smoke dissipating into the air.

Lights shine through the windows. I stop for a moment, gathering the courage I feel lacking, until

Yaakov looks up and notices my presence. He extinguishes the cigarette with the sole of the shoe,

stands up and approaches me, holding the clothes.

—Better? — he asks once he manages to stand inches away. I invoke my human side and feel the

changes take over my body once again. Until I am finally on my feet again, as God brought me into the

world.

—Yes — I answered once I can speak, when in reality I want to cry out and learn how to appease the

burning pain in my heart —. Let's say yes.

—Here — passing me the clothes, a white wool sweater, some worn-out black jeans and a pair of

shoes —. Cover yourself up and join us for dinner — I slide the clothes over my skin until my figure is

properly covered. Yaakov nods for me to follow him.

Inside the house, a smell of freshly baked cake and wine invades my nostrils. In the dining room,

Angelo sits with a laptop on the table, wiggling the fingers skillfully on the keyboard. Yaakov passes by

me and sits down next to him. In the kitchen is Rosé with big oven mitts reaching down to her elbows,

pulling a tray with a golden cake out of the oven. Xander is beside her, stacking a couple of plates and

placing several pieces of cutlery on top.

I lean against the wall, resting my weight on one of my shoulders, unable to avoid watching him. He's

wearing a long scarlet red nightie that almost hides his little hands, with black pants just like mine, with

gaps that expose the skin on his knees. He is barefoot and I know perfectly well that it is on his

initiative.

And his face is inexpressive... I don't know if it's because he's concentrated on the task at hand, or

because he hides something more intense behind those beautiful blue eyes. My heart is pounding in

my chest as I watch him more and more, the feeling of failure take over. He turns on his feet and walks

towards the dining room holding the dishes. After leaving them on the table, he realizes that I am there

and his gaze connects to mine.

He smiles... And it is the most sincere and radiant smile I have seen on his beautiful face since this

morning and one of the many I have missed from him since he was taken from me. Quickly runs in my

direction and surrounds my neck with the arms, I with mine encircle his waist and lift him slightly off the

ground. He is thinner, his limbs have lost volume too. I take one hand to his head and bury my fingers

through the strands of his hair.

—Smells good, kitty — smiles at me again as I bring us both closer to the dining room —. Did you

cook? — he moves the head up and down, nodding at my question. I still worry about his refusal to

talk, but the last thing I want is for him to feel pressured to do something that he's not willing to do.

—I'm glad you're back — Angelo says, closing the laptop and pulling it aside —. And just in time for

dinner — Xander steps away from me, pulls out one of the chairs, and points to it, indicating to me to

take a seat. The gesture makes me laugh, but I still follow along and drop into the furniture.

Between him and Rosé finish setting the table, serve the plates of food, and place them in front of each

other. Xander sits next to me and gets so close that our hips touch.

I understand his gesture and by wrapping one of my arms around his waist, I draw him further towards

me. And so, in this uncomfortable position, we finish our food. Yaakov and Angelo help pick up the dirty

dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge.

—You should go rest, Mr. Magnus — Rosé suggests —. We'll take care of everything else — she

smiles at me and addresses Xander —. Make sure you apply the cream like I told you and take the

pills. Okay? — Xander looks down at the hands on his lap, but still nods, looking embarrassed. I kiss

him on the cheek and stand up, extending my hand in his direction, which he doesn't hesitate to take.

—Thanks for everything.

—Don't mention it — she discards, her smile widened —.Good night — By the time we close the

bedroom door, Xander seems a little anxious or nervous. I don't know what's going on in that little head

of his, but the last thing I want is for him to be afraid of me.

—Is something wrong, kitty? — I ask cautiously. He denies quickly with the head but I know he's lying. I

approach and stroke his cheek with one hand —. Don't you trust me? — He opens wide the eyes and

rushes to nod —. Then what is happening? — His lips move and for a moment, I have hope that his

soft, sweet voice will slip through them.

But it doesn't occur. He turns towards a table at the side of the bed and holds what I see as a black

notebook, a string with a pencil attached to it. He opens it and begins to write on one of the pages.

When he finishes, lifts it, letting me see the writing.

—"I'm scared, Magnus" — A chill seizes my body, but I don't let it reflect in my expression how affected

those few words made me.

—Of what? You're with me now, Xander. I won't let anyone hurt you — shakes the head and writes

again.

—"Of you not liking me anymore" — the air escapes my mouth in a faint gasp. I read and reread the

message on the worn sheet of paper and I still don't believe what is written.

—But what are you talking about, Xander? — A scowl forming between my eyebrows —. That'll never

happen. You're my partner. You know I love you — his eyes turn crystalline and as he starts scribbling

again on the page of the little notebook, his hands begin to tremble.

—"He did things to me"— there's a word crossed out in the middle of the sentence. As much as I try to

understand what it says, I can't, so I hurry to read the rest —. "My body is not the same as it used to

be... You won't like it" — a lonely tear runs down his cheekbone and I gently push it away with my

knuckles. He closes the eyes and leans towards the touch.

—Xander, look at me — opens the eyes and slowly looks up until he connects it to mine —. Don't you

ever think anything like that again. Do you understand?

Bites his lower lip, nervously, but nods.

—No matter what has happened, my love for you has not diminished one ounce. You can never disgust

me and something like this will never change my opinion. You are as much a part of me as I am a part

of you — I lean forward and gently kiss his lips —. Do you love me?

I whisper and he moves the head slowly up and down, while another tear makes its way across his

face.

—I love you, too, Xander. You're half my body, just like I'm half yours. Without you, I don't exist, without

you, I don't have a lung to breathe, without you, I don't have the will to live — I brush the tip of his nose

with mine, and he starts purring so softly that if I wasn't so close, I doubt I'd be able to hear it —.So

don't be afraid anymore. Okay? — I stand back long enough to see him nod once more. I take his hand

and lead us both into the bathroom.

Xander seems a little reluctant, but he still allows himself to be driven. When we're inside, I close the

door, leaving us locked inside the four porcelain-covered walls. I take off my sweater and pants, trying

to keep my movements slow and steady. He just stands there, watching me as I strip, until I am

completely naked.

—I won't push you, Xander, I promise. So you have nothing to fear — that seems to relieve him, as I

sense his shoulders losing tension. Before I begin with his clothes, I remove the BTE's to prevent the

water from damaging them. Then I bring the hands to the hem of his sweater and pull it up, eventually

removing it from his body.

Swallowing thickly by getting a clear view of the wounds that extend along his torso. My jaw tightens

and I force myself to keep moving.

My fingers go to the button on his pants and I successfully slide it through the buttonhole, unzipping it

and sliding the garment down his shaky legs until it is completely off. Small spots in shades of purple,

green, and yellow spread across his thighs, arms, chest, and back.

But it's the ankles and wrists that get my attention the most. That's where the skin looks most battered

and bruised. I am not aware of how long I stare at his nakedness, but I suddenly react when he tries to

cover himself. I quickly interrupt and lead him into the shower, turning on the tap and leveling the water

temperature until it is warm.

—Never cover yourself in front of me, kitty — I say as I guide him down the water, talking slowly so that

he can understand me —. Never be ashamed of yourself. I swear there's nothing about you that has

stopped me from liking you — he smiles, though he's still a little self-conscious.

We both finished showering amidst soft little caresses. I turn off the water, go outside and dry myself

fast, tying the towel to my waist. I grab another one from the shelf and with much more delicacy I do the

same with him, relieved that he doesn't avoid my touch. I put the hearing aids back on, so that he can

hear me without any problems.

Once ready, I carry him and lead us back to the bedroom. I don't turn the lights on, I know very well that

he prefers the dark. I gently lay him down on the bed, take off my towel by dropping it on the floor and

lie down next to him, covering both of us with the sheet. He reaches into the side table drawer to find

some pills, but I stop him before he can put them in his mouth. He looks puzzled, but lets himself be

done while I make him lie down on his back again.

—Drink from me, kitty — I extend the fangs and bite my wrist, until I taste the metallic flavor on my

tongue. Then I place it on his half-open lips, little drops of blood staining his chin —. This will help you

get better faster and will not prevent our bond from connecting.

He sticks out the tongue and tests me, before surrounding my wound with those thick lips. I feel the

suction as his throat moves, swallowing the red fluid.

—That is — I whisper to him, stroking his hair with my free hand, his eyes slowly closing, letting himself

be carried away by tiredness and sleeplessness.

I gently separate my wrist from his lips and lick the wound to close it. He curls up closer to me, with the

face in the hollow of my neck and sighs, as he surrenders to Morpheus' arms.

—Sleep, kitty. When you open your eyes again, I'll be here with you.