(POV - Marcus)

~ Present~

His knuckles bled through the straps on his hands, but the bruising was nothing. The pain was nothing.

The punching bag swung on the chain connecting it to the ceiling, the metal creaking under the weight of the bag and the force of his punches. Sweat dripped down his temples, off the tip of his nose, and slid down his neck. The vest he wore was drenched with it, the soaked fabric clinging to him like a second, stifling skin. He'd lost track of how long he'd spent in the gym, decimating punching bag after punching bag.

His shoulders ached, his arms straining as he threw another jab, biceps curled and tense. He kept his bleeding hands up, fingers loose and near his ears, the muscles in his back locked and ready.

He could feel the agitation gnawing on the far reaches of his mind. His rut was close, and he had a few days at best before he'd have to lock himself away and spend yet another rut alone. He'd tried to work through the tension that had built up over the last few weeks, driving him further into a corner.

It felt worse this time around. His rut had always been difficult, especially since the passing of his mate. He'd had to spend the last few years holed up, so he didn't hurt anyone when he was in the throes of it.

This time, his rut could send him into a much darker place, somewhere most wolves never returned from.

This rut could be the very last straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak, and made him entirely feral.

It had been bad, and probably felt worse when he went into rut for the first time after Helena had died. It had been months after she and their son had died, months after he'd lost his title as Alpha.

He hadn't been able to dedicate himself to his pack after the loss of his mate. After finding her dead on their bed and mourning her, he'd fallen into a blind rage. He'd snarled at Jaden, ordering his Beta to leave him alone, and he went on a hunt. It took a few weeks to track down the rest of the rogue pack that had caused him to lose everything he held dear.

When he finally found them, he let his wolf take full control for the first time ever, only coming to after murdering every single wolf in sight. He'd stood alone in the carnage, shifting back to his human form to dampen the toxic scent of blood and spilled guts. Sweat and blood covered every inch of his body, dripping from his fingertips. His feet slid in the mud as he trudged back into the wilderness, walking numbly for days on end. No food, no sleep, until his old packhouse came into view.

Jaden had seemingly materialized at his side, eyes wide and reeking of worry and concern that Marcus didn't deserve.

He didn't deserve the care and devotion of his pack. He'd failed his mate, he'd failed their son. And he'd failed his pack by slipping into himself, disregarding his duties and neglecting the role of Alpha. He didn't organize the patrols anymore. Jaden had taken over, allowing Marcus time and space to grieve. But his grief would never leave him. It would be permanent, and he would never be a good Alpha ever again.

So he'd left, shrugging off Jaden's protests with a gruff, "Don't look for me."

Jaden had let him go, watching Marcus leave without a word. There wasn't much that could be said that would change Marcus's mind, and he was so desperate to get away, to disappear into the blur of the woods and fade out of their memories as the Alpha who lost his Luna.

It hadn't been an easy transition.

Living as a lone wolf had damaged

his sanity, and he eventually sought

out the company of a pack of real

wolves, who had accepted him, albeit

hesitantly, into their pack.

He lived alongside them, learning how to survive the way they did, off the land around them. It was hard, leaving his human instincts behind like he'd never shift back, and for a long time, he really believed he'd live out the remainder of his life in his wolf's body.

He didn't see much of a point in shifting back. The agony was so much more keen when he was human somehow. It was easier to give over to his animal instincts, to let the grief and pain whittle away under the stress of hunting for food and living with a constant glance over his shoulder. While trying to make sure nothing was stalking him, threatening to kill him when he was least aware.

It was so much easier to breathe with his wolf's lungs, the air lighter than when he was human. He wasn't plagued by as many nightmares that way, although he did still spend far too many nights jolting from his slumber, trembling all over after being assaulted by visions of Helena's mangled corpse. The vision of her soaked in her own blood, screaming at him and demanding to know why he hadn't saved her. It was more than he could take, and he found a temporary comfort in his wolf form.

He'd lived that way for a year, his humanity draining away along with his insanity. He was certain he'd lost the ability to speak until Jaden found him one day.

Marcus had wanted to attack, not immediately recognizing his former Beta wolf, who hadn't even changed since the last time they'd seen one another two years back. But a tiny, human part that had managed to stay alive pulled him back, forcing him to open his eyes and see the wolf before him.

At first, he didn't believe it, but the longer he stared, the more real Jaden became, until Marcus found himself shifting back to his human form for the first time in years.

He was probably covered in grime, too dirty to step anywhere near Jaden, but Jaden shifted as well.

"We need you to come back, Marc," was the first thing he said.

Marcus frowned, searching for his voice.

"What the hell for, Jaden?" His words were rough with disuse, and Jaden winced. He likely knew exactly how long Marcus had stayed a wolf just by his scent.

"The Alpha that took our pack," Jaden explained. "He's evil. He's a tyrant and no one can reason with him."

Marcus looked away, too aware of the despair in Jaden's eyes. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to step inside the home he once shared with Helena. He couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in the room she'd died in, along with their stillborn son.

He couldn't face the pack that he'd failed and then abandoned for over a year.

He could barely look Jaden in the eye.

"I don't know, Jaden," he murmured. "What good will I be as an Alpha, anyway?"

"That's not the point, Marc, and you know it. He's forcing Inara to be his mate."

Marcus did look at Jaden then, struck by the name he hadn't heard in so long. Inara had been his childhood friend, and they eventually grew to be lovers. Once he found Helena, all that had ended, but they'd remained very close friends despite the end of their romantic relationship.

But he still couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Please, Marc, I know you're hurting and I know it'll be hell to go back without her," Jaden pleaded, taking a step forward, his hands up placatingly. "But I'm not asking as your Beta. I'm asking as your best friend. Things haven't been the same without you. And with this tyrant, it's only getting worse."

Marcus had stalked off, leaving Jaden alone in the clearing they'd met in and trying to clear the confusion in his mind.

He couldn't go back. He wouldn't. Not for anyone. He'd left them all for a reason, and his return wouldn't do anyone any good.

"You always were a stubborn wolf."

His stomach lurched, and he almost keeled over in shock. He stared at the apparition of his dead mate in awe and agony, his jaw slack.

"Don't look so surprised," she chuckled. "You didn't think I'd really left you all alone?"

He couldn't answer, frozen in his wolf's form. She sighed, her voice hollow and ethereal.

"This isn't you, darling," she scolded him gently. "You're not some insane animal. You're an Alpha, and you always will be. Ground yourself in reality and go back home. Earn that title back and show them why you were my Alpha. Show them why you could never be challenged."

He'd conceded, even though his wolf fought him every step of the way. The pair traveled back to their home in an uncomfortable silence. Marcus could tell that Jaden had so many questions, but he didn't voice any of them, and they continued.

The air began to smell familiar, the trees and streams that passed them clicking like puzzle pieces in Marcus' mind. This was their territory.

Except there was a foul stench hanging over the trees.

A stench Marcus knew all too well.

Fear.

The pack was rank with it, so obviously scared of the tyrant Alpha that they lived in perpetual terror. Marcus' heart squeezed painfully, hoping that he would be able to save them from this horror.

He had, and he'd earned back his title just as Helena had instructed him.

He had, and he'd earned back his title just as Helena had instructed him.

It had been hell, just as Jaden had predicted. He could still remember the fresh pain ripping through his chest when saw his home, when he realized that he could no longer find Helena's scent mixed with his own.

He knew it would never end, but he chose to embrace the pain and let it keep him sane instead. He wouldn't run away anymore.

He would stay for Helena.