I softly kiss the back of Azazel’s neck again and move to sit in his lap while he is still sitting on the edge of the lake. I lean my head on his shoulder and feel him stiffen. I slowly snake his arms around my waist and let out calming pheromones, hoping he will relax. He looks at Xavier who gives him an encouraging smile before hopping onto the edge with us. Xavier sits behind Azazel and wraps his arms around both of us.
“Azazel no matter what it is, we will still be your friends,” I tell him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Are…. are you sure you want to hear it?” Azazel asks in a low whisper, almost too quiet for us to hear. I nod and Xavier gives him a soft smile. “Okay then,” Azazel says pulling me a little closer, “where do I begin?” “Just tell us whatever you are comfortable with us knowing,” I say as I relax into his chest.
“Okay…well, I’m sure as they told you my mom died during my birth. Her system reacted negatively to some of the drugs the doctor gave her. As you were probably also told, I was not let out of the house often so not many people saw me. I do remember briefly meeting people every now and again, but every time I did they would look at me funny because of the bruises on my body. I tried my hardest to hide them, but it’s hard to do when you are young and they are scattered on your body, including your face. You follow?” Azazel stops talking to take a deep breath.
I tilt my head to the side in confusion, “but…Azazel…how did you get all the bruises?”
He flinched at my question, causing Xavier to tighten his hold on us in a protective manner. “You are safe, you can tell us and you will remain safe,” Xavier says to Azazel. Azazel lets out a deep breath he was holding.
“My dad blamed me for my mother’s death. He beat me. It didn’t matter how good I did in my home schooling or how clean I kept the house; he would hit me. When I was about 5, he started sneaking me out to fighting rings. He would put me up against other werewolves, even if they were twice my size. A 5-year-old shouldn’t go through that…. No one should, but certainly not a child…” He pauses and I hear him sniffle. I look up to see him crying silently. I lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek gently, releasing a steady stream of calming pheromones, helping him to stay as calm as possible while going through these dark memories.
“I had broken ribs, broken legs, arms, nose, even had my cheek bone broken once. I kept fighting no matter how bad it got. This continued until I was 10. I did those fight rings for 5 years…and the whole time my father was developing a dependency on alcohol. He would drink all day, litter the house with bottles, take me to the fights, and if I lost, I got the shit beat out of me by him. Hell, even if I won, he beat me, only not as harsh as if I lost,” Azazel paused, grinding his teeth together, “One particular day, close to my 11th birthday, I lost a fight because my mind was preoccupied. I was upset because I was tired of not living a normal life and I couldn’t stop thinking of my mother. I wish she would have lived instead of me… but that’s besides the point. My father came into my room extra drunk… and this time… he… he… he didn’t just…beat me.”
I looked at Azazel giving him my full attention, waiting for him to continue and I know he had Xavier’s full attention as well by the way Xavier was leaning his head on Azazel’s shoulder looking at him.
Azazel started sobbing, “That night…. he tried… to…. Rape…. me after beating me… told me I shouldn’t look so much like my mother…. That… she… should be alive… and… and not me… I screamed as loud as I could… I kicked, I hit him, I tried running away…. He always had the upper hand… I was finally able to grab the baseball bat in the corner of the room…” Azazel took a few deep breathes to try to calm his sobbing, so as he did, I wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I first knocked his knees from behind causing him to fall… but he grabbed my foot. He tripped me… he started to undo my pants. I couldn’t let it happen. I said no. I didn’t want it. So I beat his head in with the bat until he wasn’t breathing anymore. By the time I realized what I was doing I was horrified…. I jumped out the window and ran into the woods. I kept running. Until I found this place.”
I threw my arms around Azazel’s neck and pulled him close while Xavier kissed his neck and hugged us closer to him. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” I whispered in his ear. But he shook his head, “you guys should know the full story before you make your decision to stay my friends or not.”
“I jumped in the lake to clean myself and as I was under the waterfall doing so I found the cave. I ended up staying for weeks. Weeks became months and months became years. I taught myself to hunt, I went through my ruts alone, I taught myself how to sense other wolves or danger, I taught myself all ways of life that I didn’t learn from my dad when I was with him. All I ever learned from him was how to fight, which did help me survive in the end, but that’s not the point. I finally went back to town for clothes 5 years later and everyone hated me. I did nothing and I was hated. I didn’t know why. I just wanted to get my stuff and go, but I went through more. They called me all names under the sun. They threw things at me. I had a few try to hit me. I just kept my head down and let it happen. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to live my life. I’m sure your dad told you what happened when he saw me, so I won’t go into that because I trust he told you the truth. He allowed me into the school under another name so I could finish my education and make something of myself.”
I stopped him in his story, “But Azazel, if he is letting you go back to school, where do you live? We haven’t seen you around town nearly often enough for you to live there.”
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