Description
Pain. Every time he looked at me, I could see it in his eyes. But it wasn't there long, soon after it was replaced by sadness. Then, finally, anger and betrayal. I couldn't understand it at first, I guess I was too young then. I wondered, but the realization always slipped my grasp. I understood now. He did to me what had been done to him, by the one he loved. By the one he thought would love him back, even for all that he was. He believed my mother would love him always, and for a while, she did. So lost in the joy of meeting her mate, she had not been able to see past the haze of love to how much he despised me. Who could be alright with a child who belonged to their mate but had not been his biologically? A good man would have. A ruthless, self-centered coward, could not have even fathomed accepting me as his. And he didn't. In fact, after my mother disappeared, after the last barrier that kept me from harm was gone, at just barely the age of eleven, the beatings started.
Author's Note
