Chapter 35

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My head rested on Blake's chest while I tried to let my brain relax. It was already deep into the night, yet my eyes still refused to shut. I kept thinking about Snider and his sister. Their connection seemed more obvious than ever which made me annoyed that I needed so long to catch onto it.

"Are you asleep?" Blake's voice broke the silence of the night.

His breathing had been so rhythmic that I thought he'd already fallen asleep.

"Nope."

A short silence followed before he continued. "How did you get the scars?"

He ran his fingers along the six scars covering my bare stomach. My first instinct was to instantly shut him down.

Don't, Shyrin stopped me before I could open my mouth. If he had those scars on his body, you wouldn't stop until you got an answer and took your revenge on the person responsible for the horrendous pain.

"I was ten." I was glad for the cover of the night as I didn't want to look him in the eyes while speaking about my past. "I wanted to train with some older pups, but they laughed at me. The emotional idiot I was, I ran off and crossed the pack border. When I finally stopped, two rogues walked up to me. I tried to run away, but I was too slow... One of them had a knife... I was sure I was going to die, but then a third rogue showed up. He killed the other two."

"Who was he?" Blake's hold on me had got a lot tighter as my tale progressed, but I doubted he noticed.

"Do you remember the rogue I stopped you from killing?" I waited for his conformation. "He's the one who saved me... I thought he would kill me like he did with the two rogues, but he just told me to get up..."

My voice trailed off as my thoughts rewound back to that day. The rogue had taught me a valuable lesson back then. He called me a weak, pathetic pup, and he'd been right. He taught me that if I wanted to survive in this world I needed to get stronger. I couldn't count on others to protect me.

"He's the reason I decided to become a strong warrior. I promised myself I would never be at the mercy of anyone else."

"You're not alone anymore. You have me and our entire pack."

I didn't agree with him aloud, but deep down I knew he was right. I wasn't alone anymore.

"Why didn't the scars heal? Was the knife coated in wolfsbane or was it a silver knife?"

"No." I had never told this part to any other living creature, but I guessed there was a first time for everything. "I was so ashamed of my weakness that I ran all the way home and hid in my room. I somehow bandaged the bleeding wounds with a scarf. I kept myself cooped up for a day before Mom snapped."

I could still remember how she barged into my room and almost fainted when she saw my stomach. I didn't know how she managed it, but she somehow composed herself and then dragged me off to the pack hospital.

"It had been already too late. The wounds had partly healed, but they got infected. As I didn't have my wolf yet, I healed at a human pace. The pack doctor said there wasn't anything he could do..."

For months after that Mom had tried to get me to tell her how I got the wounds, but I refused to talk.

"I never told anyone how I got them, not even Mom or Hunter. You're the only one who knows."

Blake was silent for a few moments before I felt his lips brush against the top of my head. "You are the most reckless werewolf I know. But you're also the bravest. I want to kill the bastards who did this to you, but they're already dead... I'm here for you, Ren. Never forget that."

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