6. Memories

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ryder asks tentatively beside me.

"Fuck off!" I say.

I know him well enough to know he's not some lily-livered idiot. He uses that tone whenever he thinks he can persuade me to do something I don't want to do.

He continues talking anyway, as if he didn't hear me telling him to get lost.

"I mean, whatever made you so furious that you're growling can't be about Red..."

He's reaching.

He pauses, probably waiting for me to confirm or deny what he just said.

I continue ignoring him.

"It must be about your family, then..."

"I don't have a family!" I shout the words as I stand, intending to walk away before I end up strangling him out of sheer frustration.

God!

How many times do I have to tell this fool to stop referring to those people as my family? Blood relations alone don't make someone family.

Vladimir made that very clear the day he cast me out and sent me to Evan. And Evan couldn't have made it any clearer when he explained it to me in plain words.

As much as I hate remembering those moments of weakness from when I was five years old, I can't stop the nightmares from tormenting my nights.

I move farther away from Ryder and squeeze my eyes shut, balling my hands into fists as I try to shut out the memory of my first encounter with the son of a bitch.

It doesn't work.

The bastard's grinning face penetrates the wall I've built around my mind and looms over me. Now I understand why his freakishly large teeth reminded little me of Fury, Vladimir's prized stallion.

"I see your grandfather finally found out the truth and kicked you out."

His first words to me echo clearly in my ears as the scene from that day unfolds in my mind.

"That crazy old coot! He wants you dead, but he sent you to me because he needs a villain to carry out his dirty work."

"Wh-what?!... Villain?!"

Seeing the confusion on my face, he crouched to my height and looked directly into my eyes.

"You don't know what that means?" He chuckled, but there was no amusement in his eyes. They were as cold as a rattlesnake's.

"It means an evil man. Your grandfather sent you to me to be killed."

"Ki-killed!?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

That couldn't be!

Vladimir might not be the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve, but he was still my grandfather.

Although I watched my mother curse and fight him to prevent his men from taking me away, yet I still found it difficult to believe that the man who had taken me hunting after I grew my fangs, the man who had taught me to hunt and kill animals with nothing but my claws and fangs would actually want me dead.

But this man they had introduced to me as my father? He looked heartless enough to kill me without batting an eyelid.

"But you're–you’re my father!" The words came out in a tiny, trembling voice.

He wouldn't kill me or would he?

"Father?!"

He spat the word as though it disgusted him. "You are no son of mine, hybrid!" He growled.

Hatred was written all over his face, made even clearer by the way he emphasized every word.

I took a frightened step backward. He grabbed my collar and jerked me forward.

"Let me tell you something, little bastard. Your grandfather threw you away to die. What makes you think I would want you?" He sneered.

"Nobody! Absolutely no one in this life would want an abomination like you!" His voice dripped with hatred.

"Yelena was stupid to allow herself to get pregnant by a werewolf. She was in love, that fool. She thought we were in love, but I was only using her for her venom." He chuckled darkly.

"So if you're looking for someone to blame, blame your foolish mother for falling in love and bringing you into this world where your kind aren't welcome."

Tears sprang into my eyes as he continued ranting. I didn't understand some of the words he used. But everything boiled down to one statement.

"Absolutely no one in this life would want an abomination like you."

Abomination.

I had heard that word before. I think it was two days before my grandfather came to take me away. My cousin, Dimitri, had shouted it at me after I bested him in a fight.

"My mom said you're an abomination! Your father is a rabid dog, and your mother is a shameless whore who spreads her legs for dogs."

I almost ripped his heart out in a fit of rage.

When I asked my mother about what he said, she simply smiled and told me not to worry. She would handle it.

Abomination.

Hybrid.

Why did they call me that? And what did he mean by ‘your kind’? What had I done that made them not want me?Why had my grandfather sent me away to be killed?

"Aww, don't cry." Evan's voice softened mockingly. He wiped a tear from my face with the tip of his finger. "You don't need to be afraid. All you need to do is buckle up and be brave for what's coming next."

"Huh?... Wh-what?"

"Have you sprouted your fangs yet? If not, then I have no use for you. Your staying alive will depend on whether you can give me what I was getting from your mother before she stopped seeing me."

Then he suddenly barked:

"Secure him!"

One of his men rushed forward and grabbed my arm.

"Just him?!" He shouted, glaring at the others. "Fucking morons! He's a fucking hybrid! An original vampire and werewolf hybrid! Forget the innocent look. If he has grown his fangs, then that means he's the most dangerous motherfucker in this room."

He pointed toward the dart guns in their hands.

"Who do you think those are meant for? Me?! Fucking idiots!"

The man holding my arm immediately released me as though I were scalding hot and took several steps backward. I looked from him to the others in confusion.

What was he talking about?

You're mistaken. I am a vampire. I'm not a werewolf. I don't even know what a hybrid is!

I wanted to scream those words at them. But fear and panic clamped my mouth shut when Evan snatched a gun from one of his men and pointed it at me.

"No!"

That was the only word I managed to scream before the darts struck me repeatedly and darkness swallowed everything.

Ryder's loud sigh drags me back to the present.

"Hey, man... umm... my bad, okay? I promise it won't happen again, all right? And—"

"Leave."

My voice leaves no room for argument.

"Okay."

After a long pause, he walks out.

The moment the door closes behind him, I return to my chair and crash into it. He already acknowledged his mistake. I'm simply not in the mood to talk about anything right now. The kingdom. Work. Rowan. Especially family.

Conversations or even thoughts about my so-called family always leave me in a terrible mood. And I don't want to take my anger out on Ryder. I've hated myself afterward the few times I've done that. We've been through too much together. I don't know if I'd still be alive, or even be the man I am today, if he hadn't put his life on the line for me so many times. I consider him more than family. He is my blood.

My body begins to relax as my anger slowly dissipates. And then I remember the first time we met. That day, like every other day after I'd been sedated, I woke to the smell of blood in my cell. Every time they extracted my venom, I was given a small cup of blood.

"Your reward," Evan once told me as if I should be grateful. As if I should worship at his feet over the measly cup that also happened to be my only food.

But this particular scent was different from the stale cattle blood Evan usually gave me. It was fresh. Sweet. Coppery. And it reminded me of home. My mother. My shackles rattled loudly as I sat up and searched the cell for the source.

"Please don't eat me!"

A tiny voice whimpered from somewhere nearby.

I looked toward it and saw a badly beaten little boy crouching in a corner.

When did he get here? What was he doing in my cell?

"Don't eat me, please!"

He pleaded again in a shaky voice.

Eat you? Why would I want to eat him?

I couldn't even reach him if I wanted to. The shackles around my waist and neck were only long enough to reach the bucket they provided as my toilet. But he didn't know that.

His tear-stained eyes continued to watch me fearfully.

"I won't..."

My voice sounded terrible and I stopped talking to clear my throat. Apart from groaning in pain, I couldn't remember the last time I'd spoken aloud. Whenever they came to extract my venom, they shot me with their dart guns to make me docile. Evan and his men did all the talking. I simply stared at them like a zombie.

Although I didn't finish my sentence, the little he heard was enough to make his eyes widen.

"Re-really? You won't eat me?" He sounded hopeful.

I sighed.

"Yes. I can only drink your blood. I can't eat your flesh. I'm not a wild animal."

"Oh."

He sat up straighter and wiped the blood trickling from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Both." I looked at him.

"Good for me. Bad for you."

He looked confused.

"H-how?"

"I'm always hungry, and you don't look like you can satisfy me. You're too skinny. You might die in the process." I paused. "But I won't..."

"You won't!" He grabbed onto those words immediately. "Yes! You said that before, so..."

"Not because I don't want to, little fool!" I interrupted him and stood up as much as my weakened body allowed, deliberately showing him the shackles around my neck and waist.

"I can't reach you, and I'm too weak to do anything about it. So you're safe for now."

"For now!" He repeated the words.

I knew he'd finally understood when he scooted farther away from me.

Good. Get far away from me because I won't be held responsible for what happens if my hunger gets the better of me.

I turned away from him and looked toward the place where they normally left my cup of blood.

Nothing.

That was when it occurred to me that Evan hadn't simply wanted me to kill the boy. He wanted me to work for it.

Sick bastard.

I sensed the boy watching me as I returned to my bed and weakly sat down.

"What's your name?" I asked.

It had been a long time since I'd had a conversation with a real person. If I couldn't drink his blood, I might as well enjoy the company.

"Omega."

Omega?

So he's a servant. No wonder he'd been beaten and thrown into a cell with me.

"What is your real name?" I asked.

"That is my real name. Omega." He said it so seriously that I stared at him.

My eyes widened.

His real name? Who gives their child such a demeaning name?

Shit.

Why am I even surprised by that with the kind of parents I have?

"They said you're a monster." His voice pulled me from my thoughts. "You don't look like a monster to me."

This fool.

How could he still say I didn't look like a monster when I'd just told him the only thing stopping me from draining his blood was the shackles around my body? He was obviously too innocent to understand that real monsters didn't have to look bizarre or deformed. Real monsters were people. They were family. Your mother. Your father. The people closest to you.

"How old are you?" I asked

"Five."

Five. No wonder. His answer brought back memories of when I had been five and stupid enough to believe my mother would come back for me. Those were the days when I still thought I could escape Evan.

"How old are you?" His question pulled me out of my thoughts again.

How old am I now?

I wasn't sure anymore. I had been five when they brought me to Evan. After my failed escape attempt, they'd moved me from the dark, rat-infested cell into this one. From pitch darkness and a boulder for a bed, I had been given a light bulb that never went off and a thin mattress with a lice-ridden blanket.

Being kept in a windowless dungeon with no sense of day or night had made me lose track of time. I knew I'd been there for a very long time. I knew I was no longer the innocent five-year-old boy I'd once been. I just didn't know how much I'd grown.

"Okay, lad. Do you know today's date and what year it is?" I hoped he could help.

"Hm-mm." He nodded. "It’s the year two thousand and four. Today is Friday, the sixth of August."

I nodded, impressed by his sharp mind.

I remembered being taken away from my mother three days before my fifth birthday. I did a quick mental calculation. I'd turned eight three days ago. Strange.

"I'm eight years old." I told him.

He smiled.

He was bleeding everywhere from the beating he'd received. I'd just told him I would have killed him if I weren't shackled. Yet somehow, he was still smiling. How?

"What is your name?"

He asked as my eyes followed the solitary trail of blood trickling from beneath his hair and down his cheek.

Our eyes met.

He smiled even wider.

"Hey! Your eyes suddenly turned red! Are you an Alpha?"

He sounded fascinated. Completely clueless about how desperately I wanted to sink my fangs into his neck.

"Will you be my big brother?" He smiled. "I've always wanted one. We'll be family and..."

What?

No, idiot! I don't want to be your big brother. We will never be family. What I want is to drink your fresh blood.

Of course, he continued talking, staring at me with fascination.

"Wow! Two of your front teeth suddenly grew longer and pointy. How did you do that?"

God.

Is there no end to his foolishness?

A sudden knock on the door snaps me back to the present.

"Who?... Who is it?"

I look toward the door. It opens and the very subject of my thoughts walks back into the room.

I sigh.

"Go away, Ryder. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"I know."

He hurries into the room. "Just... this is urgent." He looks worried.

I immediately know something is wrong.

"I just got a call from the security post." He pauses. "A woman who claims to be your great-aunt is at the gate, waiting to see you."

My eyebrows rise.

"She smells like a vampire," he adds.