“It seems so impossible,” I say.
“For a human, yes. You're handling it well. For us, it’s the most natural thing in the world to share you. I love my brothers more than anything in this world. Seeing you with Lawson was heartwarming. I felt no jealousy, only pride and gratefulness. You can love him as he needs. It was beautiful to see how much you already trust him. The mating bond is working. You're a human, yet you can feel the pull.” He smiles gently. “I want you to give in to it. Let it guide you, and trust how you feel.”
“Trust,” I mumble. It seems to be the theme of our time together.
“Every relationship, a good relationship needs it. Don’t doubt, just fall. You will have four sets of arms to catch you,” he whispers, and I want to cry.
“I don’t remember a time I had someone besides Rylee who would.” I rub my throat, and his eyes flicker to my hand. “I want that. I want all of you.”
“Good. We want nothing but you,” he says roughly.
“I would never guess that you haven’t been together your whole lives,” I mumble, and he shifts.
“I wish that were the case,” he grits out, looking away. “I thought I was the lucky one. My aunt Vivian adopted me. I’d never seen her before, but I could smell the relation to my mother. I remember not wanting to leave my brothers. She refused to take all of us, and my young mind thought it was wrong, yet my heart was broken, and I thought she could fill it back up.” He laughs, but it’s filled with bitterness. “I was very wrong. She took me to a big house, bought me new clothes, and gave me a bedroom. It was all for show. She was obsessed with appearances, and adopting a long-lost relative's son made her appear as a kind soul.” He looks at me. “They didn’t see whathappened behind closed doors. They didn’t see all the times she slapped me or lectured me.”
“Remy,” I whisper, my heart breaking for the little boy.
“I appear always in control, but I was trained to act like everything is perfect. She demanded it, and I learned never to disappoint her.”
“Or what?” I ask.
“Or I would be locked in the basement until I learned the error of my ways,” he growls.
I inhale sharply.
Chapter Fifteen
Remy
The pain and rage burn in my stomach. I close my eyes and let my body relax. When I open them, I look away from Haven’s ravished face. Every day I push my emotions from my childhood deep down inside, but I know I have to let our mate see them. I have to believe she will help me fight them instead of running away.
“Vivian wanted a doll. She liked my black hair and pleasant face. Those were her words, which she told me repeatedly for years. Her human boyfriend cheated on her. It was very public, and to make up for that, she invited me into her home. She was sick of the whispers from those in her circle of friends and the pity. Instead, the whispers were replaced with praise. They came to the house in droves, complimenting her charity. I was paraded in front of them, dressed in the suit she picked out.They patted me on my styled hair and told me how lucky I was. Vivian’s family was wealthy, and they commended her for spending it on a poor child.” I turn to face the window and slip my hands in my pockets. “Once a week, she invited her friends over for a meal. I would have to sit at the table, quiet, and demure. They all turned against her ex and celebrated her. She ate it up. The attention. The hero status. They joked that I was the little man of the house.”
“Jesus, Remy.” Haven presses her palm to my back.
“I didn’t feel like a man. I was lost without my brothers. I was grieving my parents, and didn’t understand why I had to be there. The first few years are a blur. I was going through the motions, unwilling or unable to anger her. I remember crying many times, missing brothers I barely remembered. Vivian hated it. That was the first time she hit me. Showing emotion was not allowed. I never cried in front of her again. As I grew, I realized how wrong the situation was. Children are supposed to trust adults, and I tried. I wanted to please her because I didn’t think I had another place to go. When we were in public, she would touch my shoulder affectionately, and I couldn’t react. That was the only time she touched me gently.
“I hated it, yet craved it. She made me depend on her for any scrap of positive attention. The first time I asked about my brothers, she locked me in the basement. I was eight. It was dark and smelled of mold. The house was massive, but it was in the section that wasn’t used. I huddled in the dark, waiting for her to let me out. The more I begged, cried, or screamed, the longer I would have to be there. The only way she would respond was if I said I was sorry, and it had to be calmly. I had to tell her I loved her and that I promised to be good. It would only work after an appropriate amount of time.” I clench my hands, bunching the fabric of my pockets.
“How long?” she asks.
“Twenty-four hours,” I hiss. “It took time to figure out the pattern. When I turned twelve, I decided to stop fighting. I couldn’t go on living in fear, wondering when she would snap. I gave in. My brothers were lost to me, so I never mentioned them again. I let her friends gush over what a good boy I was, and pat me on the head. I let her take credit for my excellent behavior. I was tired, and I hated the dark. I didn’t want to go back to the basement. Vivian was the only person I had, so I gave up. I no longer refused when she asked me to kiss her on the cheek and tell her I loved her before bed. The suits I wore weren’t uncomfortable anymore, and I wore them without protest. I was polite and never spoke without her permission.” I tilt my head and meet her gaze. “She was proud. I saw it, and I soaked it up. It was the first time I could remember doing something that made her proud. I liked the feeling.”
“Of course you did. You were a child,” Haven says.
“I knew it was wrong. As much as I knew I needed to fall in line, the kernel of truth always remained. She was not my mother. Everything she did was for status, and I was a tool she used to reach the level she wanted. But as the years passed, the little voice in my head telling me that faded further and further away. I became a robot. I couldn’t remember my mother's face, only that her hair was soft when I tangled my fingers in it. My family became unreal, and I turned into the stoic little boy she wanted.” I roll my shoulders. “I went to a private school, and it was hard for me to make friends. She was friends with the headmaster. He gave her daily reports of my behavior. I was the boy on the outside of the group. They didn’t try to break through my cold exterior, and I was grateful. I observed the relationships of the other children with their parents. I couldn’t understand how they could show love. Kids were happy to see their moms. Vivian was frigid. I watched her constantly, comparing. Shealways sat straight, her face tight. The only time she smiled was in front of people she wanted to impress.”
“Did no one notice your pain?” she asks.
“Perhaps,” I sigh, relaxing my hands. “I did not allow anyone to approach me.”
“You must have been lonely.” She steps close and lays her cheek on my arm.
“Yes, but there was no way to escape it. She had twisted all my thoughts, so I didn’t know what I should think. I was fed, clothed, educated, and sheltered. Should I want more? Vivian set up an account for my college. She made a point of taking me with her to the bank. Of course, she had friends there. The news spread through her community. She was again applauded for her generosity. She thrived on every scrap of their praise, her vanity appeased.” I sigh and slide my arm around her. “As the days and years passed, I went through the motions. I didn’t break any rules, so I didn’t go into the basement. Whenever the attention Vivian craved waned, she would find a reason to be put in the limelight again.
“I had just turned fourteen and was walking home from school, which was odd because she always sent a car. As I rounded a corner, a man attacked me. He was big and quick. I had no time to fight back. He left me on the sidewalk, bleeding and broken. I don’t know how long I lay there in pain. Vivian showed up with a group of friends. She called them frantic because I didn’t come home from school. She told them when the car got there to pick me up, I wasn’t there. Her face was pinched with worry, and she fell on top of me, giant sobs ringing out. It was all a game to her, and I know she asked that man to hurt me.”
“Fuck, Remy. How could she?” Haven presses closer.
