Wow. Nothing he said could have stunned Roni more.
“When we were in our old pack, she knew everyone thought my dad was abusing her, knew about the whispers and rumors, but she didn’t care. He tried to help her, but he couldn’t, because she didn’t want help—she still doesn’t. I think she does love me and my sisters, but she doesn’t seem to want us to love her. If I tried to hug her, she’d push me away. She needs to be a constant victim.”
The pain of that rejection was in his voice, and it made Roni’s wolf whine. Wanting to comfort him but not really sure what to do, Roni simply laid a supportive hand over his. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed gently.
“When she’d vanish for a few days, I was glad. I used to dread her coming home because I knew what state she’d be in: covered in whip marks, bruises, cuff marks, burns. I don’t know where she used to go—I know there are clubs that cater to that kind of thing. Or maybe she had an arrangement with someone who got off on beating the crap out of women.”
“It must have been hard.” She almost groaned at herself for the clichéd comment, but she didn’t know what to say. What did a person say to someone who grew up with that shit?
“Confining her to the house didn’t work because she’d resort to self-harm. I once found her in her bedroom with a plastic bag around her head.” He’d thought he was saving her when he freed her, but she’d been angry at him. It hadn’t been the last time something like that happened.
“Was it an attention-seeking thing?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t do any of it for attention—she just liked it, liked the pain, liked the humiliation, both physical and emotional. My dad tried everything to help her. He stood by her through it all. He never told anyone; he let everyone believe he was abusing her. My sisters and I were sworn to secrecy.”
“Did anyone find out?” Surely something like that couldn’t be kept totally buried.
“Trick knew. He was with me one day when I found her slicing her arms with her own claws. But he didn’t betray the secret. I wanted to tell people, but I knew my dad would have made us switch packs to protect her from their disgust—he always put her first. Other than my sisters, who were the ones who really took care of me, my friends were all I had.”
“Are you in contact with your parents?”
“No. I tried to have a relationship with them, but I can’t. What my mother does . . . it’s like an addiction. Whether my dad realizes it or not, he’s her enabler. He’s emotionally distant, which helps her since she recoils from affection. But he can’t give her the physical pain she needs. So he takes her to these clubs, lets someone beat the living shit out of her, and then he takes her home.”
What a total mind fuck. Following her wolf’s instinct, Roni rubbed her jaw against his shoulder. It seemed to soothe him, because he took a deep breath and then kissed her hair. She knew now why he hid behind a carefree mask. He didn’t want to care, because then he wouldn’t hurt anymore. Not only had his mother rejected him, but his father had rejected him too when Marcus’s strength became apparent. If someone was carefree and happy on their own, they didn’t need anyone else, they didn’t need love, and then they couldn’t be rejected, could they?
“Maybe it’s unfair, but I can’t go there to visit them, Roni. I can’t look at them and pretend I’m okay with it. I get that, in their own way, they’re both trapped. And I get that my dad thinks he’s making the best out of a bad situation. But I can’t be part of it. If that makes me a shit son . . . well, then, I’m a shit son. I just can’t be part of the lies anymore.”
She leaned into him, feeling helpless. “It doesn’t make you a bad son.”
“On my dad’s birthday last year, he asked us all to get together for a family meal. I didn’t want to go, but my sisters convinced me to give it a try. My mother was sitting there, black and fucking blue with rope burns around her neck and wrists, and we all had to pretend it was fine. I couldn’t do it. I walked out, and I haven’t seen either of them since. Teagan doesn’t visit them either, but she talks to Dad over the phone sometimes.”
Understanding now the source of all that anger trapped in ice, Roni felt like shit. He’d grown up watching his mother hurt herself over and over again, had been forced to let his father bear unwarranted shame, and she’d just made him talk about it. “Marcus, I’m really sorry I dredged this up. I really—”
He put a finger to her lips. “I would have told you at some point. It’s just not an easy thing to talk about. But now that you know, maybe you can understand what I’ve been saying to you. My mother doesn’t want love or affection, but she’s still needy and clingy in her own way. You worry that I want to control you. You don’t get that your independent streak is one of the things I like most about you. You’re not needy. You’re not weak. You’re not self-centered. You’re self-reliant, strong, protective, and good to those who matter to you.”
She gave a soft snort. “That’s quite a glossy picture you painted there. I have my flaws.”
“We all have our flaws, sweetheart. If we were perfect, we’d be boring and predictable. You are never boring.”
“The Seer said your mate would be like your mother, didn’t she?” Roni guessed. It would explain why he believed he couldn’t make his mate happy and vice versa.