Twin Alphas

Chapter 10

Jeremy's POV

I don't believe it. Werewolves don't scar; at least, not that badly, maybe one or two scars no longer than one inch, but Bayne... her entire back was covered with scars, one running from her shoulder to her hip. What happened to her? She won't open up to anyone, and the only other person who knows what happened is Aaron, and he won't say anything either.

"What the hell happened to her?" I asked Aaron not realizing how much of my alpha tone I was putting into my voice.

"It's not my place to tell you, and frankly, I'm more afraid of Bayne than I am of you." he said with a small smile.

"Well at least tell me who is responsible." I compromised

"Who else, the man she's trying to kill, Sercko."

"The guy she would have killed had I not interfered..." I said as clarity hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Yes, Sercko was the one who planned the attack on your pack, He was the one Bayne was chasing when you knocked her over, He was the man Bayne had in between her jaws when you tried to pull her off him, and He is the man who got away." Well shit, not only is the man who gave Bayne all those scars on her back still out there, but I helped him get away.

"Oh man." I said as I rubbed my forehead.

"Don't worry... she won't hold it against you. She's too busy with making sure he dies to notice you helped him get away." Aaron reassured me, and although his words were meant to comfort me, it didn't help me with the guilt.

"I'll do anything to make sure she gets her second chance. I want the hunters gone as much as she does." I told him with determination.

"No you don't," I looked at him in confusion "She has dedicated her life to making sure Sercko and his men die, she lives, eats, sleeps revenge." Aaron clarified. "She wants nothing more than to taste His blood and see him begging for death. I'm sure if she had the option she would do everything he did to her, and then some."

"She needs to see a therapist, or be admitted into a mental hospital." Burt said in a sarcastic manner.

"Yah because having a girl shift into a wolf in a padded room talking about a hunter who had her in captivity for five hundred years with humans watching her would be a great idea." Aaron suggested while glaring at Burt. "I've been trying to keep her as sane as possible, I've seen some of the things they did to her and I don't blame her for not wanting to tell you anything. The stories would give you nightmares."

"What about you? Do they keep you up at night?" Burt asked

"They used to. And they've kept Bayne from sleeping entirely for weeks." Aaron told him, his wolf was getting closer and closer to the surface.

"So if it doesn't give you nightmares, why would we get them?" Burt asked.

"Burt, stop talking." I said.

"She lived it, she was trained to push all her feelings away and do as ordered. I had one hundred years to deal with it, to find new ways to keep my mind off it at night. You really think that anything that leaves a scar on a werewolf is mild or easy to take?" Aaron asked his eyes completely black now. He pulled down his shirt collar so we could see his right shoulder, after looking at it closely I saw a small barely visible white scar. "This," he said pointing at the scar that was no bigger than an inch and a half, "This is from a silver dagger laced with wolvesbayne. The night they gave it to me I 'let' my training partner hit me in the jaw. Knocked him out after that, but my punishment was a weeks' worth of beatings with no food and little water. The first day they ripped my shoulder out of the socket and plunged the dagger into my flesh. Every day after that they took the dagger out, dipped it in wolvesbayne and re-injected it into the same wound. The final day they put my shoulder back in the socket, without removing the blade. And when they did remove the dagger they poured wolvesbayne into the wound and sewed it up." He finished without emotion. "I couldn't feel my arm for another week after that. I was lucky, this is the only scar I got from them, and my story doesn't compare to any of hers." He let go of his collar as he clenched and unclenched his fists.