My Alpha Black

Chapter 11

~~~ Ali's POV ~~~

"Black, what do you mean exactly when you say you'll hurt me?"

He winced at my question and sighed. After a short silence he seemed to have decided something and nodded slightly, sad resignation on his handsome face.

"It all started when I was two years old," he began, "my father was the alpha of the pack and he ran it with my mother by his side. They were mates and were still as in love with each other as they were when they first met nine years before that. My mother was adored by the pack, she was such a devoted Luna and she had the respect and love of everyone making the pack stronger and more united," he paused as his eyes darkened, glaring a hole into the kitchen counter, "but all that changed the day my father hit her for the first time."

I gasped as my hand flew to my mouth. I was sure my eyes were wide. Inflicting pain on your mate intentionally was never heard of - even rogues were susceptible to the mate bond and the love and adoration that came with it. Just the thought of hurting your own mate made me shiver, it went against every instinct and it was just 'wrong' to abuse such a cherished connection.

Sure, at first I had been afraid of Black but I had always known deep down that he would never harm me. Having found my mate myself, the concept of being able to hurt them was awful and disturbing to me and I knew my naturally non violent, peaceful attitude was increasing the pain and repulsion I felt at what Black had told me.

"How could he?" I whispered.

Black just shook his head, "It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest," he said in a low voice though I could still here the bitterness in his tone, "for ten years he continued to beat my mother-" and at this point he practically choked on his own anger as his fists clenched and he began to shake signalling a shift.

Without thinking I just reached out and placed my palm between his shoulder blades, watching as a few seconds passed and the shaking stopped. Tracing tiny circles with the tip of my finger his muscles slowly began to loosen. He sighed in something close to relief and continued speaking though he kept his eyes shut tight.

"He had a real problem controlling his temper and he would just snap at the littlest thing, though he was always careful to keep the beatings hidden from the pack." he said in a dark, humourless voice. I kept stroking his back in little patterns but my heart was breaking. He spent his whole childhood watching his mother being beaten by the man he was supposed to look up to and feel safe with. My eyes swam with unshed tears as I looked down at my mate with such sorrow it was hard to breathe.

"When I was five he started hitting me instead."

And with those words I broke.

I started to sob with shock and pain, horrified at the thought of my five year old mate being struck by his dad. My eyes were wide and my hands were shaking uncontrollably - the cruelty of it was breaking my heart, my mate had suffered so much and then something dawned on me and I gasped out.

"The nightmares," and his head shot up in shock, "they're of your dad."

He was still clearly shocked but he nodded his head and at that I was crying even harder, imagining him being afraid to sleep because of the torment he would have to relive.

Though he had no tears or fear now as he was telling me. I thought it was even sadder that he seemed to have just accepted the abuse like it was a normal thing.

"Oh, God." I cried and as he finally met my eyes I saw that I was wrong, deep down I could still see the fear and pain of a helpless young boy that he couldn't quite suppress no matter how hard he was trying.