Ayden’s Blog Post
There’s only so many things that I can tell you about my life before you start to disbelieve me. So many traumas that I could lay out for you like dominos. If they had fallen a different way, I would have as many bodies to my name as the rest of my pack. Instead, I’m going to fill you in on a few of the key things that happened during my development. This may be a long post, but please bear with me, as I have a unique perspective.
First, let me say that my family has a predisposition to several of the more severe mental illnesses that tend to be precursors to violent behavior. My birth mother was the prime example. She chose violence at every chance she could—especially later in her life. Admittedly, I didn’t spend much time with the woman when I was a child. She was a beta that wanted children for all the wrong reasons. That woman didn’t have a motherly bone in her body. After my birth I was raised by my omega grandmother and her pack until her other daughter adopted me. My mom—well the woman who raised me—was abusive. Once she realized that I couldn’t hide my attraction to men, she turned to beatings. She would force me to strip naked and have her men beat me with a three and a half foot long rowing oar. Needless to say, I had a pretty shitty childhood.
Because of that, I didn’t present as an alpha until I was twenty-one. My birth mother came back into my life a few years later. She was on military disability after she showed signs of PTSD. What no one else saw was how she acted behind closed doors. She loved to belittle people, pushing them until they pushed back. When they did, she knew just how to play the victim. So, I ended up another puppet on her string in my mid-twenties, doing my best to keep her from killing someone. And she wasn’t shy about that in any way. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t threaten to stab me. My grandmother’s death and her pack disbursing was what saved me from her. I decided not long after that I was done being a victim. Moving in with my uncle and his pack, they were all the family I needed.
I had this recurring fantasy that started as a child that I couldn’t quite shake. An idea of being knot deep in someone while I wrapped my hands around their throats and squeezed the life out of them. Stalking the bad parts of town wasn’t difficult. The parts where sex workers strolled the streets. I never could bring myself to pick one of them up. Could never bring myself to hurt a woman. That was a hard line for me—one I refused to cross. I did come close at one point, stalking the beta I wanted and nearly catching him. He managed to slip away from me onto a city bus.
That was when I met Cain, he noticed me stalking the beta and spoke to me. His lack of fear was intriguing. I couldn’t get rid of him after we spent that night together. Not that I had tried. Love came quickly after that. Yes, I can feel love.
I wish I could say that meeting Cain was the switch that flipped making me not a killer. Or maybe even Calliope. God knows it wasn’t Dax. He fought me tooth and nail every step of the way. No, I saw what was happening to my birth mother, and I made a conscious choice to not be like her. That’s all I have for now.