The Lycan Kingpin's Captive: A Baby For The Beast novel Chapter 32

I don’t know what to make of what Nikolaos has just said; all I know is that my heart clenched so tightly that I nearly burst into tears.

“Let’s get you back into this dress so we can talk; your body is distracting,” he says as he picks up my discarded dress.

“Nikolaos-”

“When you’re dressed,” he urges and slips the dress over my head.

Another protest is about to slip past my lips when I see how tightly he has his jaw clenched… So I allow him to help me into the stupid garment before he takes my hand and leads me back into the bedroom.

He sits down on the bed and I go to sit next to him, but he pulls me onto his lap and kisses the side of my head. “I need you close to me while I tell you this; hopefully you won’t be disgusted with me afterward,” he says with a crack to his voice, and my heart breaks along with him.

I take his hand in mine and draw it to my lips to place a kiss, just like he’s done to me so many times before. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him without any fancy words or expressions.

Nodding, he breathes out a shaky breath and I see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows deeply.

“When my mother was pregnant with us, it was only because my father wanted a son. Masha, my sister, was a year older than us and my father deemed my mother’s pregnancy a failure. He wanted a son, not a daughter,” He starts.

“What a surprise it was to both of them when they found out she was not just pregnant with one son, but two. My father told her the Goddess blessed his bloodline with two boys for a reason…his true heir and a spare,” he says, scoffing. “Guess who turned out to be the spare?”

My fingers twist around his, mentally urging him to continue. He takes another shaky breath and I notice the sheen of sweat beading on his upper lip. This is difficult for him…but still he goes on.

“We were born and Bastien was immediately doted on. I wasn’t bothered by it, because I love my brother but he hated being the center of attention. When the time came for us to get our wolves, my father had me strung up by silver shackles and chains because I didn’t get a wolf…the beast within me is a Lycan - the Ioannides Curse.”

Oh, I knew it! When his claws extended, they were black not your average wolf color!

“How old were you when you got your beast?” I asked.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a sardonic smile. “I had just turned ten years old and things went downhill from there.”

I watch as he rubs the back of his neck and pulls painfully at his hair, his breathing comes in short spurts, and clenching his jaw so hard I’m scared his teeth might snap.

“Niko, we don’t need to-”

“No, I have to do this no matter how much…no matter how much it hurts. If I’m going to spend my life with you, you need to know every inch of me - no secrets, no hidden wounds.” He says, rubbing his palms along his jeans.

But how do I keep calm knowing he’s struggling to talk about this? Nikolaos is a powerful Alpha, so to see him reduced to this just breaks my heart.

“When my father eventually released me, he didn’t bother with me at all anymore; in fact, he acted as if I never existed,” Nikolaos continues. “He did the same to my mother and sister; after he got his heir, we were reduced to nothing in his eyes. That’s when… I started knowing who my mother really was.”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “Everyone assumes I got my cruelty from my father, and they would be correct since I am just like him, but no one knows that I learned from the best - my mother and her twin sister.”

I brace myself. “What…did they do to you?”

“It started with little forms of violent torture - whips, silver blades, needles run through my fingers. Then -” his breath hitches and his voice cracks. “Then they thought it would be fun watching…watching others…”

My world falls away and I see his lips moving, but I mentally shut it out. There’s no way someone would subject their own child to something like that, no way someone would -

“Watching others have their way with me,” his voice is choked up and I can do nothing but stare at him visibly shattering in front of my eyes. “If that wasn’t the worst thing about it, they taught me how…how to please-”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me with my heart thudding painfully against my ribcage. This can’t be right! There’s no way a mother would subject their own child to such cruelty and watch it unfold!

“For five years I was nothing but their playtoy as they sold me, making money off what they could subject me to - sexual violence or just plain violence,” his voice sounds as if he’s forcing himself not to cry. “If that wasn’t the worst thing, they used all the money they saved up from my abuse and disappeared. I haven’t seen them since I turned sixteen.”

I let go of him and narrowed my eyes. “On top of all that, they got away with what they did?!” I ask incredulously and he nods.

“Pretty much,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“And your father? What did he do? Surely he must have known?!”

Nikolaos shakes his head. “He didn’t because my mother had made him ‘send me’ to some boarding school when the truth is so much worse than that,” he says, exhaling a shaky breath. “The only ones who know about what I went through are Bastien and Maxim - the two people I trust with my life.”

Looking at him now, I can tell his chest is aching with the tears he’s refusing to shed. But I can also see relief in his eyes when he looks at me again. I cup his face with my hands and draw my forehead to his.

“I am so sorry you had to go through all that, no child deserves to have their trust ripped to shreds by the person who is supposed to protect them,” I say, echoing my own pain.

He shakes his head and chuckles sadly as he leans back and drags his t-shirt over his head. Then he positions me so I’m straddling him and he places his hands at my waist.

“Look closely at my chest; past all the tattoos,” he says, refusing to meet my gaze even as I peer up at him.

I breathe out a sigh and shift my focus to his tattooed chest, noticing again how every inch of his skin is covered. Marveling at the intricate designs, I’m about to shake my head when I see what he means.

The skin all over his chest isn’t smooth at all; in fact, it nearly matches my back.

“Oh, Nikolaos!” I exclaim as my hands fly to my mouth.

Healed scars, cut marks, burn marks - all covered with tattoos right up to his neck where I can see a raised ridge going right across his jugular. But they don’t stop there, these covered scars are all over his torso.