Claimed by the Primals

Chapter Eleven

I haven't told you about my sister yet, have I? Yeah, that sounds about right.

Lana is six years older than I am and was the biggest source of pain and grief in my life. Might I remind you that my father sold me like a piece of furniture, so, that should tell you a lot about our relationship and how much we hated each other as kids.

It went way further than regular sibling rivalry. Your bother might have pulled your hair to get a reaction, or maybe your sister used to barge into your room uninvited. This wasn't it. I swear, Lana is a goddamn psychopath. She took tremendous pleasure in teasing me, tormenting me, and pushing me. She's a big reason I dye blue streaks into my hair, because she used to pull at the straight, dark strands and mock me for being boring compared to her naturally golden, wavy lengths

When she was fifteen, she flaunted her many boyfriends in front of me, mocking me for my lack of male attention. Never mind the fact that I was nine at the time and had no business wanting to get into any kind of romantic relationship. It really fucked up how I saw myself and my worth as a person.

Mom tried to punish her, but dad never backed her up on it. Lana and dad were two peas in a twisted pod, and all I could do is learn how to avoid getting kicked. I was ecstatic when she got engaged at seventeen. She was married shortly after turning eighteen, and I didn't even care that I wasn't invited to the wedding. A year after she moved to San Diego, and I only had to see her on rare occasions.

To the shock of absolutely no one at this point, it turns out that Lana is a primal. What I didn't find surprising either was that she had a massive harem of fifteen fucking men, all of whom were hand-picked by either her or her first mate. Why, you may ask, was I sold off whereas my sister got to live a life of sexual freedom and independence? Well, that's rather simple. My father loved her and hated me. Why was there such a disparity between us when female primals are so few and far between? Don't worry. We'll get there.

The night we arrived, nothing really happened. I was half dragged, half carried out of the truck and forced up the drive. Lana just watched with that twisted fucking smirk on her face without saying anything as one of her mates led the four of us to the guest house. The guest house was complete with its own kennel, not unlike the cellar I was in before, but significantly smaller and this time without any windows or even a blanket to put under my head.

I refused to sleep, twisting myself into one uncomfortable position after another to keep myself awake. Eckhart, Anthony, and Matthias had reasons to occasionally treat me gently. Lana had no such motivations, and I wasn't about to wake up with a stiletto at my throat. I must have dozed off a couple times, but it was never long, and it was never restful.

Eckhart came to me three times, so I assume I spent three days in that room. It was just him, which was almost scarier than if he'd brought the others. The first time, I dropped to my knees in front of him. I think it surprised him a little and he waited for me to break. When I didn't, he stepped up to stand beside me and rested a hand on the top of my head. I kept waiting for him to do something, but he didn't. We just stayed like that for a long time in silence until he decided he was done and left.

The next day, he did it again. Again, I was on my knees before he had the door open. This time he had a chair with him. He dropped the chair next to me with the back against the wall, sat, and opened a newspaper. Again, he rested a hand on my head, and we sat in silence. I burned with humiliation and wanted nothing more than to throw that damn chair at him. I didn't. I stayed still and quiet.

After a while, he left. He came back not long after with a small bowl of plain oatmeal. Meal of champions. I ate every single bite while Eckhart sat reading a book. After that, he pulled my head down on his knee and, once again we just sat in silence.