Claimed by the Primals

Chapter Thirty-Four

How do I describe the sound I made when I was taking my emotions out on a punching bag? I wouldn't go so far to say that I was screaming or shrieking, but it was more than just the regular grunts of effort. I also wouldn't necessarily call it blood curdling, though Kade and Warrick both looked quite uncomfortable while all their brothers ranged from mildly amused to supportive as I beat the snot out of that thing.

We've spent enough time together now going through this story, so you've gotten a good idea of who I am. You know I could spend a lot more time telling you about my childhood and the psychological obstacle course Godric put me through. But that... what he did that day was probably the worst he'd ever done.

I was so scared that Kade and Warrick almost had to lift me out of the chair when I still hadn't gotten up ten minutes after he left. Getting back to the room felt like there were anvils strapped to my feet. I barely managed to get to the bathroom before breaking down.

Crying, vomiting, shaking, and when the fear and grief faded... Well, let's just say that my Jimmies were rustled. One might go so far to say that my panties were in a twist. I was pissed. Furious. Angry enough that it took no effort from anyone to convince me to go to the training grounds for some violent therapy.

How dare he say those things to me! After everything he put me through, how dare he talk about my mother that way! What the fuck did he mean, I have and idealistic view of my mom?! She was my mom! She was the only person who ever cared!

But I would be lying if I was angry only at Godric.

All my life, all I had ever wanted was his approval and praise. All I ever wanted was to be acknowledged as a member of his family. I am deeply, deeply ashamed and embarrassed and pissed at myself to admit that there was a brief moment where I considered leaving Kade and Warrick behind and running after my father. I wanted to believe that he was telling the truth. That he had punished Lana and Eckhart, and that I wouldn't have to accept Matthias and Anthony's claim. I wanted to believe he would be the father I always wanted and needed him to be.

I knew better. I knew that I knew better, but... fuck. The rollercoaster of emotions I went through when Godric walked away was intense. Guilt, fear, shame... Once again, I was questioning if I could do it. If I could lead the negotiations and face him on the metaphorical and literal battlefield.

I have to say, thank fuck Violet was there. Ravi and Esraa were giving off worried-for-my-mental-stability vibes, but not Violet. She wasn't just cheering me on, she was right there beside me or holding the bag and giving me minor corrections to hit harder while using less energy. I once described her as my spirit animal, and a woman I look up to... this is why.

Violet, more than anyone else I have ever or will ever meet, understands. She was born into the servitude of men just like Godric. Men who disrupted the typical matriarchal order of primals and focused on breeding for a particular outcome. Her claiming rights had been sold when she was eleven, before she had even presented, because there was a chance that she would present as a tiger shifter. She was seen as an exotic status symbol and was expected to be happy and grateful that she was sold to a high-ranking set instead of being thrown back in the breeding pit.

To be clear, I do not like that someone else knows what I'm dealing with. I do not like that someone else has been through what I have and so much worse. But it is comforting. Misery's company, in a way. Except that instead of wallowing in the trauma, we punched the ever-living fuck out of a bag full of fabric and foam.

"Bene," she nodded after another hit that left the bag swinging and my whole body shaking from exertion. "Remember how it feels in your arm and in the swing. Striking live flesh is different than an inanimate object, so do not think about how it should feel when you land a hit."