Memory of me-

Chapter 1: Nina

*Flashback ahead*  

**TW: Violence, blood, torture, knives and sexual assault mentioned ahead**

***LONG FIRST CHAPTER AHEAD*** 

4 Years ago-

I roll on my side trying to stay off my sore back. My hip digs into the dusty concrete floor. I curl into myself trying not to strain my back more as I try and stay warm.

Silver was a bitch to most supernatural creatures but especially for werewolves and vampires. It burned our skin, causing it to pretty much melt away from our bodies. Silver wounds took twice as long to heal. Werewolf and vampire healing was amazing and usually instantaneous but was no match for silver.

The long cuts over my shoulder blades and down to the top of my hips sliced in every direction burned with every breath. My captor Steven loved torture. He especially loved to test his new silver knives and swords on me. His 'favorite pass time' he once told me with a sinister smile. He was always adding something new to his silver arsenal.

I lick my dry, cracked lips trying to imagine myself anywhere but here. This dark, dusty bedroom had been my normal for the last year... I think. Time was a crazy concept when I had no window or clock to tell me when it was day or night. I knew my name, my age and where I came from and that's all I had to myself. I don't remember the day I was taken, how I was taken. I just know that I was now Steven's and I would be for the foreseeable future.

The single hanging light bulb swayed from the ceiling as people walked above me. I watched it swing back and forth imagining it was the sun and I was laying on the porch swing attatched to my old home as my parents sing to me as they carried over my 14th birthday cake. I missed them. I missed my home, our pack house. I missed sitting on my bench seat in my room reading books as the sun whispered and tickled my skin in the morning through my bedroom windows. I missed home so much.

The footsteps above me change from soft and gentle to stomping. Coming closer. I steadied my breathing. I curled into myself more even as my back tightened and begged me to stop. I knew who was coming. I knew it was inevitable. He was not happy, and I was just the thing that was going to change that.

Steven busted through the door a few seconds later, the hinged crying out mocking how I would sound in a few minutes.

"Hey beautiful. Look what I got today." Steven calmly said to the empty room. I knew his calmness wasn't real. He was always calm before the storm. This falsehood wouldn't trick me again. It had in the past and it didn't change a thing. He hurt me, apologize, bring me food and have his pack doc bandage me up till next time. Rinse and repeat. And repeat and repeat.

I peaked up at him through my wild raven hair hanging over my face. He stood tall holding four pretty bejeweled silver daggers, two in each hand.

Fuck.

"Stand." he commanded

After a few beats of my weak heart thudding against my thin diaphragm he took a step forward. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the wall to steady myself. My naked body shook as his eyes danced over my body like a slimy caress. There was no hiding myself from him. The first time I did he broke my wrist. I wasn't going through that again.

I willed my arms to stay by my sides and looked down at his bare feet. I didn't want to look anywhere else, especially not at his eyes. They were empty and cold. And sometimes they were filled with so much rage and evil I knew they'd haunt me for the rest of my life.