Milo (ManXBoy, Werewolf)(Book 3) COMPLETED

Chapter 5

**WARNING**

**A/N: This chapter may be unsuitable for some. This chapter may be triggering. This chapter contains abuse, rape, strong/dirty language!**

**The picture is Andrew Stetson who I imagine plays Blaiz! **

From the very first day we were told that we were orphans Zachary has looked at me with a heated glare. He would always give me glares and would tell me it was all my fault. He would tell me the crash was my fault. How the Hunters got our parents because of me. How if I wasn't born they would still be alive.

I still don't understand how their deaths were my fault.

I was only eight at the time of their deaths, I had just turned eight a month prior. Zachary was already eleven by two months. He was three years older than me so I looked up to him for everything, I listened to him, and I loved him unconditionally with a childlike innocence. I didn't know then what kind of monster was hiding just beneath the surface of Zachary.

The first day we were told about our parent's deaths he hit me. He grabbed my arm tight enough to make it bruise, but I healed quickly at that age since I was not yet damaged. I remember he had balled his hand into a fist and swung at me. Right in the face. I cried as he let me slump to the ground and he told me not to tell anyone or he would do it again. I didn't want that kind of pain again so when people asked me what happened I told them I had tripped.

Zachary spouted off how their deaths were my fault. He started insulting me, saying things like "Now there is no one to love you," "You're so pathetic!" "You're such a baby for crying!" "It's a good thing they died, because you are a disgrace, they probably wanted to die just to get away from you!". I believed everything he ever said. I started to believe that I was the cause of mama and daddy to die. I was the cause of everything because I was an unloved child.

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When I was nine years old is when Zachary really started to hurt me. He started to get more physical and verbal. He would come to my bedroom and beat me up until I was left bleeding and crying like the broken child I was.

He would drag me out of bed and strip me down until I was left naked just so he could have a better shot at me. So he could watch the damage he was doing to my fragile body. I was born an Omega-- I always knew I would never be as strong as the other kids-- so Zachary had an advantage. I healed slower than the average wolf, but I healed quicker than a human.

Zachary seemed to enjoy and take pride in my pale body turning black and blue. He seemed to love the blood dripping down my face and arms. He never tired of hitting and kicking me until early in the morning.

But before he would leave he always made sure to threaten me. He always made sure that he had a readymade excuse for me to tell as to why I couldn't move as quickly as normal, or why I had a limp. And he never forgot to threaten a worse punishment if I told anyone.

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When I was eleven years old Zachary dragged me into a boy's restroom at school. He pushed me up against the wall and held both my hands in one of his above my head. Then he proceeded to punch me anywhere and everywhere he could manage. I gasped and cried for help as his friends stood by watching. Five other boys were in that restroom, watching my big brother beat me up.

Then Zachary let them have a go at me after he had his fill. He held my shaken and beaten body up as all five boys took turns, sometimes they would all join in together, just to hit and kick me. I remember I cried and screamed so much that Zachary shoved a dirty sock in my mouth to gag me. When I tried to spit it out he punched me so hard that it knocked me out.