Insatiable

Chapter 13 - Samson

He ran both hands through his hair. He wouldn't look at me.

"Have you ever told anyone?" I asked my voice lower than a whisper.

"I never had to," he said looking ahead, "Kian...he knew, because none of his servants could keep their mouthes shut. Wes and Jay knew because their fathers took part in her death."

"Listen, you don't have to tell me if you're not ready-"

"It's not that I'm not ready to tell you, it's just that...this is a part of me I never wanted you to know."

"Alaric..."

"I have seven biological fathers," he started, "you know them as the kings of the world, I know them as the Kings of Darkness. There was a legend, that the world would be taken over by a boy who wouldn't be of this earth-a God. He would be the key to destruction, and would be called the God of Darkness. To keep balance, there also had to be an opposing force, the Goddess of Light. The God of Darkness is born from an innocent womb filled with sin, and maleficent emotions. My mother's name was Catalina Sceres. She was an angel from the Kingdom of Light. She was innocent. Completely innocent...and taken by her will. Only the Darkness can breed Darkness. So the Kings put their minds together and decided to destroy my mother. Break her, torture her, rape her, humiliate her-over and over and over again until she finally conceived. Then they...locked her in a metal cage underground. She starved. She begged for forgiveness and help. She didn't know what she did wrong. She gave birth to a boy, and when the kings found out, they were disappointed because he just looked like an angel. He didn't look like how the God was supposed to look. But that was the innocence of my mothers womb." He paused. "They beat her halfway to death because she failed. They executed my mother and blamed it on childbirth. She only got to hold me once."

Oh no...

"I've had dreams about exactly what happened to my mother for as long as I could remember. I grew to hate the kings. Each and every single one of them. I swore that anyone-anyone who had anything to do with my mother would die at my feet."

"Alaric, I am so sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head. "I never met her and I still don't understand why I feel such a strong emotion for her. I only know her from my dreams and every time I saw her I wanted to stop everything. I wanted to help."

"You loved your mother," I said softly.

His nose was red. Oh my God. Alaric.

I rushed over to him, wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his neck despite the pain that claimed my body.

"Don't cry," I begged, "please, don't cry."

He held on to me tightly. His body shook violently. My heart ached. Every ounce of my being reached out for him, hugged him, cried out for him. I could feel his tears soaking through my sweater. I'd never seen Alaric cry, and I was more than positive that I never wanted to see it again.

I don't know how long he cried. I had the strongest inclination that he had never wept over his mother before. All of that emotion, all of that hurt, that pain, that sorrow, pity-everything he felt for his mother was never released.

This is why he hates himself. This is why he can't accept himself. He thinks that it's all his fault. It's his fault the kings wanted to create the God of Darkness. It's his fault his mother was tormented. It's all his fault.

But it's not.

I stroked his hair gently and held back tears of my own. I felt pure hatred towards his enemies.

"It's not your fault, Alaric," I said softly, "please don't blame yourself."

Nothing I said was helping. I wasn't helping. I wanted to help. I wanted to make him feel better. I couldn't take it. I couldn't sit here and hold him and watch him fall apart. I could let him drown in self loathing.