Chapter 220: Records I
"Records?" I asked, leaning behind Damon to whisper to Blaise.
Blaise only gave me a confused look in reply. "I’ve never seen it used before," he confessed softly.
I guessed no one had invoked such a function in previous conferences. There was a thoughtful hum that echoed throughout the room; our eyes were drawn towards the oracles, who appeared with more bowls of moonwater.
Their eyes were unseeing as they simply took their turns to pour more of the moonwater into the bowl. Magically, the bowl somehow never seemed to overflow. Once again, the surface smoothed over to reveal a series of damning memories― Damon, with his broad shoulders and strong back, casting a long shadow that threatened to swallow Darach whole.
He was surrounded by other werewolves his age, but it was Damon who led the violence, kicking Darach who had curled himself up into a ball to protect himself from the blows.
’Stop it! You’re hurting me!’ Darach screamed out in pain.
My mouth fell open; Darach’s cheeks were plump and full, making him look like a cherub. He was so young back then, that his voice had not yet broken. His glasses laid askew on his face, jostled by the blows.
’Shut the fuck up,’ Damon snarled, venomous, as he stomped directly on Darach’s wrist. Damon’s voice was also high due to youth, but there was only malice in the absence of fear. A sharp crack rang through the air, and Darach let out a breathless wheeze.
I gulped as my eyes caught sight of Darach’s wrist lying limp on the floor.
’Get out of my pack!’
’I don’t want to be here either! Just leave me alone!’ Darach cried out, glaring back at Damon with defiant eyes, only to take a boot to the face.
There was another sickening crunch as the plastic from his glasses broke, along with the cartilage of his nose. Jeers from the other boys filled the air, and they cheered as Damon continued to rain blows on Darach.
I winced, feeling a phantom ache in my limbs as I watched the abuse happen. This was awfully reminiscent of what Aubrey did to me.
On Damon’s other side, Blaise also let out a hiss of pain. I guess he must have sympathized more with Darach since Blaise had also been beaten by humans when he was younger. The room was filled with horrified faces from those who had no idea of Damon’s past actions.
I had hoped that that would be all, but clearly, the oracles had more in mind. The scene earlier faded, but it was replaced by another.
This time, we were looking at Fangborne’s dining area. Damon sat at the head of the table. There were no adults in the room, only his posse of boys. I wondered how many of them were still in his pack, fiercely devoted to him.
And at the other end, was Darach with a plate of food in his trembling hands.
’Here’s your food, Damon,’ Darach said.
Damon easily grabbed and tossed the plate of food on the floor, causing the plate to shatter upon impact. Darach and I flinched at the loud sound.
’What’s that for!’ Darach protested weakly.
Damon went back to his seat and pointed an imperious finger at the floor, where Darach’s food lay, spilled all over.
’You didn’t come back quickly enough. I don’t want it anymore,’ Damon ordered, sounding almost bored. ’Pick it up.’
’The kitchens had a delay! It wasn’t my fault!’ Darach protested weakly. ’I shouldn’t have to clean it up!’
Darach had retorted bravely, but only a deaf person wouldn’t be able to hear the frightened quaver in his voice, along with the way his body trembled. This must have been sometime after the first vision, for Darach’s plump cheeks have become gaunt. There was a haunted look in his eyes now.
’You dare to talk back to Damon? You have some nerve!’ One of the other boys exclaimed. The rest of them laughed mockingly.
’Pick it up,’ Damon repeated, staring at Darach coldly.
’What if I don’t?’ Darach asked.
Damon crooked his fingers, and two of the boys stepped forward to grab Darach’s shoulders, slamming him down on the floor, and scraping his knees against the broken shards of the plate. Darach let out a weak cry of pain, and the rest of them laughed even louder.
Damon was silent, but there was a mocking look in his eyes as he stared at Darach. Then he got up and punched Darach straight in the face. I flinched; based on my own personal experience with Damon’s fist, it would hurt like a bitch.
I thought that would be all, but then Damon grabbed Darach and slammed his face straight into the ruined food.
’Eat up, you’re too skinny,’ Damon said, his voice a parody of concern. ’Come on, eat it. You shouldn’t waste Jeeves’s efforts when he has treated you so well so far.’
Darach’s eyes welled with tears, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. That didn’t sit well with Damon or the other boys, who forcefully pried his mouth open with their fingers. Darach tried to bite down, but it didn’t stop them― instead, his tiny resistance seemed to amuse them, encouraging them to taunt him further.
’Lick it. If not, we’ll make you eat shit next time,’ Damon threatened, his eyes glinting maliciously as the others hooted and hollered.
I shuddered, wondering how my fated mate could do something so cruel as a teen, to another teen.
Darach probably realized that Damon was deadly serious about it, for he reluctantly opened his mouth and began to eat the ruined food from the floor
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see more. This was beyond cruel. Damon didn’t simply beat up Darach, he actively worked to humiliate him.
I let out a breath, feeling exhausted from all that I just saw. Hearing what happened from Darach and Damon was different from seeing it happen with my own two eyes.
"That’s enough," I said in a whisper. To my surprise, my voice echoed throughout the room, drawing everyone’s eyes to me.
