When a young couple of having a difficult pregnancy and the only way to get the medicine the young mother needs is to make a deal with the alpha of a nearby werewolf pack, there aren’t many options. The alpha was understanding, offering to give them the medicine in exchange for the child’s umbilical cord. It was an easy deal for them, and the couple took it. Unfortunately, three months later, when their son was born, the excitement of it all lead them to forget their end of the deal. Their son had barely begun walking when the alpha came to them, demanding what he was promised. When they couldn’t give it to him, he killed the two of them without remorse and taking the boy back with him. He didn’t know the child’s name, nor did he care. He gave him a new one, naming the young boy Jameson and raising him as he would his own, at least until he was a capable young boy.
The alpha was always kind to him, never raising his voice, always using his manners with him. James was happy to serve him, fetching him this and putting away that. Living as a servant, it was idea. Unfortunately for him, the alpha wasn’t in the greatest of health and soon, leadership, as well as the young servant slave, was passed onto the man’s son. Jameson didn’t know what to expect, and he certainly wasn’t ready for the rough treatment he received from his new master. Cameron was verbally abusive and, soon, James was flinching away from just a small glance. He grew used to it, keeping his head down and staying quiet, doing as he was told quickly and as perfectly as he could manage.
His mistakes were met with flurries of swears and raised voices for years, up until his thirteenth year. He didn’t know what he did, if his mistake was worse or if he caught Cameron in a bad mood, but words turned into hands, leaving bruises all over his body and a bleeding gash on his forehead. James did everything he could to not make another mistake, but it was all for not. He didn’t need to slip up, Cameron had found a punching bag for getting out his anger and it was a young boy that would come at his every beck and call. Jameson thought that man hated him and often wondered to himself why he didn’t just kill him. What he didn’t know what how valuable he was alive. Jameson was a witch, even if his powers had not manifested themselves yet. Besides that, Cameron was always finding new ways to use him.
James had thought there was nothing more the man could do for him, he regretted ever having the thought when the abuse escalated, not only verbal and physical, but sexual as well. At first, he would cry and scream and fight back. Those nights left him sore, bruised, bleeding, and aching. He would have to get up the next morning with those aching muscles and bruised arms. Eventually, it became as routine as everything else. Fighting, as well as having a voice or any kind of freewill, was something he gave up on. Of course, it wouldn’t end there, and as he grew older, Cameron, as well as the mate he took, found more ways to degrade and abuse him. It seemed like a never ending nightmare.
He had no knowledge as to why it happened. All he knew was that Cameron was dead, killed by another. He didn’t know what this meant for him, but he assumed it meant he had a new master. He was fearful, even terrified of what this meant, of what this new master would do to him. He felt as if he couldn’t be broken any more than he already was, but he’d been wrong countless times before. Somehow, it was different. Twelve years of abuse had made him forget that kindness was something that could be shown to him. It had been ingrained into him that he was worthless, so to receive any kind of gentleness from anyone, nevermind a master, seemed impossible. His instincts tell him to be afraid, to cower away and lower his head, but his heart told him Clary could be different.
theartofmadeline
2087
gummygunk
pixelskylines
