Zayn’s torso was a roadmap of scars. Jagged lines crisscrossed his skin, some were old and fading but others were still pink. Burn marks dotted his ribs. A particularly brutal scar ran from his collarbone to his hip, thick and ropey.
Lily’s eyes widened. Her fingers hovered over his chest, not quite touching. She’d seen glimpses before, but never . Never the full extent of what he’d endured.
“Every scar tells a story,” Zayn said quietly. “Like yours.”
He pointed to a circular burn mark near his shoulder. “Your father liked his cigars. This one was for trying to escape the first month. He mixed in silver leaves to ensure they left marks on my skin.”
Lily’s face crumpled. She knew her father’s cruelty firsthand, but seeing it etched into another’s flesh made her stomach turn.
Zayn traced a long, thin line across his abdomen. “Xavier’s favorite silver knife. He used to make small cuts, just enough to bleed but not enough to heal quickly.”
Lily flinched at the mention of her brother, Zayn noticed it immediately.
“I used to think I could overcome anything. Physical scars were nothing,” he lamented, voice dropping lower, “But I forgot how it affects our hearts and minds.”
Lily nodded, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. She understood too well.
Zayn took a deep breath, “The day your father attacked my pack, was like any other day.”
Lily tensed but didn’t look away. This was something she had to hear.
“Irene...my mate, was pregnant with our child. The attack was brutal. I told her and some others to run for safety but they got caught,” Zayn’s voice was strained.
His eyes grew distant. He was reliving that day in his mind.
“I was fighting off the warriors with Ezra by my side. But there were just too many of them. We lost so many wolves that day... Then Xavier stabbed me from behind, forcing me to my knees. I struggled, cursing at them until they brought out Irene.”
Irene had tears in her eyes. She begged Xavier and Grayson to let Zayn go but her pleas fell on deaf ears. They taunted Zayn, promising to release Irene if he’d submitted to them.
“I refused his terms,” Zayn explained, knuckles white from the strength of his grip, “Grayson would never have held up his end of the bargain. Do you know what he did in return?”
“He hurt her,” Zayn said through clenched teeth.
He did his best, holding back his anger.
“Finally, I agreed. He laughed and said it was too late. He tied me to a post in the center of the background and used me as a punching bag. They drove silver daggers through my body, watching me scream in horror and agony. They made her watch too.”
Lily shakily placed a hand on Zayn’s, hoping it would provide him with some comfort.
He continued telling his story.
“Your father wanted to make an example out of us,” Zayn’s jaw tightened, “When he knew I couldn’t fight back anymore, he took it out on Irene. They... made me watch. Every cut, every scream. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do anything.”
Zayn rubbed his wrists. Lily noticed the old scars around his wrists. She used to think they were from the time he’d been chained during the full moon. But upon a closer look, she realized they were likely from the time he was recounting.
Lily gently tapped Zayn’s wrist to get his attention.
‘You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,’ She signed.
Zayn shook his head. “I want to tell you.”
Lily nodded; she understood.
Zayn let out a long sigh. “I begged for mercy. For Irene to be released and set free. I begged and pleaded. But he wasn’t done. He gave the order to cut my child from her body while she still breathed. She was looking straight at me, with tears in her eyes as our child was ripped from her.”
Lily felt her eyes water. She let the tears fall, mourning Zayn’s loss with him. She knew her father’s cruelty firsthand. He always knew how to break a person down to nothing.
“They fed their bodies to the hounds, made me watch every second of it.” His voice was flat, emotionless. “When that was done, they made me watch the remains be thrown into a mass grave, like they were nothing.”
Zayn turned to Lily slowly. He reached out to cup her cheek.
“We both have our scars, Lily. We both know what pain is like. I see that now. We’re the same,” he said softly.
Lily lifted her hand and placed it on his. Her touch was gentle, understanding. The quiet moment brought warmth to their cold hearts.
Lily glanced down, stunned as she noticed the blood. She carefully lifted her hand to take a closer look. Her palm was still bleeding from the dagger, and so was his. Lily scrambled to her feet and began looking around frantically.
“What are you doing?” Zayn asked in confusion.
Lily didn’t hear him. She pushed herself up, but dizziness caused her to stumble. She pulled open drawers while swaying.
“Lily, stop,” Zayn warned. “You’re hurt too.”
She continued searching despite his words. While opening the third drawer, she found what she was looking for. A small bottle of healing ointment, cotton balls, and a roll of clean bandages.
As she reached for them, a sharp pain shot through her hand. She winced, dropping the bottle to the floor with a clatter.
She stumbled back, throwing her off balance. She fell backward, landing directly in Zayn’s lap. Lily’s face flushed beet red, heart pounding in her chest. She immediately scrambled away, but Zayn wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her in place.
“I told you not to move,” he sighed, but there was no anger in his voice. “Show me your hand.”
Lily reluctantly extended her bleeding palm. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was long, running across her palm and onto two fingers.
Zayn reached for the fallen supplies, his movements careful as he kept her balanced against him. The warmth of his chest against her back was distracting.
“This will sting,” he warned before applying the ointment.
Lily bit her lip, refusing to show pain. Zayn worked quickly, cleaning the wound before wrapping it with practiced efficiency. His touch was surprisingly gentle.
When he finished, Lily turned in his lap, reaching for his injured hand while pointing towards the leftover supplies.
“I’m fine,” Zayn said, showing her his palm. The cut was already healing, the edges knitting together at supernatural speed.
Still, she tugged at his hand insistently. The least she could do was help him clean the wound. Zayn relented. There was something soothing about watching her delicate fingers at work, dabbing away his dried blood with careful attention.
As the silence wore on, Zayn decided to ask her as she worked, “What did you see just now?”
Lily stopped. She looked up at Zayn, unblinking.
She pursed her lips. After a brief pause, she signed slowly.
‘I saw Xavier laughing at me. Taunting me.’
‘He told me to kill myself.’
Her unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Zayn reached out his hand. He gently tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.
Lily’s breath caught in her throat. At that moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off Zayn.
“You’ll never have to worry about him ever again,” Zayn explained.
Lily furrowed her brows.
‘What do you mean?’ she signed, confusion clear on her face.
Zayn’s lips curved into a smile. “I’ll show you.”