Rise of the Underdogs: VALIK

Mama was crying again. Not the kind of crying that shed happy tears, but the kind that left me with a head full of murderous ideas. The kind that made me want to start digging a grave in the woods for a boy pretending to be a man. A boy who also happened to be my sire. I was five when I overheard him talking about his “worthless” ex-Mate and child. He laughed at the idea of their deaths, tossed in a few jokes about the boy, and described in sick detail how he beat and rejected his Mate. Said the “brat” was too much like his kind-hearted mother and deserved every hit. He didn’t know I was awake. Didn’t know I heard every word and kept them tucked away, trying to mask how scared I was of the man who gave me life. I was walking proof of everything cruel in him. Not that I was proud of it. I wasn’t. Mama, a human woman, did her best to be brave in the depths of our shared hell. Every day she stitched herself back together just enough to keep me from falling apart. Her strength wasn’t loud—it was quiet, stubborn, and always just enough. “Valik?” Her soft voice pulled me out of my head. We sat in that run-down cabin, surrounded by warped wood and cold drafts. The structure was barely standing. Rain slipped through the roof, wind crept between the boards, and every season left its mark in places no one bothered to patch. The floor groaned when you walked, and the walls held more secrets than insulation. I glanced at the math worksheet in front of me. I knew every answer but didn’t care. Grade seven could fall off the edge of the earth for all I cared. “Mama, what about the other boy?” “Other…? Oh. You mean your brother?” Her voice dropped into a hush, like even the walls weren’t safe. “I met her once. Mariana. Back when I went to tell Austin about you.” “What’s she like?” Mama shook her head slowly. “Nothing like what he says. She was upset, yeah, but she never blamed us. She understood that our babies weren’t the ones carrying his hurtful ways. Logan was born before you, and the moment she saw me, she knew. She saw the pain and begged me to keep you. She said, when he’s older, Logan would find a way.” Find a way? Cryptic. “What does that even mean?” I asked, finishing the last problem on my homework. Austin had made sure I was kept far away from Logan, not even letting us go to the same school. I didn’t know why. I just knew it was deliberate. Another layer of his sick control. “I think she meant he would help if he knew about you, Valik,” she said gently. Glancing at the cracked clock hanging by one bent nail, she sighed. “I better get dinner going before he shows up.” Yeah. Because if she didn’t, he’d let his buddies take their turn. Mama would be forced to smile for the monsters. Forced to “entertain” them through sobs and broken whispers, pleading for mercy Austin never gave. She tried to fight once. Only once. That was the day he showed me just how monstrous he could be. The day he held me by the neck, a sharpened knife pressed to my throat, threatening to end me if she didn’t service his friends. I was forced to watch everything. He chuckled the whole time, muttering just loud enough for me to hear. “This is what happens when I’m disobeyed, boy. You’ll be my legacy. Much better than that brat redhead.” In truth, I was disgusted. When it was over and he left with his crew, I puked so hard I cried. My body felt like it was rejecting everything—him, the violence, the air in that cabin. I dragged my mother to the wash basin, her legs barely holding her up. I cleaned her slowly, methodically, fixing her ripped clothes while she sobbed. Her shoulders shook like they couldn’t decide whether to collapse or stand tall. “I wish he’d just die,” I muttered as I wrapped gauze around one of her deeper cuts. Her tears ran in dirty streaks down her face. She was holding on, one breath at a time, and even then, she only had enough strength left to squeeze my hands. “Promise me… you won’t… fight him alone. Promise me… if anything happens… that… you’ll find him. Find Logan. Your brother will… protect you…” “I promise, Mama,” I said. I only meant to calm her, to give her something she could hold on to. I didn’t know that promise would shape everything.