A/N: Alright people, thanks for the support. And to those of you… you ‘Jess’ person who was bold enough to state the same bullshit complaint but not bold enough to leave a link so I could reply. It’s simple. If you don’t like this story, it’s update schedule or any other thing about it, you can very easily go click that nifty little exit button at the top right corner of your screen and, frankly, fuck off.

That said, let’s answer some questions.

Yes. I plan for Hakon and Saska to have stories.

Women are more asexual and as such need no type of sperm to breed.

Kits normally have the ability to shift within the first week-and-a-half to two weeks. They shift frequently.

Oh and Marrow is pronounced like Morrow. Like tomorrow.

Chapter Seven

An eight-year-old Marrow sat patiently upon the sofa, just as his bearer had asked him to. The man had apologized for leaving him at the Reyl camp again and really seemed to mean it this time plus he had even promised a surprise! Marrow just couldn’t wait! Still, he sat still as not to rumple his appearance, just like his bearer told him to. It had been a good long while since his bearer had spared him a glance much less actually taken the time to be kind to him but he had been doing so all day and Marrow couldn’t be happier. He knew his bearer would love him again some day.

Hearing the door open he smiled, only to frown abruptly at the unfamiliar man that followed his barer. The Zercan Giver that followed looked to be in his mid to late twenties but it wasn’t his age that concerned the child, but that uncomfortably hungry look in his eyes when he glanced his way. And when those eyes roamed over him he felt a know begin in his stomach and pulse, almost as if his body were giving him warning. He didn’t understand that look or the fear that came with it but trusted his bearer not to let harm come to him. After all, he loved Marrow today.

“Stand up, Marrow,” his bearer’s voice was once again condescending, not at all the sweet one of just a few moments ago. “Let our guest have a look at you.” When his son didn’t move, Kailo marched over and forced the young giver to stand. “Barak?”

Barak eyed the youth, a white-hot fire enveloping him and scorching through him at the youngster’s childish beauty. The fact that the kit was a giver only heightened his pleasure and anticipation. “Show me more.”

Marrow gasped as his shirt was pulled from him followed by his trousers until he stood bare. Turning questioning eyes to his bearer, his face was immediately forced forward and made to stay there and watch as the unfamiliar man shed his clothes. “Be Ba, I’m frightened,” he whispered, whimpering when he was jerked around to face Kailo.

The man’s pretty face blocked his view; “You will do as your told, Marrow. Do you understand?” When his son just stared at him, he turned him back around and pushed him into a nude Barak’s lap where the man now sat upon the sofa. He said nothing more, just walked away from the pair, ignoring the sounds of his kit struggling to follow after him. Exiting the room, he made his way down over to the elegant chaise that held his latest Reyl lover.

But a few moments later a blood-curdling scream sounded within the house, followed by a loud slap and curse. “Wench!” Barak’s voice called. “Come hold this hell-cat down!”

Kailo pouted and gave his lover a promising kiss before returning to the house to do as he was told. The sight of his struggling child beneath a man four times his size didn’t seem to phase him at all, at least not in any way that would be considered natural. No, a protector was obviously not in his nature but something far from it obviously was as he felt himself become hardened by the scene before him.

“Help me, Be ba,” Marrow whimpered, tears running down his face as pain spread through him. A pain that then broke his heart as his Bearer’s hand took hold of it.

“Continue and be quick about it,” Kailo’s voice was bemused, his eyes watching intently where the pair was joined. “I’ve a mind to sample the forbidden.”

A young Reyl male watched through the door, horror contorting his features at what he saw. He had only come to see what kept bearer and was shocked to see a crude and disturbing sight. His feet seemed glued to the ground, unable to move forward to help and yet unable to move away. His eyes remained stuck to the kit’s face, watching the fight die as one finished with him and his own bearer mounted him. He watched as vibrant green eyed dulled to something unnatural, dead-like even as he stopped struggling. His tiny face turned to the side to stare directly at him, no hope showing at the sight of him, as he no doubt assumed he’d get no help from the newcomer.

And he didn’t, the Reyl instead kicking up dust as he ran from the sight. Shame filling him, knowing that he should have helped the child but did not. He tried to justify himself by retelling himself that there were two against one and no doubt a guard somewhere he knew not of. But he knew better. The child’s bearer would have wanted no one else to witness such an atrocity, Not knowing what to do, he turned home.

A week or so later, Doriuq, a young Reyl, watched as the boy of that night was pulled through the Reyl market. His green eyes still glazed with a far away look in them. Many times he had to be forcefully tugged in the right direction, his mind obviously not on his surroundings. Seeing this, Doriuq hung his head in shame knowing just why the kit was lost and what little he had done to help him.

He watched still though, following discreetly as the youth’s Giver met them in the crowd, hugging the unresponsive boy to him. The Zercan male, seeing the unusual state of his son, immediately turned to his mate. The two seemed to bicker a moment before the Giver stormed away with his son.

Doriuq watched the bearer approach just as his mate went out of site, turning his face away when the man would speak to him. “You will leave me, Kailo,” he said harshly, “I want nothing more to do with a monster such as you.”

Kailo showed little remorse, guessing what the man had seen and giving a dainty shrug. “We are all monsters, Doriuq,” his voice was low, but astoundingly loud to the Reyl despite the crowd. “In one way or another.”

Doriuq told his sin a story, a story of abuse and betrayal. Of the pain and unmanning of a young child who was never given a chance. Of Tamber’s own mate. He bowed his head as he spoke, not wishing his son to think less of him but forcing the story from his lips.

“Marrow’s Giver was still unaware of the damage dome to the boy and thought nothing of leaving him with his Bearer – who would? – when he was called away to the palace,” his tone was void of any expression so keen was he on keeping his emotions in. “The country house had many more guests in his absence, Barak more frequently than most. I crept up that hill a few times more, trying my best to convince myself that I was mistaken in the happenings.”

The older man squeeze his eyes shut, seemingly to block out the memories, the horrible memories and the images that came with them. “That boy was forced into unimaginable things, his own Bearer a constant part of his humiliation and downfall. I watched as they used him as he grew, turning their lusts into a more sinister form of sex. They tortured him, forcing unspeakable acts and harming him until he would scream. Many screams scorched our ears as we were camped so close. It wasn’t until Kailo and Barak brought the boy into the camp for ‘fittings’ did we finally pack up.”

He turned his back to his son, tears stinging his eyes at what he allowed to happen. “We left him there, only few guessing what I knew. But we all knew Kailo’s ways and we all left a screaming child to his fate.”

“W-was he ever offered help?” Relle whispered, heart crying for the boy.

“Years later we heard some news. Many years later.”

“Spit it out, Giver,” Tamber spat ths name out as an insult. Tears soaking his lilac eyes before running over tanned cheeks. His heart hammered so badly he feared it would burst as an overwhelming pain tightened his chest.

“The boy’s giver died, leaving Kailo alone permanantly with the boy. He was seventeen cycles or round about that then and coming into his manhood… or his body was anyway, his mind was much too mature even as his mind came and went.” He reminisced. “His bearer brought men in to play and the young man lashed out, he killed them all save his Bearer who ran into hiding. Hearing of the massive massacre a young Shodan Sariphan came to call. The Shodan was very young vbut terribly bright and when Marrow finally broke down and told man everything. Kailo was executed before his kit’s very eyes. People seemed to think it was strange that he would smile at the site.”

“What then did he do?”

“He threw himself into a warriors life, fighting outer planet battles in the Gli war and helping a young Shodan bring peace,” Doriuq told what he had heard over the years. “I think his memories still cut him and… Perhaps people do not lie when they say the man is not ‘all there’. I fear a piece of his mind will forever be lost.” Finished, the elder rose and walked away, not wanting his mate or son to witness his shameful tears.

Tamber launched himself into his Bearer’s arms, terrible heart wrenching sobs rocking his body. He had been unprepared as a mate and had rejected Marrow before the eyes of his peers, humiliating him. After everything he had been through, he had pushed him away. Half the man’s life had been a painful struggle and he had fought him and took even more from that life. Tamber felt horrid.

“N-No wonder he is fitful when he sleeps,” he sniffled, remembering the kit-like groans and whimpers. The thrashing before he fell into a pained cry. Marrow was reliving his pains as he slept, when he had no control of his thoughts.

------ ------

Marrow watched the group from afar, his heightened hearing allowing him to hear everything. Doriuq’s story was accurate enough that he knew now without a doubt that the man was the bystander, watching his pain. He had watched Tamber as he cried, heartened at the caring and shamed by the pity. He wanted Tamber to want him, not come to him because of his sympathy. True, the boy had needed to know about his past. It was the only way they could ever truly be one and know one another as mate’s should. But still, a large part of him wished he had kept the secret to the grave.

Turning his back to them, he walked further into the woods, his head whipping around abruptly at the sound of the approaching elder. “What do you want, old man?” his voice was not welcoming.

Doriuq’s face looks a bit ragged, as if genuinely distraught. “Do you not feel anything at the retelling? You were wronged, boy, terrible ways-”

“I feel nothing.” He stated flatly, coldly. His dead eyes meeting the man’s to hold his stare. “I am nothing. Nothing but a memory.”

The elder felt extremely self-conscious with those eyes on him and so turned his face away. “What will you do now?”

“I will take him to Scrinjx City. I will give him everything,” he answered as he too turned away. “He will want for nothing.”

“He will want your heart.”

“I haven’t one to give. But he may have what is left of me,” he said softly. Marrow’s eyes touched Tamber’s lithe frame once, his heart chest clenching at the still tears soaked eyes as the man clung to his bearer. Sighing at this hopeless match, he turned and walked in the other direction.

“But what if left of you to give?” Doriuq said softly as he watched the man’s fleeting form disappear before turning to the solitude of hi tent.