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Chapter 7

  • She hadn’t spoken since she came back out of the room. Griffin didn’t know what the walls were made of, but he hadn’t been able to hear what was being said. That was unusual for him. Since he was a teen he’d been able to hear things that most could not. That handy skill had probably saved his life more times than he could keep track of. He would hear what was going on and be able to adjust his behavior to avoid conflict or in most cases punishment. Of course, it didn’t work on Aiden as it had on his father. To Aiden, his existence made him guilty of everything.
  • He moved over to the window and leaned against the cage, ignoring the wire cutting into his shoulder. He had no real proof that Alberto Tomas was his father, other than being told he was. There was no resemblance at all to the senior or his full-blooded son. He’d never seen so much as a picture of Aiden’s mother, but he had to assume he took after her. Many hours of his life had been spent wondering about his own mother. What had she been like? Not what she shifted into, but the type of person she had been. He was going under the assumption she no longer lived, because he’d never heard speak of her in any way.
  • The older women were moved to the camps where they took the young girls. Had his mother been sent there at some point? He’d been to the boy camp as punishment for a year when his father was mad at him. There were no women there. He wondered if the girls were treated better than the boys were because, honestly, he wouldn’t wish what he’d been through on his worst enemy. Aside from the physical torture they suffered, from starving to being beaten, the main purpose he’d concluded of the camps was to brainwash the young males, making them believe that females were the lowest form of existence. Good for breeding, nothing else. He smirked as he wondered what Blaise would think of that, he was sure people would be hurt for telling her something like that.
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