Gone out of their way to hurt and humiliate him.
Rage flooded him as his gaze sharpened once more. He looked around the immaculate cabin where every detail showed Astrid's wealth. In his human existence a woman like her would have spat in his face for no other reason than that he dared to cross her path. He would have been so far beneath her that he would have been beaten for even daring to lift his gaze to her face.
To look her in the eyes would have been his death.
"Is this slave bothering you, mistress?"
He winced as the memory ran through his mind.
At age twelve he had been foolish enough to listen to his brothers as they pointed out a woman who was in the marketplace.
"She's your mother, slave. Didn't you know? Uncle freed her just last year,"
"Why not go to her, Zarek? Maybe she'll take pity on you and have you freed, too."
Too young and too stupid to know better, he had stared at the woman they showed him. She had hair as black as his and perfect blue eyes. He'd never seen his mother before. Had never known she was so beautiful.
But in his heart, she had always been more beautiful than Venus. He had envisioned her as a slave like himself who had no choice but to do as her master said. He'd built up a whole dream of how he'd been ripped from her arms after birth. How she had wept for him to be returned to her.
How she had pined every day for her lost son.
Meanwhile, he had been given to his merciless father who had vengefully kept him away from her caring arms.
Zarek was sure she would love him. All mothers loved their children. It was why the other female slaves had no use for him. They were saving all their rations and affections for their own.
But this woman... she was his.
And she would love him.
Zarek had run to her and embraced her, telling her who he was and how much he loved her.
But there had been no warm welcome. No motherly affection.
She had looked at him with abject disgust and horror. Her lips had curled cruelly as she hissed to him, "I paid that whore good money to see you dead."
His brothers had laughed at him.
Zarek had been too crushed by her rejection to move or breathe. He had been devastated to learn that his mother had bribed another slave to kill him.
When a soldier approached them to ask if he were disturbing her, she had said coldly, "This worthless slave touched me. I want him beaten for it."
Even after two thousand years those words resonated through him. As did the pitiless look on her face as she turned and left him to the soldiers, who had gleefully carried out her order...
"You are worthless, slave. Good for nothing at all. You're not even worth the scraps it takes to keep you alive. If we're lucky mayhap you'll die and save us the winter rations for a slave who has some value."
Zarek growled as his memories took hold of him. Unable to deal with the pain they caused, he lashed out with his powers. Every lightbulb in the den shattered, the fire roared in the hearth, narrowly missing Sasha, who had been lying before it. Pictures fell from the walls.
All he wanted was for the pain to stop...
Astrid screamed as her ears were assailed with foreign sounds. "Sasha, what's happening?"
"The bastard tried to kill me."
"How?"
"He shot a fireball from the fireplace into my hindquarters. Man, my fur is singed. He's having a fit of some kind and using his powers."
"Zarek?"