TRIGGER WARNING: SEE BOTTOM NOTE FOR DETAILS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The living room was almost devastatingly silent. Autumn sat perfectly still, staring at the smooth skin of her daughter's chest where a scar should have been. Fingers pressed to her lips, she listened as Isla explained what had happened to her, what Deucalion had done.

"I don't think he meant to hurt me," the girl explained as she did up the few buttons of her shirt. Her fingers weren't quite steady. Jittery with nerves, Isla cleared her throat as she pulled on her sweat shirt. "I think he panicked."

Biting her lip, she chanced a glance from her mother's thin mouth to her eyes and cringed at the tears she found in them. Her own began to well at the sight of them and she quickly dropped her gaze to her hands. "I don't know if I'm going to stay with him, but he fixed me, Mom."

Autumn squeezed her eyes shut and covered them with one hand.

"Mom, Mom, don't… please don't be sad…" The redhead sighed as her mother began to sob. Easing onto her knees in front of her, Isla pulled her arm down.

Autumn refused to meet her gaze, biting her lip and looking anywhere but at her daughter.

Swallowing, Isla went on, her tone a bit firmer, "He fixed me. I'll never have to go to another hospital again, Mom. I won't have to get that surgery or get another scope."

With a heavy heart, she admitted something that had been haunting her since the night before. "I know it's sick but I'm so grateful. What he did- I wasn't brave enough to take the chance and he shouldn't have made it for me, but I'm so fucking relieved, Mom."

The woman nodded, a bit frantic and a bit flustered as she agreed, "I know. I know, I am too, really, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you." Cupping Isla's cheeks, Autumn pulled the girl forward to press a kiss to her brow. As she held her daughter close, she sniffed. "But if he ever lays a hand on you again-"

"Technically he laid teeth."

Unamused, Autumn held Isla at arm's length. Features tense and flushed, she snapped, "Isla Rae."

The younger redhead squirmed in her hold. Shoulders rolling restlessly, Isla floundered slightly under her mother's stern stare. "I know what you're saying- but what if I can help him? What if I can keep him from hurting other people?"

"By letting him hurt you?!"

"He hasn't yet! He hasn't even tried to!" She craned her neck to rest her cheek on Autumn's hand. "Maybe he just needs an anchor- maybe I can be that for him." With a hint of shame, she dropped her gaze and her voice as she admitted, "Maybe I want to be that for him."

Her mother sighed and stroked her cheek tenderly. Tears still flowing from her eyes, Autumn frowned. "Don't be a martyr for a man who doesn't deserve it, Isla."

"What if he does?" The younger woman sat up a bit straighter. "What if he can be a good man? He's been good to me, I know he can change if he wants to. It just…takes time."

"I know it does. But…"

"It's harder to change back," they finished together. When Autumn frowned, Isla carried on, "I know… But I think he'll try; if not for himself than for me. I think he cares about me."

At her mother's scoff, Isla bit her lip. She thought back to how tenderly Deucalion had cleaned the strange black goo from her lips and how he had held her in the kitchen. She remembered how he felt flush against her back and how gently he had touched her. The whisper of his lips against her ear and how he had quietly asked for her forgiveness and the young woman knew that the dangerous Alpha cared for her in his own morbid way.

Voice firm, Isla nodded, "I know he does. If he didn't he wouldn't have told me all those terrible things. He didn't have to. He could've kept me in the dark and bit me and kept on being an animal, but he didn't."

Autumn sighed. "I don't like it."

"I know."

"And I don't trust him." The woman pushed her daughter's orange hair from her eyes and gently fixed the top of her sweatshirt. "But I trust you."

Isla nodded and kissed the back of her mother's hand. "Thank you."

Her fingers tightened around her daughter's to the point of pain. Frowning, Autumn lifted the girl's chin to meet her gaze. "But you have to promise me you'll get out of there if anything happens. You have to promise me you'll leave him if he so much as looks at you the wrong way. Promise me, Isla."

"I promise."

The words were still echoing around inside her head when Isla made her way back to her apartment. The last time her mother had made her promise anything, she had been 18 and about to go under the knife. You come back to me, Isla Rae, you fucking promise me, Autumn had pleaded from beside her hospital bed. The same kind of dread, the same kind of horrible apprehension that she wouldn't be able to keep her word made Isla's stomach knot. She wanted to be strong and independent, but she knew she needed Deucalion. At least for now. Her body was changing in ways she didn't understand and she needed a guide and, well, she hadn't been lying when she told him she wanted to be partners.

Licking her teeth, the young redhead fought back a sigh. Rough fingers wiped the rainwater from her face as she slid her key into the lock.

The first thing that struck her was the smell. Her apartment smelled…strange. Isla frowned and sniffed at the air. It was metallic and heavy and she fought the urge to gag. It was a horrible, feral smell that made her skin ache and blood race. Her gaze flickered around the hall; nothing was out of the ordinary. Slowly, she pulled off her shoes and soundlessly set them beside Deucalion's black leather loafers. Apprehension made her stomach tight. On quiet feet, Isla crept toward the source of the scent.

In the bathroom, Deucalion winced. The pliers in his hands shook, the handle of them sticky in his fist. They were too slick to get a proper grip anymore and he let them fall to the edge of the sink as he brought his fingers to his mouth. Setting his teeth down on the claw of his index finger, the Alpha growled and ripped. The pain was almost excruciating, but nothing worse than he had been subjected to before as the claw was torn from the bone in his knuckle. A pulse of blood splattered against the mirror as he spit his nail into the sink. It clattered against the porcelain before settling next to the other six claws.

Wrinkling his nose, he realized his wasn't the only blood he could smell. A faint hint of Julia Baccari's still lingered under his claws and it sickened him to know he had touched Isla with a piece of her. Lips pulled back in a sneer, he grabbed the pliers from where he had set them beside the bladed tip of his cane.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The Alpha froze at the weakness in his lover's voice.

Unable to move, Isla could only stare at him from the doorway. Her gaze flickered from his shaking hands and the thick trail of blood that ran over his palms and forearms to the drops of it on her white tiled floor. His mouth was stained with it as well as his shirt and the front of his pants.

"Duke?"

He didn't answer her, instead just held the pliers a bit tighter before he slid the claw of his thumb into its mouth. He ripped it out with a pant and let it fall to the sink.

Slowly, he dragged his eyes to where Isla stood in the doorway. She was pale. Too pale and too young as her bottom lip quivered. In that moment, Deucalion knew he had made a mistake. Isla wasn't a born werewolf; she didn't understand the significance of what he was doing and frankly, he suspected she may be too soft-hearted to care. "Isla…"

"What are you doing?" She repeated, horrified and disgusted by the scent of pain and blood. Eyes wide, the young woman all but stormed into the bathroom. To his surprise, when she took his hand, it was gentle despite the rage in her voice, "Well?! What the hell is this?!"

The man licked a bit of his blood off his teeth. Frowning, he held the pliers firm as she tried to pry them from his shaking hand. "It's a tradition in my family-"

"Tradition?" Isla breathed with a mirthless laugh. Cradling his busted, bleeding fingers with care, she cringed. Tears pricked at her eyes when she realized how badly his hands were shaking, at how the wounds refused to close and were left gaping and bloody and she reached blindly behind her. Popping open the small drawer, the young woman shook her head.

The Alpha licked his lips as she pulled out a roll of bandages. "Don't. I'm not finished yet."

Her eyes snapped to his. Tears lined her blue eyes as she shook her head. "Yes, you are."

"It has to be a complete set." Swallowing, Deucalion pressed the bloodied handle of the pliers into her palm. "I need your help."

"No!"

Her lover eyed her sympathetically, but held her wrist tight. "I need you to take out my teeth."

"No!" Isla tried in vain to pull away from him. "Damn it, Dee-"

"I have to make amends." Deucalion drew her to his chest. Ignoring how she refused to meet his gaze, he nosed at her temple. "I hurt you. Don't you want to return the favor?"

The young woman shook her head before she buried her face in his neck. Arms thrown around his shoulders, she pulled him close and buried her fingers in his sandy hair. "No."

"Please." The Alpha pressed his lips against the top of her head and clenched his hands. His fingertips sang with the pain of it, but he ignored them. Setting them on the indent of her waist, he sighed into her hair. "I can't do it myself."

"No!" She snapped at him. Her voice was strained with tears as she thumbed at the nape of his neck.

"Isla."

The Beta pulled back from him with a glower. At his frown, she dropped her eyes to the sink. Her features crumbled at the sight of his blood and his claws. Covering her face, she stifled a sob. When Deucalion eased her back to his chest, she met his gaze. Her eyes sharpened and she delicately traced his brow with her thumb. "You haven't been to sleep yet, have you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! Because this is exactly the kind of fucked up shit people get up to when they don't sleep for two days, Duke!"

The Alpha sighed. "You don't understand-"

"No, I don't." Isla pulled back from him and took his hands once more. She cringed at how red his fingers were. "We need to get you to a doctor."

"Werewolves don't have much of a need for doctors."

She frowned and thumbed at his palms. Her hands grew red and slick with his blood. Grabbing the bandages, she gently began to wrap them around the tip of his pinky. As she pulled a pair of scissors out of the drawer, she asked, "So there aren't any?"

"There's one." Deucalion chuckled, somewhat bitterly, as she cut the thin white gauze and taped it into place. "But he doesn't like me. At least not anymore."

Isla didn't look up from his hands as she continued to fuss over his digits. Irritated by his caprice, she swallowed. "And there's only one werewolf doctor in the entire world?"

A smirk drifted over the Alpha's mouth. His lover's touch was incredibly tender despite her obvious annoyance (and perhaps a bit of fear, judging by her scent) and Deucalion was only vaguely aware of the pain in his hands. "Well, him and his sister…but I recently stabbed her so I doubt she'll be willing to help."

"Then I guess he's our better bet, huh?" The redhead met his gaze. His eyes were lined with dark circles and his stubble thick and with a hint of curiosity, Isla asked him why he hadn't slept.

"I can't."

"Did you try?" The Beta moved to his other hand and tried her best to ignore the stench of blood that filled the air. It was thick and humid in the small bathroom and she barely resisted the urge to snap at him again.

"I can't," Deucalion repeated, frustration clear in his voice. When she chanced a glance at him, he explained, "I can't risk losing it again. What if I wake up and it's gone?"

"Then we'll deal with that," she told him with a weak smile. "Just like we did before."

"But now I know what I'll be missing." The man's gaze softened at her. With an unsteady hand, he cupped her cheek and ignored how she flinched as his bloody palm brushed her jaw. "I don't know if I could bear to lose it a second time."

"Then let's go to the doctor. Find out for sure." Isla kissed his wrist. The scent of his blood, of his pain, was making her a bit crazy, but she kept her composure well. "At least then we'll know for sure."

The Alpha nodded. "I have to finish this first."

With a shake of her head, the young woman let out a bitter pant of a laugh. "Why? Why is this so important to you?" Hating how her voice cracked, she continued, "Why do you have to mutilate yourself?!"

He arched a brow at her. "What? You don't approve? I never would have guessed."

"Deucalion!"

With a smirk, he turned away from her. He turned on the facet and began to collect his claws. Cupping them in both hands, the man carefully washed away the blood that lined them. The bandages were already ruined, already stained through from his fingertips, so he hardly felt any guilt about ruining all of his lover's hard work. "It's a tradition in my family…in quite a few families, actually."

With a hint of annoyance, he realized he still had the claws of both the thumb and index finger of his right hand intact. "If you hurt someone, especially someone you care about, you have to make a promise not to do it again." Deucalion frowned and reached down to pull out the box he had stashed under the sink. It was ornately decorated and made of incolay stone. He had made it in his teens and taken it with him when he moved to America. "When my grandfather was a child, he bit his younger sister and she lost two of her fingers. So his father held him down and ripped out his fangs."

"That's awful," Isla breathed.

"When you're a wolf, you have to learn how dangerous you are at a young age." Deucalion began to gently arrange his claws in the thin notches that lined the velvet bottom of the box. "He said once you know that kind of pain, you hesitate to ever inflict it on anyone else. Even the thought of it sickens you."

Licking his eyeteeth, he carefully set the bladed tip from his white cane in the box as well. It was more a promise to himself than to Isla, a vow never to use it on her or discipline her like he had the twins.

"But he was just a boy…he couldn't have meant to-"

"I'm not saying it was right." Deucalion turned to face her. He flexed his fingers. The pain was intense but it was nothing compared to what his eyes had been. The feeling of his body desperately trying to heal was familiar though- the feeling of his claws trying to extend reminding him of how his eyes had felt when he struggled to see, the odd empty feeling of it and the strange vibrations under his nailbed as they tried and failed to close reminding him of the headaches he used to get after Gerard left him at the Distillery. "I'm saying it was effective."

Unsteady hands picked up the box and offered it to her. Isla stared at him a long moment, but stayed silent as her lover spoke.

"I promise I won't hurt you again, Isla. I swear it."

"And hurting yourself is supposed to make me feel better?" She shook her head with a sigh. "I don't want that. I want you to promise me you'll never hurt anyone again, including yourself."

Deucalion frowned. "I have to keep us safe."

"But not at the expense of innocent people." Isla touched the top of his hand. Running her fingertips tenderly over his knuckles and down to his wrist, she added, "Or yourself."

He nodded once. "I promise."

"Good." His lover mimicked his nod and swept some of his sandy hair from his sweat damp brow. "Now let's go see that doctor."

The man hummed with distaste, but nodded. "Fine."

His annoyance waned as she smiled at him. Her eyes were still red with tears and his blood stained her cheek, but there was warmth in her face. Resisting the urge to melt into her touch, Deucalion sighed.

Trigger Warning for self-harm and gore.

Sorry for the wait, I gave this to my beta a while ago and they never got back to me. So this is sadly unbetaed.