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The anniversary was always hard for Ezra.
In the isolation of the woods, he had no way of keeping track of time, but he could feel it in his bones. As soon as autumn began to settle in, Ezra felt sick. Like something was twisted up and splintering inside him. Resentment built steadily as the days grew shorter and the chill crept into the air.
Ezra tried to keep his head down and his mouth shut. To stay calm and ignore the fury that grew in the pit of his stomach every time he had to look at Maul. To remind himself that this was his life now and he was never leaving and his parents were never coming back.
Still, he spent a lot of time in the cellar at this time of year.
Ezra’s arms were aching as he carried yet another load of wood to the pile outside the cabin. He hated the chore. It was another reminder of just what a disappointment he was. They wouldn’t need to prepare so much wood for the winter if he was able to shift outside of the full moon. But no matter how hard Maul tried to teach him, Ezra just couldn’t do it.
Three years had passed since Maul brought him to the cabin. Ezra tried to avoid thinking of it in terms of Maul kidnapping him, taking him, murdering his parents. But every autumn, it grew harder by the day.
As hard as he was trying to avoid it, Ezra’s anger surged. He threw the wood to the ground in front of the pile and kicked one of the logs. He pressed his hands over his eyes, gasping for breath as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Breaking down would only get him into trouble.
He could feel it just as much as hear it as Maul came up behind him. Ezra’s shoulders stiffened as the older werewolf placed a hand on the back of his neck.
“Ezra,” Maul said, his grip tightening just enough to serve as a warning. “You know you’re too old for this.”
His breath caught in his throat. Maul couldn’t see the tears that Ezra was hiding behind his hands, but somehow, he knew about them. He always knew. And he hated it. Seeing Ezra cry enraged him, like something inside him snapped at the sight of it.
“I’m sorry,” Ezra mumbled. He bent down and quickly began picking up the wood and hastily stacking it into the pile with shaking hands. The past few days had been relatively peaceful. Ezra had managed to keep from angering Maul too much, and the bruises from the last time he’d been locked up were beginning to fade. If he could just keep it together, everything would be fine.
But a sinking feeling of dread formed in the pit of Ezra’s stomach as he stood and turned to face Maul. With every year that passed, Maul grew less tolerant of Ezra’s anger and pain. As he always reminded Ezra in the most brutal ways possible, this was his life now. This was the only home he had left, and it was well past time he accepted that.
“What?” Ezra snapped.
Maul’s eyes narrowed, but his voice remained even as he spoke.
“You’ve been doing much better this year,” he said. “I’d hate for you to have another setback.”
Ezra clenched his jaw and said nothing. He hated how Maul always seemed to know what was going on in his head, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
Slowly, Ezra shrugged and looked down at his feet. He forced himself to stay calm and silent as he turned to head back into the woods and continue with his chore. But before he could take a single step, Maul’s hand rested on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“Ezra –”
“Don’t!” Ezra’s anger, barely contained as it was, exploded out of him as he turned and shoved Maul’s hand away. “Don’t pretend that you care!”
He hated this more than anything. The times Maul would pretend he understood. Pretended he cared that Ezra was hurting and wanted his parents. It made him want to rip the older wolf to shreds. But stuck in his human form, he didn’t stand a chance against Maul.
“Watch your tone, boy,” Maul said harshly.
“Or what?!” Ezra snarled, the last of his self-preservation instincts giving way to his anger. “You’ll beat me again? Lock me in the cellar? I’m fucking used to it!”
His furious words were cut off by a yelp of pain as the back of Maul’s hand struck his face. The blow was hard enough to send Ezra staggering back into the pile of wood behind him. In a split second, his heart doubled in speed, his rage cracking beneath the weight of the sheer terror that dropped over him. In that moment, he was keenly aware of just how much pain Maul was willing to inflict on him. How easily Maul could kill him. It was as if all the pain he’d suffered over the past three years was repeating itself all over again, crushing him beneath its weight.
Ezra cried out as he dropped to his knees. His first thought was that Maul had hit him again, but the man hadn’t moved.
Pain stabbed through Ezra’s body as he fought what he instinctively knew was happening. But he couldn’t stop his bones from shifting beneath his skin, his body twisting and reshaping itself, shoving him into a smaller space.
As he settled into his wolf form, Ezra froze, panic gripping him as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He’d never done this outside of the full moon before. He’d thought he just couldn’t.
Maul stepped toward him and Ezra snarled. But the older werewolf was undeterred by the attempt at a threat. He crouched down, an expression of pure pride on his face.
“That’s it,” Maul said. He reached out, and Ezra shrank back as Maul gently stroked his head. “I think we’ve finally found our way past this block of yours.”
Suddenly, he seized Ezra’s ear and twisted. Ezra whimpered and tried to break free, his claws scratching frantically at the ground, but that only made it hurt more.
“Now,” Maul said, a threatening edge to his voice. “Shift back.”
He twisted Ezra’s ear harder, making Ezra howl in pain. That wave of hopelessness surged up again, dragging at him until he just wanted to give up and drown in it.
Shockwaves of pain rattled through his body again, ripping him apart until suddenly he was human again, lying in a heap at Maul’s feet. Tears clung to his cheeks as he curled into a ball, gasping for breath.
“I knew you had it in you,” Maul said, his fingers threading through Ezra’s hair.
Ezra shuddered, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from Maul as he possibly could. To go home.
Shift, he urged himself. Just shift.
Ezra bit down viciously on his own hand, pressing as hard as he could until he tasted blood.
Just shift!
Finally, his body obeyed the command, responding to the pain. The stabbing agony of the shift shattered through him again until he was a wolf once more.
Not wasting a second, he shot to his feet and ran.