Jakob sat in the library, a book open on his lap. A whine sounded to his left, and he pet the younger wolf that sat there, concerned. After a moment, he put his glasses on, then picked up the book to read. It was an updated version of an old tome, The History of the Hagia Sofia, a book which had been gifted to him centuries ago by Sister Elena, before she left the coterie to head back to her nunnery. Over the years he’d turned to it now and again as a sort of comfort, though now he read a modern version of it rather than the original, to keep it from degrading further.
He’d opted not to go to Elysium that night, not wanting to run the risk of seeing Ren, or even just his system. Things had been a little frosty between him and Avery since Ren’s surprise visit the previous week, though Jakob felt he was trying to curb his jealousy. Are you though? Came a soft whisper in the back of his mind. Jakob attempted to ignore that nagging little voice, but the words in front of him began to blur. Taking off his glasses, he set them aside and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.
The pup whined again, shifting uncomfortably. Jakob pulled a hand away to reach and comfort the animal, noting that it was wet and red. He sighed heavily as he used his other hand to pat the pup, again trying to reassure it. Standing, careful not to get blood on the chair he’d been sitting in, he got up and made his way to the bathroom, taking a look in the mirror before turning on the faucet.
Two bloody lines, formed at the inner corners of his eyes, streaked down his face, smeared somewhat by the bridge of his nose due to where he’d held his hand moments earlier. The red was a stark contrast to the blue of his eyes, and it jarred him a little. The fact that he was crying was jarring in and of itself; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d shed tears. He placed his hands under the faucet then, rinsing the blood off his hand, watching the red circle the drain before he splashed water on his face, helping to wipe the streaks away with a cloth.
You aren’t worthy, the voice came again, and he froze. It was long enough for that voice to wiggle a seed of doubt into his brain. He froze, recognizing the voice. It had been centuries since he’d heard that voice. With that came a recollection; a memory of a time in the youth of his breathing days. His father stood over him, exasperated with Jakob, beating him out of frustration.
You aren’t worthy of the life I have given you his father had growled as he beat the boy. Father, he’d pleaded, begging him to stop. I’ll do as you ask! I’ll settle down, I’ll marry, I’ll — he had promised. It’s too late, his father had said. Tomorrow I am sending you away. You’re worthless — a stain on my legacy.
It was a painful memory, knowing his father had hated him because of who he was. He’d been sent to a monastery, where he was indoctrinated. It had been the beginning of his legacy of heresy against God. It was why he considered himself atheist now — because he’d been condoned for who he was.
Anger overcame him at the memory. Growling in frustration, he lashed out at the nearest object, which just so happened to be the mirror. It broke, pieces embedding in his flesh as other shards fell around his fist, falling into the sink or onto the floor. He dropped to his knees, not caring if any shards pushed themselves through his jeans and into his flesh.
He loathed being a Brujah. Hated the temper that came with it. Avery had been one of the first to show him kindness and acceptance for who he was, and how had he repaid it? Jealousy and possessiveness, without giving back. Avery deserved better. He couldn’t understand what Avery ever saw in him. It had taken him so long to admit how he felt, and Avery had been so patient. But now…it felt like he was going to lose him, and he wanted to cling tight; his Beast wanted to possess. It was a volatile combination.
He needed to seek to reign in his beast, but he didn’t know how. He needed to reign in his jealousy, that desire to keep Avery all to himself. Avery deserved better than what Jakob had been giving. He looked around him at that moment, and stood, slowly. After a moment he began to pick shards and pieced out of his hands, knees and shins, then set about cleaning the mess. Next, he took care of the pups, so Avery didn’t have to worry about it whenever he came back home.
Maybe my father was right, came an intrusive though. Maybe the monks were right about me too. The self-doubt was setting in heavy, and he didn’t know what to do; didn’t know anyone to turn to. It was crushing, and making him angry and frustrated. Trying to calm down, he breathed through is nose, and out through his mouth, several times in an effort to calm down. I’ll head out, he thought, heading back inside after counting to make sure all the pups were present outside. I’ll go feed, and maybe that’ll help had been the thinking. Whether it would or now, he didn’t know, but hunting would give him some focus, and he desperately needed that right now.