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8-year-old Verena De Luca was lying contently in her bed when she heard the screams from the corridor. It was late at night, her mother had allowed her to stay up to finish reading a book about America. Once she had finished she dowsed the candle next to her and roughly pulled her duvet up to her neck.

She had just laid her head down to sleep when she heard her mother's scream. It was a high pitched shriek, then loud sobs followed, echoing in the hallway. "mio figlio, they've killed mio figlio."

Verena pulled her covers to her face, trembling, a cold sweat starting to form between her eyebrows. She could still hear the sobs from the hallway when her father slammed her door open, with a shotgun in hand. "Get up Rena, we need to go"

Verena quickly pulled the covers off of her and slid out of bed, her white night gown falling to her ankles. She quickly grabbed clothes and packed them in a bag. Her father snatched her bag and wrapped her coat around her, picking up both her and her bag, running to the end of the hallway to pull her sobbing mother off the floor

"Natalia we have to go, we have to leave now Amore Mio"

He takes his wife and daughter leads them out of the house into the snow, Verena furiously shaking from the cold. "Papá, I want to go home"

"We can't go home anymore Tesoro. We're going to Canada, we'll be safe there"

They walked for miles before suddenly Verena dropped to the ground writhing in pain. "Papá, Mamá, Make it stop." She screamed, writhing on the ground in the snow. Everything was on fire and she let out a blood curdling scream.

Then she went quiet.

Blood was dripping in the snow, and Verena looked at the origin of the blood. Three long spikes made of bone are shot out of her knuckles on both hand. She looks down at her feet where she had 2 spikes on her feet, piercing through her boots.

Her mom let out a scream, "what have they done to you" Verena started to cry in fear of the new bone growth.

Her father kneeled in front of her and wiped the tears from her face with his thumb. "It's okay, Tesoro, we'll keep you safe."

They walked even more in the cold, each of them exponentially loosing energy as they trekked in the cold. They stumbled across a village in their final steps and found themselves tripping into an inn. "Please help my family, we just need to make it to the port, we just need a room for a night" her father begged to the clerk.

"Yes, yes of course" the clerk lead them to their room where they barely made it to the bed. Her father tucked her and her mother into bed and waited till they had fallen asleep to take his place on the floor in front of the fire that had taken over the fireplace in the room.

The next morning, the De Luca family continued their trek through the snow until they made it to the fields, and by nightfall, they reached the dock. They managed to make it on the last boat set out for Canada, Matteo De Luca carrying a sleeping Verena on his back as the family boarded the boat.

The De Luca family found solace in Canada, they built a house and built a life for themselves. Verenas mother had her other siblings Isabella and Dante. They were happy.

Till the grief of loosing her older brother, Marco, hit her father like a train. He would come home from work each night, stumbling into the kitchen, taking his anger out on her and her mom.

Verena took the hits though. To protect her mom and siblings. She would never fight back with her claws, scared to cause more harm than good. That was till she realized how fast she healed. 

On a bad night when her father almost beat her half to death she limped to her room, pushing away her mother who tried to help. She had barely reached the stairs when she could feel the cuts on her face stitch together. She could feel every cell slowly close the wounds and heal the bruises. The pain in her leg slowly vanished, and she darted up to her bathroom.

When she made it to the bathroom, she stopped right in front of the dirty mirror. She brushed her fingers against her cheek, where the cut from her dad's rings had been. Except it was gone, the only trace of it was the dried blood and dirt. No cut, no scar, no trace of the wound, except for the image seared into her brain. 

 She looked down at her hands and slowly let the claws out. She felt a burning pain as they shot through her knuckles, blood slowly smearing over her knuckles. She dragged the claws along her arm, and the cuts disappeared as soon as she made them. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. She was already 19, yet she didn't look a day over 16. 

Determined, Verena went to her room and put on her black funeral dress, forgoing the petticoats. She laced up the back of her dress, braided her knotted curls, and adjusted her funeral headpiece in the mirror. She packed her belongings into a satchel her mother had embroidered with the family crest, then made her way downstairs, her fingers trailing along the banister. She brushed her fingers against the portraits that were hung along the wall, her fingers stopping over the portrait of her grandparents for longer.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she dropped the satchel by the end of the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. Her mother had left the wood stove burning to keep the downstairs warm during the night. She brushed her fingers over the wooden counter tops as she took her place in the middle of the kitchen. 

"Papá, come quick, somethings wrong!" She shouted.

She hoped her shouts didn't awaken her siblings. She turned her back to the stairs and awaited her father. She heard his footsteps as he slowly grumbled down the stairs. He grunted as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, "What's wrong Tesoro, it's late, why aren't you in bed?"

"Papá somethings wrong, somethings happening to me," she cried out as he approached her back. 

"What's wrong Figlia?"

Suddenly a pair of her claws were in his chest, and he gasped, the blood trickling down his white night shirt. "This is for Mamá." She stuck the other claws into his chest. "And this is for Bella and Dante. You will never hurt them again." She retracted her claws and he fell to the floor in the kitchen. She took a towel and wiped her knuckles on it, cleaning the fresh blood. Her father's blood was pooling at her feet. She took a piece of paper out of the top of her dress and left it next to the body.

She took her time walking out of the house. She reached for the satchel by the stairs and walked towards the front door. She took one last look at her father's body before she walked out, closing the door behind her. She walked over to the horse stable and let her horse out, bridling and saddling her. 

And then she rode off into Canada. 

Never looking behind her.

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©️Fanofadifishman

Translations:

Mio Figlio- My Song

Amore Mio- My Love

Tesoro- Sweetheart

Figlia- Daughter

A/N: Hi guys!!!! Verena is Italian if you guys didn't know, translations will be at the end of each chapter. She's 10 years younger than Logan. Anyway, I'm so excited to share this fic with you, I love you all,

Allegra 💙