Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Killien
Shit! This can’t be happening!
Owen’s words resonate in my head. I’m panicking and I can’t breathe.
His hand is choking me so hard that I think I might die.
But I can’t, right? Vampires don’t die by asphyxiation.
Still, no matter how hard I dig my nails into his arms, he doesn’t flinch.
I try to kick him off, but he’s straddling me.
At least I’m wearing my boxers, and he’s still in his jeans. He’s gonna a have to let go of me at some point. That will be my chance to get the fuck out of here. There’s no point in getting into a fight. I’m not sure I can win against him.
“Seriously, Killien.” His green eyes stare down at me with a kind of hatred I’ve never seen in them before. “I’ve been too patient with you—I let it slide the first night because it was your first time with another guy. And I was good enough to wait until now, but business is business.”
“Fuck you—” I manage to whisper before he squeezes my throat tighter.
Owen grins at me like it’s all a sick joke to him. “No, I’m going to fuck you, baby. But don’t worry, you’ll love it and beg for more in the end.”
How could I not see this coming? I’m such an idiot!
I should have stayed home with Damien. I should have never let him get out of the car today.
Fuck Jacob, fuck Owen, fuck everyone. I should have asked what’s really been happening to my brother.
I should have opened up to him about my feelings too.
Maybe then, I wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation.
I close my eyes for a second as I swallow, trying desperately to pull Owen’s hand off my neck. I dig my fingers in between his, but he doesn’t budge. Until I hear him cry out in pain and he’s gone.
As I gasp for my first breath, choking and coughing, my vision goes blurry with tears from the pain. Blinking over and over, I try to get a glimpse of the commotion right in front of me.
“What the fuck?!” Owen yells. His body seems to be pressed against the brick wall, a smaller black figure standing right in front of him. “Did you just stab me?”
I sit on the sofa and rub my eyes, trying to get my vision to clear out. But I’m still coughing, and all I can see is the two figures moving slightly.
“You’re fucking dead.”
That voice . . . Damien?
But it can’t be. How is it possible? What’s he doing here?
“Let go of me, you fucking freak!” Owen hisses.
There’s a loud thud and a horrible cracking noise. The particular crack of bones. Hard ones. Owen cries out in pain again as I finally blink the tears away and stare at what is actually happening.
A trail of blood extends from between my legs towards the brick accent wall, splattered across the pristine white floors. The black figure is indeed Damien, holding Owen against the wall next to the fireplace.
Not just that, but Owen’s feet aren’t even touching the floor.
There’s blood slowly dripping from his head on the brick wall behind him.
His neck is turning red and purple under the pressure of Damien’s hand.
My brother looks so delicate in his sexy outfit, and yet he’s holding a vampire bigger than him as if it’s nothing.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Damien yells, his free hand wielding the pocketknife he carries with him everywhere. The one I gifted him years ago.
Owen laughs and coughs. “I’d love to see you try, little one.”
I can only stare in absolute fascination as Owen wiggles and kicks his feet, trying to free himself from my brother’s grip for what feels like an eternity. I’m worried that he’ll succeed, but he doesn’t.
Instead, Damien drops him, suddenly releasing his neck and letting him fall on his feet.
Owen can’t seem to keep his back straight; he coughs and chokes on his first breaths.
Damien is quick to make a swift movement with his right hand and slit Owen’s throat open, taking advantage of the moment of weakness.
I’m hypnotized by the way Damien made a cut so deep that Owen can no longer speak.
All he can produce now are ugly choking sounds, though his mouth keeps moving as if he’s trying to say something.
His green eyes are glowing bright with rage and terror, while he reaches for his own throat with both hands.
There’s no stopping the waterfall of blood that pours from him and spills all over the tiled floor.
“That’s for placing your ugly hands on my brother,” Damien says, leaning closer to Owen, whose back slowly slides down against the bloodied red bricks until he’s sitting on the floor. “And this is for trying to fucking rape him!”
Damien’s blade sinks into the left side of Owen’s chest with such force that I can hear bones breaking. A single, powerful stab right in the heart. Vampire bones aren’t easy to break—he’s so much stronger than he looks. And he’s not done. Damien drags the blade down, opening him up.
I hold my breath as my brother’s fingers dig into Owen’s chest. My attacker’s face seems distorted in a horrifying silent scream, his green eyes glowing so bright that they’re almost casting a faint light on my brother.
None of this can be happening. But it is. Could Jacob’s blood make him this strong? Or is this just who he is? All I do is blink and stare at Damien’s hand ripping Owen’s heart out of his chest. Literally. And it’s fascinating to watch, somehow.
God . . . Baby, you’re a fucking beast . . .
Damien squeezes the throbbing organ in his hand, producing a horrible wet sound, blood spilling all over. But Owen’s veins and arteries are still attached to it. He’s alive, feeling, and watching. His heart still beats loudly, filling up the entire room with its fast pulsing sound.
A smile curls up the corners of my lips.
Why do I like this? Why is it making me hard?
The sight of Damien bringing the beating heart to his mouth and biting into it takes my breath away. Blood drips down my brother’s delicate chin, soaking his short tank top and the damn sexy chained jeans.
And it’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I can only stare at his bloody fangs ripping pieces out of Owen’s heart before he spits them out, until it stops beating in his hand.
Blood gushes and drips from it, creating a huge mess on the floor beneath him.
Hot, red liquid spreads across the polished white tiles, making its way underneath the expensive furniture.
With a single swing of his pocketknife, Damien cuts the veins and arteries that kept the heart connected to the body, and then drops it on the floor.
He stares at the unmoving organ for a few seconds, his chest rising and falling in short, heavy breaths. Blood covers the lower half of his face and neck. I can’t help but think that he looks like a fallen angel.
Damien’s combat boot stomps on what’s left of Owen’s heart. Over and over, until it’s completely crushed, reduced to an unrecognizable pulp. And he keeps going, on and on, the ugly wet noise becoming the only thing I can hear besides my brother’s ragged breathing.
He saved me.
My little brother, the one I protected my entire life, has saved me this time . . .
I’m absolutely mesmerized. A warm sensation builds up in my heart, spreading its tickling wings through my entire body, followed by the endless black pit of desire that makes my cock hard. Both feelings coexist and intertwine, coiling up my spine like a roaring fire.
And I understand what it is. What it means.
I’m simply and purely . . . in love.
In love with the person who has been beside me since I can remember. In love with the boy I fought so hard to keep out of trouble and protect. In love with the only thing that has given purpose to my life. In love with the ruthless, twisted, and sadistic creature he’s become.
After all, we’ve only ever had each other. It’s us against the world. And I no longer care that I’m supposed to act like his older brother. It doesn’t matter anymore.
Damien huffs as he kicks what’s left of the heart towards the dead body.
It hits the wall with an ugly squishing sound and flops on the floor next to Owen’s limp hand.
The same one he tried to choke me with. His green eyes have glossed over, becoming empty and dull.
Vampire blood pools on the stark-white floor and goes cold around him, wasted. Such a shame.
As if he’d just woken up from a trance, Damien turns his head towards me.
His eyes are glowing bright, in the most beautiful shades of blue and turquoise I’ve ever seen.
He crosses the room in a few long steps and kneels on the orange sofa between my legs.
The silver threads in his irises seem to expand as his pupils narrow down on my face.
I swallow hard, knowing that my cock is tenting my underwear, and there’s no way that he won’t notice it. His soft, bloody hands caress my neck, which must still be bruised from Owen’s chokehold.
The touch of his skin against mine is like being transported to heaven.
He’s so gentle, so careful. His gaze studies my neck and face for a while, before settling on my lips.
I can’t help but admire how beautiful he is, all drenched in blood.
Burning red liquid still drips from his delicate chin, landing on his shoulders and on my T-shirt.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
I huff out a laugh, unable to create a single coherent string of words.
I can’t believe he’s real. I can’t believe how much I want him. The energy between us crackles like electricity once more, and I can’t resist his magnetic pull as I lean closer. I can’t look away from his wet lips while I run my tongue through mine, wishing he’d just kiss me once and for all.
Damien’s bloody hand cups my cheek, and I feel myself melting onto his fingers. “Fuck, Killi . . . I just—I couldn’t let him do that to you . . .” he whispers, making my heart skip a beat.
Before I can even process it, I’m kissing him; the real Damien. And the world seems to spin around us.