12. Soren
SOREN
The Offering wails, and my cock jumps. The book in my hands slams closed with my tension.
My brother and Lex have been at it for the better part of an hour, and if they don’t shut the fuck up soon, I’m going to lose my mind.
I might be the butt of their jokes, the serious one, but at least I’m not a puppet.
My teeth clench, and my fingers tighten around the cover.
Rage and something else course through me as I do my damnedest not to open the door and start a fight.
I’m better than this , I lie to myself again.
The other emotion trying to rip me apart pushes forward, and I realize exactly what it is.
Am I truly jealous of my brother right now?
I’ve never been before, not about an Offering or anyone really.
He’s the one with issues, only being born two minutes after me but still being second best. He and the rest of them don’t think.
There's nothing there to envy. They jump in with both feet every year, not even considering the consequences of their games.
“We’re the founding families, and it’s expected of us.”
Endless bullshit to explain why they like having their own personal fuck toy.
But that’s exactly what the Offering is: their sex slave, pet, a title excusing treating people as if they’re subhuman.
They want to take their darkest impulses out on someone, and they forget how much a privilege like that costs.
The Offering always provides informed consent, but that doesn’t make what they do to them okay.
I know better, so I don’t take advantage of these women or the situation, never borrowing what I’m not willing to repay.
This year is already proving more challenging than usual, though.
The Offering has never sounded so enthusiastic about her position.
They want me to join in. That’s why my brother takes the room down the hall and leaves me in this one.
He wants me to watch as he walks past on his way to use them.
He’s taunting me because I judge them, and it reminds them that they should be better than this.
They would love nothing more than for me to sink to their level and indulge in this archaic tradition.
I don’t agree with it, and I don’t need a whore.
I’m a good-looking man, and if I can’t get pussy without a contract and a Bellthorn education, something is wrong with me.
The truth doesn’t matter to my cock, though, which won’t stop twitching.
The book flies from my hand as my irritation gets the best of me, smacking the door before fluttering to the ground.
Fuck this. I stand, refusing to listen any longer.
I already knew what it sounded like when my brother came because of his stark lack of boundaries, but I didn’t actually need to hear Lex orgasm.
The door flies open a moment later, the smell of sex pouring inside before anything else.
My brother steps forward with his cock hanging out and still wet from whichever of the Offering’s holes he used.
A sly smile stretches his cheeks, and he slides me a dirty look, confirming he knew exactly what he was doing.
“How’s the studying going, Soren?” My brother tosses a pointed look at the textbook on the floor. I guess they heard me after all.
“Perfect, you fucking cunt.” The Offering arrived a few weeks late this year, and the first set of exams is already underway; the midterms are just three weeks off.
My course load is rigorous this year because I’m hoping to graduate early.
Orion knows it, and he’s dead set on ruining it.
This isn’t his first attempt at sabotaging me this semester, just his most effective.
“That’s what I like to hear. You’re going to get free of me a whole year early.” His tone begs for a fight, and I’m desperate to give it to him. “Too bad for you and your morals, I’ll be the only perfect cunt you’re getting.”
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth hurt, my knuckles whiten, and I refuse to give him any more.
He’s already gotten far too much out of me.
Orion looks so identical to me that if it weren’t for the tattoos covering my body, telling the difference would be impossible.
It’s obvious now as he stands with his pants at his thighs and me in a T-shirt, but when we’re dressed for school in the required Bellthorn Regalia?
We might as well be one. He resents me for being older, for inheriting the responsibility of the Rook name.
I resent him for doing whatever the fuck he wants while wearing my face.
If I change my hair, he’ll change his too; there’s no escaping him.
“Mom called,” I say, lying through my teeth but knowing mentions of her are the fastest way to fuck up his night. I can’t hit him, but I can fuck with him like he does to me.
Orion’s face falls, and he nearly reaches for his pants to tuck himself away, but at the last possible second, he smiles. “She won’t call unless Dad’s dead. You’d be in a better mood if he were.”
“Maybe that’s the only time she would call you .” He doubts himself for only a second before he laughs and walks out. My cock still bobbing on his hips. He slams the door to my bedroom, but of course, he leaves the door to the Offering wide open.
Now that it’s quiet, her soft moans pour out of the room, followed by a quiet sobbing.
I wonder for a moment why she’s crying, but I refuse to indulge my own curiosity.
With my brother's image freshly implanted in my mind, the urge to be anything but him is far stronger than usual. I close the door, cutting myself off from her, but it’s not enough.
I briefly consider going on a rampage and smashing everything my brother owns to pieces like I did once when we were kids.
It felt good for a moment, but I know from previous experience it won’t have the desired effect.
We have too much money. Everything he owns can be replaced, and he enjoys the destruction more than I do.
That’s exactly how he trapped me in this school and this life.
He is always willing to take things further than I am.
He doesn’t care if he starts a fire that winds up burning him too.
I want peace, and he wants chaos, and because of that weakness, I’m by far the easiest to manipulate.
One day, though, that may change, and my brother shouldn’t be so eager for who I am without the morals he mocks.
Maybe a part of me is worse than him and hungrier because it’s spent so long being denied.
This pattern of thoughts concerns me, and I’m overwhelmed with an urge to escape.
I quickly throw on some clothes, feeling too powerless and pissed off to stay in this fucking room.
All of this is our parents’ fault, but as the days pass, I’m growing to resent Orion as much as them.
I need to yell at someone who will listen.
I need to make someone shake because the feeling of impotence is too much to handle.
My mind briefly flits to the Offering lying there wet and mewling, but I decide on bigger prey.
Leaving our shared apartment behind to find the dean, I’ll demand to be moved out of this room.
They won’t end the tradition? Fine. I don’t have to participate.