Chapter 18
Evander
Corwin is tearing through the house like a storm. Cabinet doors slam. Something metal hits the floor and rolls. He’s roaring the whole time, voice carrying down the hall.
“Where is it?”
I lean in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him toss couch cushions like they insulted him. I can read the sharp set of his jaw, the flush creeping up his neck. He’s not just pissed—he’s panicked. “What are you looking for?”
“My ring!”
I glance at the one on my own hand. Same silver band, same barbwire and skull. Garron has one too. “Why’d you take it off?”
“I didn’t wear gloves, and I didn’t want her to see it. What if she remembers it from picking up the tiny terror nephew of ours?”
I smirk. He’s not wrong to be careful, but the fact that it’s gone is eating him alive. “I’ll help you look.”
We search the whole house. I empty the washer, checking every damp piece of laundry.
My hands run over the jeans he wore the night with Agatha, my mind replaying every detail I know about her.
How close she stood. How her fingers might have brushed his without him noticing.
I check both vehicles, running my palm over the seats and under the mats. Nothing.
“Corwin!” Garron’s voice carries from his bedroom.
“I’m fucking busy, asshole!” Corwin yells back.
“I think I found what you’re looking for.”
My gaze meets Corwin’s. The unspoken question is there in his eyes—Did Garron have it this whole time?
We head down the hall toward our brother’s room.
Garron is sitting in the recliner by the closet, his laptop resting on the arm.
As we step inside, he nods toward the TV.
“I cast my screen so we can watch together.”
We turn, and there she is. Agatha. Silver hair, black bow, blood-red lips. My chest goes tight just looking at her. She’s in a black bra with a leather harness strapped tight over it, the buckles hugging her ribs and chest like hands that don’t want to let go.
She’s smiling, holding Corwin’s ring between her index finger and thumb.
“I took something that doesn’t belong to me,” she says. “You were too busy to notice, and I pickpocketed you.”
The chat explodes on the side of the feed, a rush of messages flying so fast they’re impossible to read. I don’t need to read them. I know what they’re saying. Half of them want to be her. The other half want to be the one she’s taunting.
But she’s not taunting them.
She’s taunting us.
And that makes my blood run hotter.
GutterPrince: No way, that’s his ring.
CryptCummin: She’s such a fucking tease.
BloodPetal: What else you take, pretty girl?
ThroatCandy: Bet he’s pissed right now.
Corwin growls under his breath. Garron’s laugh is low, amused, but I can’t stop the smirk pulling at my mouth. The sound of her voice does that to me, like she’s standing in the room instead of miles away, looking right at us and daring one of us to come take what’s hers.
“I think it’s only fair,” she goes on, “that you gave me two new jewelry pieces, so I took one of yours.”
My gaze cuts to Corwin. He’s locked on her like a man staring down prey that’s wandered into striking distance. There’s a heat in his eyes that isn’t just anger. He wants the ring back, but not as much as he wants to put his hands on her again.
She shifts on screen, slow enough to make it deliberate, and slides her bra cups to the side.
ChurchofAgatha: Holy shit, another new piercing(s)
GothDaddy69: Fuck yes, show it!
User876: Bet it hurt like hell.
SaintofSins: I want to drink from you sexy girl
Corwin’s sitting forward on the edge of Garron’s bed, elbows braced to his knees, eyes locked on the screen like he’s the only one in the room.
His mouth pulls into a slow, satisfied curve.
I glance at Garron, and he’s already looking at me.
We both shift our gaze back to Corwin at the same time.
He’s got that cat-who-got-the-cream look, smug and unbothered.
“You didn’t tell us you pierced her,” I grunt, more accusation than question.
Corwin shrugs without looking away from the screen. “Didn’t know I had to tell you everything.”
“She’s our girl,” Garron snaps, leaning forward, the chair groaning under his weight. “No secrets, or we can’t share.”
That gets Corwin to glance at us, finally, and the grin stays right where it is. “They look good though, don’t they?” He runs his tongue over his lips slowly, like he’s tasting the memory.
On the screen, she’s showing off her perfectly round breasts, the silver barbells gleaming under the lights. The sight is a punch straight to my gut. It’s not just the piercings; it’s knowing she let him do it and still looks right into the camera like she’s daring all of us for more.
“You better hope I don’t get an infection since I’m assuming you’re no professional. You didn’t even clean them after, you psycho. If I lose a tit, you’re losing a ball.”
The words hit and my cock stiffens instantly. I’m not the only one. Garron shifts in his seat, eyes fixed on her like she just issued a challenge none of us are willing to ignore.
“She’s a dark queen,” I murmur. “Our dark queen.”
And in my head, I’m already seeing her with all three of us; bound, marked, and still staring at us like this. Like she belongs here. Like she knows it.
TonyFromAccounting: Marry me.
ViceViper: She’s savage.
NotACopIPromise: I’d still ruin her.
She smirks. “If you want it, come and get it. Bring your friends. It’s time we talk.”
She slides the ring onto her thumb, then tilts her head. “Now, the rest of you have been so patient and nice while I tempt and tease the devils. So let’s get back to the regularly scheduled program.”
She stands, leaves the frame for a moment, then returns holding something. A tentacle dildo. Black and white, long enough that I know the base will barely fit inside her.
CreepCreepCreep: I’m dead. I’m dead.
SoftlySadist: Oh, she’s gonna cry on that.
MouthFull: Fuck yes, queen!
ThighHighPriestess: Make it disappear.
She slams it on the floor so the suction cup sticks, then hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. She slides them down slowly.
“Oops,” she says, grinning. “Forgot the tunes. You know we can’t have a show without music.”
“Cry Little Sister” by The Dirty Youth pumps through the speakers. She steps over the toy, planting her cute black-painted toes on either side of the frame, and lowers herself until the tip presses against her.
She rocks in short thrusts until the thick base works inside her.
SinEater: Oh my fucking god!
DaddyVoid: Bottom it out.
SnackPackSlut: That’s it. Take it all.
BloodMoon69: I’m not surviving this.
“Yes,” she gasps, head falling back.
We are lost, watching her on her knees, thighs spread wide as she pleasures herself with a tentacle for all her fans to see.
It isn’t just performance…it’s control, and she’s wielding it like she was born to.
The music pulses under her moans, a beat we can feel in our bones.
She rocks her hips forward and back, testing how much she can take before she has to breathe through it. Her thighs flex and her toes curl.
Every bounce draws a sharper sound from her throat, her lips parting just enough to show the edge of her teeth when she gasps. She’s wet enough that the toy glistens each time she rises, the thick suctioned base rocking just slightly with the force she’s using to drive herself down.
Her VCH catches the light every time she moves, a flash of silver in the slick between her folds. I can see the way it tugs when she grinds in small circles, chasing more pressure, teasing herself with the drag of the piercing over the ridged silicone.
The chat on the side of the feed is a mess of filth and pleading.
None of it matters. My brothers aren’t talking.
Garron hasn’t moved. Corwin’s breathing heavier than he should be.
And me, I’m fighting the urge to lean forward, to close the distance between me and the screen like I could step right through it.
She speeds up, bouncing harder now, until the noise of her skin hitting the toy is loud enough to punch through the music.
Her breath gets ragged. She drags a hand up her stomach to her breasts, squeezing one hard, rolling the barbell between her fingers like she’s remembering exactly who put it there.
She slows, shivering as she lifts herself off. A thin strand of slick stretches from her to the toy before it breaks. My cock throbs at the sight.
When she comes, it’s with a sound that isn’t neat or performative. Her head tips back, her body jerks once, twice, thighs quivering as she grinds herself down on the thickest part of the toy. The sharp flex of her abdomen, the flush creeping up her chest … I’m about to come in my pants.
Then she flips her hair back and crawls forward on her hands and knees, reaching behind to drag the tentacle up from the floor.
She grips it tight, guiding the tip along her cheek before pressing it between her lips.
My hands tighten into fists, nails digging into my palms as she takes it deep enough to gag.
Her eyes flutter shut, and for a second, I picture my hand in her hair, holding her there.
Saliva runs down the silicone and drips onto the floor. She pulls back just enough to breathe, then swallows it again, slower this time, her gaze locked on the camera.
She winks, still holding our ring on her thumb, and the feed cuts to black.
CreepCreepCreep: Noooo!!!
ViceViper: I wasn’t done.
ThighHighPriestess: Bring her back.
SaintofSins: I need a cigarette.
For a second, no one moves.
“Fuck!” Corwin finally snaps, grabbing the Nintendo controller off the dresser and hurling it hard enough that the plastic explodes against the wall before clattering to the floor in pieces. His temper is a wildfire when it’s lit; fast, hot, and burning in all directions.
“You’re buying me a new controller, asshole,” Garron growls, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the blank screen.
“I need my ring back,” Corwin snaps.
I shrug, but it’s calculated, lazy on the surface. Inside, my pulse is up, not from fear, but anticipation. “Then we go and get it. Give her what she wants. We go together and we talk.”
“Talk?” Corwin’s brow lifts, but it’s not skepticism in his voice. It’s hunger. “Show her who’s behind the mask?”
Garron cuts in, always the pragmatist, though his tone’s tight. “What if she goes to the cops afterward? She knows we’ve killed two people.”
That thought should cool me off. It doesn’t. I can already see her in my mind, cornered, defiant, not looking away even with the weight of all three of us on her. I smirk. “We take her back with us and make her a deal she can’t refuse.”
It’s not a guess. I know it in my bones. My dark little soul knows she won’t need much convincing. She’s already halfway ours. She just hasn’t said it out loud yet.