12. Pain is how we learn.
Chapter twelve
Pain is how we learn...
Nick
N ick pressed himself further beneath the breakfast nook table, his knees digging into the hardwood floor. The enclosed space felt both too exposed and not confined enough. He fought to keep his hand on his thigh rather than tucking it beneath his knee in the position that still felt like safety.
The scent of blood clung to their clothes—dark stains from the garage. With each breath, the metallic smell grew stronger, dragging him backward.
Caleb’s screams.
The memory hit without warning.
His brother’s voice echoed inside his skull, distant yet crystal clear. The sound belonged with the hunter, not with the shattered self thatcurrentlydominated his consciousness. But the memory pushed throughanyway, brutal and unavoidable.
Don’t breathe so loud. They’ll hear you. They’ll find you.
Nick made himself smaller, shoulders hunching as he tried to disappear into the corner where the cabinet met the wall.
The tremors started in his fingers, traveling up his arm and spreading across his chest. His missing hand throbbed with phantom pain, fingers that nolongerexisted clenching into a fist he couldn’t control.
Be quiet. Be still. Be nothing.
The drive had been too long, the space too confined.
Trapped between Luka and the vampire with white braids with no escape route, no way to run.
Ophelia Graves behind the wheel—Marcus Graves’s adopted human daughter, dangerous according to Society intelligence.
The walls of the van had seemed to shrink with each passing mile, oxygen thinning until his lungs burned with the effort to breathesilently.
The blood smell grew stronger, dragging him deeper into memory. Caleb’s screams grew louder, more immediate. Nick could almost feel the weight of his brother’s head in his hands, holding him still while Henderson—
“Keep him steady, Nicholas. This is for his own good.”
The sound of pliers closing around Caleb’s molar. The resistance as Henderson twisted, the sickening crack of a tooth ripping free. Blood pouring over Nick’s fingers as he held his brother’s head immobile.
“He’ll tell us where the monsters are hiding now, won’t he?”
The kitchen wavered around him, reality bending at the edges. Nick pressed his forehead against the cool floor, trying to ground himself as the room spun.
“Kitten, turn around.”
Not real. Not here. Fight it.
His lungs seized as fragments of memory crashed through his defenses. The feeding session. Four months into his captivity. Gianmarco’s mouth at his wrist.
“You’re so good for me, kitten.” Gianmarco’s voice echoed through time, silky and possessive.
Nick learned to endure the feedings. If he didn’t move or fight, they didn’t hurt as much. But that day was different. He was handcuffed to the headboard. One hand held his chin in place, the other slid down his chest, fingers trailing lower with deliberate intent.
When that cold hand drifted further down between his legs, something primal tore through the place he’d hide in his head. Pure panic flooded his system. Before conscious thought could intervene, his teeth sunk into the flesh between Gianmarco’s thumb and forefinger.
The taste of vampire blood—coppery but somehow sweeter, thicker than human blood—filled his mouth. Gianmarco’s hiss of surprise pierced through the feeding haze.
Nick fought the memory, pressing his forehead harder against the kitchen floor. Not now. Please not now.
But the past pulled him under.
Gianmarco’s facetransformed in an instant—shock giving way to a controlled, terrifying rage. He withdrew from Nick’s wrist with deliberate slowness, blood trickling from the wound on his hand.
“What was that, Nicholas?”His voice remainedperfectlylevel—the calm before a devastating storm.
Nick’s heart hammered against his ribs as reality crashed back. The euphoria of his mental hiding place evaporated, replaced by cold, paralyzing fear.“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”
Gianmarco examined the bite mark, turning his hand in the light as if studying amildlyinteresting specimen.“You bit me.”He sounded almost curious.
“Please,”Nick whispered, terror rising as he recognized the dangerous stillness in Gianmarco’s posture.“It was an accident.”
“No, kitten. That was a choice.”Gianmarco’s fingers gripped Nick’s jaw with bruising force.“And choices have consequences.”
Gianmarco’s other hand moved to Nick’s mouth, thumb pressing against his lower lip.“Open.”
Nick hesitated, terror freezing him in place.
“Open your mouth, Nicholas.”The command left no room for disobedience.
Nick’s lips parted, trembling. Gianmarco’s thumb slipped between his teeth, pressing his mouth wider. The vampire’s expression remainedeerilyserene as his other hand reached for a small leather case on the bedside table.
“You seem to have forgotten your place.”Gianmarco opened the case one-handed, revealing gleaming dental tools.“Perhaps we should remove what you don’t know how to useproperly.”
Nick thrashed against the restraints holding him to the bed, panic overwhelming his training to stay still during punishment. Gianmarco watched, waiting for the futile struggle to exhaust itself.
When Nickfinallycollapsed back against the pillows, chest heaving, Gianmarco selected a pair of pliers from the case.
“Which one should we start with?”he askedconversationally, as if discussing dinner options.“I think a molar. Less noticeable, but the lesson will be... memorable.”
The cold metal of the pliers slid into Nick’s mouth, scraping against his teeth as Gianmarco positioned the instrument. The vampire’s grip tightened on his jaw, preventing any movement.
“This will hurt,”Gianmarco said, almosttenderly.“But pain is how we learn, isn’t it?”
The pliers closed around a lower left molar. The pressure builtinexorably. Nick’s eyes widened as panic gave way to a new level of terror.
“Please—”The word was garbled around the metal instrument.
The pliers twisted. Pain exploded through Nick’s jaw as roots tore from bone. Blood flooded his mouth, hot and metallic. A scream tore from his throat, muffled by Gianmarco’s hand.
“One more, I think.”Gianmarco’s voice remained calm as he examined the bloody tooth before discarding it.“To ensure the lesson sticks.”
The pliers returned, finding another molar. The second extraction was worse—nerve endings already inflamed, jaw already traumatized. Nick’s vision whited out as pain overwhelmed his consciousness. He came back to the feeling of blood pouring down his chin.
Gianmarco set the pliers aside, studying Nick’s tear-streaked face with clinical detachment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned forward and lapped at the blood pooling in Nick’s open mouth. The gesture was obscene, a perverse parody of a kiss that left Nick shuddering with revulsion.
When he finished, Gianmarco’s expression hardened.“You won’t do that again.”
Nick shook his head, unable to speak through the blood and pain.
Gianmarco’s demeanor shiftedsuddenly, anger giving way to something calm and gentle. He released Nick’s restraints, gathering his trembling body against his chest. Cool fingers stroked through Nick’s hair as he cradled him like a child.
“Shhh, it’s over now,”Gianmarco murmured.“You took your punishment so well.”
Nick curled into the comfort despite the horror still coursing through him. Tears mixed with blood as he pressed his face against Gianmarco’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,”he sobbed, words slurred through his damaged mouth.“I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”
“I know you will,”Gianmarco soothed, continuing the gentle stroking.“You’re learning.”
The memory wavered, then cracked.
Weight against his chest—real, present, warm. Nick’s eyes opened to find Luka crouched in front of him, one hand resting over his heart.
Luka demonstrated taking a deep breath through his nose and releasing it through his mouth, his jade eyes patient and calm.
Nick’s breathing slowed as he focused on Luka’s hand against his chest. The weight was perfect—heavy enough to feel secure, light enough not to trigger panic.
He became aware of the cool kitchen floor beneath him, the distant sound of a refrigerator humming, the faint scent of dust and abandoned spaces.
“I’ll be good,”Nick whispered, the words strangled.
Luka’s expression shifted—not disappointment or anger, but something that looked almost like pain. His brow pinched, lower lip drawing inward as if bitten.
You’ve upset him. Look away. Ask for forgiveness.
Luka’s hands moved with deliberate slowness, crossing at the wrists in front of his chest before extending outward. He mouthed a word Nick recognized:‘ safe’ . The vampire pointed at Nick and repeated the gesture, his expression earnest.
You’re safe.
The meaning registeredclearly, cutting through the fog of memory and pain. The hunter, distant now but never gone, stirred in response.
Never safe with a monster —
He hasn’t hurt us.
His muscles ached from maintaining the cramped position beneath the table. The kitchen floorleft indentations in his knees, and his neck throbbed from being held at such an awkward angle. Nick studied Luka’s face, searching for deception or manipulation, but finding only patient concern.
Luka remained still, waiting for Nick to make the first move.
Nickslowlyuncurled from his defensive position, joints popping as he shifted.
He placed his palm against the cool floor for balance, using it to push himself up and out from beneath the table.
Each movement felt like navigating a minefield—deliberate, careful, ready to retreat at the first sign of danger.
As Nick emerged, Luka took three careful steps backward, creating space without turning away. He made the gesture again, this time a small smile forming on his lips.
“S-safe,” Nick echoed.