30. How to surrender to two different masters.
Chapter thirty
How to surrender to two different masters...
Luka
L uka felt it before he saw it—something wrong in the air around Nick, something that made his beast recoil with instinctive dread.
Nick’s familiar scent, the concrete and vanilla that was as essential to Luka as breathing, twisted into something that made his stomach lurch.
Crushed flowers mixed with rotting earth, the sick-sweet smell of a swamp where beautiful things went to die.
It muddied everything about Nick, turning his natural warmth into something fetid and wrong.
Luka’s head snapped toward him just as Nick’s eyes went vacant, pupils fixed on something none of them could see.
“Nick?”Caleb reached toward his brother, voice tight with concern.
Nick dropped to his knees so fast his chin cracked against the table edge with a sound that made Luka flinch.
The sharp crack of bone against wood echoed through the sudden silence, followed immediately by the sight of blood welling from the split skin, trickling down to drip onto his shirt.
Nick’s teeth bit into his tongue—more blood filling his mouth, staining his lips crimson.
He didn’t react to the pain at all.
Move. Do something. Help him. But Luka found himself frozen, watching in growing terror as Nick folded himself into a position that made his beast howl with recognition and rage.
Chin bowed toward the ground, shoulders pulled back in rigid military precision, spine straight as a blade.
His legs folded beneath him in perfect perpendicular lines, ankles locked together with mechanical precision.
The blood continued to drip from his split chin, landing on the floor in small, dark spots that looked black in the club’s lighting.
Most disturbing of allwerehis arms—crossed behind his back, his hand grasping the opposite elbow in a pose that looked formal until Luka’s mind supplied what it reallywas.
The position someone’s arms would be in if theywerebound.
Restrained. Zip-tied or rope-burned until they learned to hold the position on their own.
This isn’t like the others. This is something else. Something worse.
Nick’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, completely vacant but somehow seeing something—someone—thatwasn’tthere. His breathingwascontrolled, measured, like hewaswaiting for orders that would never come from anyone in this room.
Luka’s chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing his ribcage. He’d seen Nick break down before, had held him through flashbacks and dissociation, but this was different. This was formal. Practiced. This was Nick’s body remembering how to be a good prisoner.
The silence stretched on, terrible and complete.
Luka could smell the way everyone’s scentshiftedto confusion and growing alarm.
Caleb’s mouthwashanging open, his face gone pale with shock.
Adam was white as paper, his hands starting to shake again.
Even Ophelia looked unsettled, her usual boredom replaced by fascination and revulsion.
How many times did they make him do this? How many times did he have to kneel like this, bleeding and waiting?
His beastwasclawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to do violence to whoevertaughtNick this position andhurthim so thoroughly that his body could snap into it without conscious thought.
But the people responsibleweren’there.
Therewasno one to tear apart, no threat to eliminate.
Just Nick, lost somewhere in his own mind, bleeding onto the floor.
“Nick?”Caleb whispered, the word barely audible.
No response. Nick might as well have been carved from stone, if stone could bleed and radiate the kind of terror that made the air itself feel heavy.
Luka wanted to reach for him, wanted to touch his shoulder or his face, to anchor him back to the present.
But something about Nick’s stillness warned him off.
Thiswasn’tthe kind of episode where comfort helped.
“What the fuck is he doing?”Vincent asked, leaning forward with predatory interest that made Luka’s hands clench into fists.
?He’s kneeling like he’s reporting to someone,?Matteo said.
Reporting. The word made Luka’s stomach turn. Yes, that’s exactly what this looked like. Nick kneeling in perfect position, waiting to give a briefing to his superior officers. Waiting to be questioned. Waiting to be hurt.
Luka tried to swallow past the sick feeling rising in his throat.
Another minute passed. Two. Nick remained still, blood continuing to seep from his mouth and chin, eyes locked on the floor. Waiting for orders that would never come. Or maybe orders hewashearing from people whoweren’tthere anymore.
Luka’s beastwashowling, a constant stream of rage that he could barely contain or decipher.
Ours. Hurt. Find who did this. Tear them apart.
Make them pay. But the rational part of his mind knew therewasno one to fight.
The damagewasalready done, carved so deep into Nick’s psyche that his body remembered how to surrender to two different masters without missing a beat.
“Jesus Christ,”Caleb breathed, finally moving to push the table away from Nick.“We need to get the table away from him before—”
That’s when Nick started to speak.
“Please don’t make me say it again,”Nick whispered, his voice carrying a tremor that made every vampire in the room flinch.
This wasn’t just a random flashback, it was an interrogation. And from the sound of his voice, from the desperate way he spoke to people whoweren’tthere, ithappenedmore than once.
“We need to get him out of this,”Marcus said, his voice carefully controlled, but his hands remained clenched at his sides.
“No,”Vincent said sharply, his blue eyes intent on Nick’s trembling form.“We need to listen. He might give us intelligence about—”
The suggestion that they should use Nick’s trauma, that they should sit here and catalog his pain for strategic advantage, hit Luka like a red-hot wire. His control, already strained to the breaking point, snapped.
Luka’s fist connected with Vincent’s jaw before the vampire could finish the sentence.
The impact knocked Vincent back, blood dripping from his split lip.
The violence felt good, felt right, felt like the only appropriate response to someone suggesting they should harvest intelligence from Nick’s state.
Luka’s hands moved in sharp, furious signs, his whole body radiating lethal intent.?He’s not intelligence. He’s a person in pain.?
Ophelia translated for Caleb, her voice carrying Luka’s rage.“He says Nick’s not intelligence, he’s a person in pain.”
Vincent touched his bleeding mouth, looking stunned. Good. Maybe next timehe’llthink before suggesting they exploit Nick.
“Luka’s right,”Adam whispered.“This isn’t... we can’t just listen to this.”
But Nickwasstill speaking, his voice taking on different tones, different inflections, as if hewerecycling through multiple conversations.
“It hurts,”Nick said, tears streaming down his face to mix with the blood on his chin. The words came out fractured, and Lukahadto resist the urge to cover his ears.“Shaw, it hurts, please—”
Shaw. The name hit Luka like a knife between the ribs. Nickwasreliving being hurt by Shaw, the man who commanded the Society, the man whoturnedNick into a weapon.
“Whowasthat?”The same voice, but stronger now, more confident. Like hewasasking a different question to a different interrogator.
Luka dropped to his knees beside Nick, close enough to feel the wrongness radiating from him, but not quite touching.
He could smell the terror pouring off him, the way his scent was completely alien, turned into something that spoke of violation and devastation and things that should never happen to anyone.
How do I reach him? How do I bring him back?
?Nick,?Luka signed, even though he knew Nick couldn’t see him.?You’re safe. You’re with us.?
Nick didn’t respond. His body remained locked in that terrible position, arms behind his back, chin down in submission. But his voice continued, fragments of conversations bleeding together.
”—should have let me die, it’d be better than—”The words dissolved into a sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, a sound of such profound despair that even Ophelia flinched.
What did they do to you? What did they do that made you think death would be better?
?This is fucked up,?Petrov signed to Matteo, his usually stoic expression cracked with something that might have been revulsion.
Luka wanted to snarl at him, wanted to tell him to stop watching, stop treating Nick’s breakdown like a spectacle. But he couldn’t look away either. He couldn’t stop cataloging every tremor, every tear, every damaged word that fell from Nick’s lips.
“Why are you doing this?”Nick asked the empty air, his voice small and scared, younger somehow.“Iwasgood. I followed all the orders. I killed who you told me to kill.”
Caleb made a wounded sound, his hand covering his mouth as if he could stop the words from reaching him. Marcuswaswatching with the careful attention of someone cataloging information, but his amber eyesweresoft with something that looked like grief.
“Shaw, please don’t make me repeat it again, I can feel—”Nick’s voice changed mid-sentence, becoming smaller, more submissive.“I know you love me. Thank you.”
The gratitude in those last wordswasthe most devastating thing Lukahadever heard. Nick thanking someone for hurting him, grateful for abuse disguised as affection. Someone destroyed him andmadehim thankful for the destruction.
Luka’s hands moved toward Nick’s shoulder, desperate to pull him back from wherever his mindhadgone.
?What the fuck do we do??Luka wanted to scream the words, but his hands could only form the signs, shaking with suppressed emotion.
Ophelia translated his desperate question for Caleb, and the silence that followedwasanswer enough. They didn’t know. None of them knew how to reach someone whohadbeen damaged this thoroughly, conditioned this completely.
He couldn’t sit helpless while the man he loved folded himself smaller and smaller until therewasnothing left.
“Nick!”Luka forced the word through his damaged throat, ignoring the agony that followed.“Nick, s-safe! With me. S-safe!”
His voice came out as a rasp, fractured and painful, but it was everything hehad. Every syllable felt like spewing glass fragments, but he pushed through the pain because Nick needed to hear him, needed something to anchor him back to the present.
But Nick’s hand continued its slide toward his knee, his body beginning to curl smaller, the military precision giving way to something that looked like a child trying to disappear.
His voice—the thing he sacrificedso much to protect, the thing he used so rarely because every word cost him—itwasn’tenough. Nick couldn’t hear him, trapped too deep in memories thatshapedhim into someone who knew exactly how to surrender.
“Nothing’s working,”Caleb said, his voice tight with panic that echoed Luka’s own growing desperation.“He’s not hearing us.”
“Owen, why—”Nick’s voice shattered completely, dissolving into a keening sound thatwasn’tquite human.
Vincent started to lean forward again, his expression intent, and Luka felt his control snap for the second time.
This time itwasMarcus who reached across the space between them, grabbing Vincent by the front of his shirt and hauling him up until theywereface to face.
“If you suggest using his trauma for intelligence one more time,”Marcus said, his voice deadly quiet,“I will personally ensure you spend the next decade chained in our basement. Are we clear?”
Vincent’s eyes went wide, some of the cold calculation leaving his expression.“I just thought—”
“Don’t think,”Marcus snapped, releasing him with enough force to send him stumbling backward.“Not about this.”
Luka felt a surge of gratitude toward Marcus that almost overwhelmed him. At least someone else understood that Nickwasn’ta resource to be mined for information. Hewasa person, wounded and hurting and lost somewhere in his own mind.
Nick’s breathingwasbecoming rapid and shallow, his entire body starting to shake as whatever memoryhadhim trapped continued to play out behind his eyes. Luka could smell the fear pouring off him in waves, could see the way his shoulders trembled with the effort of holding position.
“He’s hyperventilating,”Caleb said, moving like he wanted to help but not knowing how.
Luka knew how Caleb felt. The helplessnesswaseating him alive, the knowledge that Nickwasright there but unreachable.He’dfoundNick in the junkyard and pulledhim back from death. But this—thiswasbeyond his abilities. This required expertise he didn’t have.
“We need professional help,”Marcus said, pulling out his phone.“I’m calling Matoskah.”
Luka stayed frozen beside Nick, his beast howling with frustrated rage, watching as the man hewasfalling in love with came apart in front of him.
I’m supposed to protect him. I’m supposed to keep him safe. And I can’t even reach him.
The failure burned in his chest like acid. He couldn’t punch trauma in the face or sign it into submission. He could only kneel and watch as Nick relived the worst moments of his life in front of people who cared about him but couldn’t help.
“P-please,” Luka whispered. “C-come back.”
Therewasnothing any of them could do but watch and wait for help to arrive, hoping that when it came, there would still be enough of Nick left to save.