22. Lilian
Lilian
M y heart stops when I see him.
Aries. My Aries. But not as I’ve ever seen him before.
His usually perfect hair sticks up, unwashed and unkempt. His face, now covered with a soft beard, is gaunt, cheekbones stretched and sharp beneath pale skin. The simple sweats he wears hang loosely on his frame.
None of those things, though, hurt me as much as his eyes. Those eyes that always held careful distance now burn with a desperate intensity I’ve never seen before.
“Aries,” I whisper, my palm pressing against the glass.
Behind me, Arson watches. I can feel his presence like a physical weight, the tension in his body as he observes us.
For a moment, he says nothing, allowing me this moment of connection.
I step closer to the glass, drinking in every detail of my stepbrother’s imprisonment. Despite everything—his condition, the cell, the circumstances—he still carries himself with that innate Hayes dignity. Still stands straight-backed and proud, even in captivity.
“Are you okay?” I mouth the words, unsure if he can hear me.
Aries moves closer to the glass, his hand coming up to mirror mine on the other side. For years, I’ve imagined touching him like this, our hands aligned, nothing between us at all. The irony isn’t lost on me that it takes his imprisonment to create this moment of intimacy. Something passes between us in that silent connection—years of unspoken feelings, of careful distance maintained, of boundaries respected.
His eyes say everything his voice cannot: concern, fear, confusion.
I feel Arson shift behind me, a subtle movement that radiates displeasure. Jealousy, perhaps. The air thickens with tension as the three of us form a triangle of complicated emotions—my long-held love for Aries warring with this new, dangerous attraction to his twin.
“Touching,” Arson’s voice breaks the silence, edged with something dangerous. “The princess finally gets to see her prince. Though I’m afraid he’s not quite so charming these days.”
I ignore him, maintaining eye contact with Aries. His gaze shifts briefly to his brother, then back to me. A warning flashes there—be careful, tread lightly, he’s dangerous.
As if I need the reminder when every nerve in my body is already aware of Arson’s predatory presence behind me. The man who imprisoned my stepbrother. The man whose bed I just left. God help me, I want them both.
“Let him go.” I turn from the glass to face Arson, voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Please. You’ve made your point.”
Arson studies me, head tilted slightly like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “My point?”
“That you can take everything from him. That you have the power.” I step closer, using the connection I know exists between us. “But this—keeping him like an animal—it makes you just like them. The ones who locked you away.” Something flickers in his eyes—a nerve struck. “You’re better than this,” I continue, keeping my voice gentle. “Better than them. You can protect me and continue with your plans against the family without turning into the monster they tried to make you.” My hand reaches for his arm, fingers tentative on his sleeve. “Please, Arson. Show me you’re different.”
For a moment—just a heartbeat—I think I’ve reached him. His expression softens infinitesimally, his body leaning toward mine as if drawn by gravity.
Then the mask slides back into place.
“No.” The word falls like a stone between us.
“But—”
“I said no.” His voice remains calm, controlled. “Aries stays exactly where he is. He’s lucky I feed him and keep him alive. That’s more mercy than they showed me.”
“This isn’t about mercy,” I argue. “It’s about not becoming what you hate.”
“This is about survival.” He catches my hand, removing it from his arm with deliberate care. “I’ll protect you, Lilian. Keep you safe from them. But my plans for him remain unchanged.”
Behind us, Aries shifts closer to the glass, watching our interaction with narrowed eyes.
“He’s suffered enough,” I try again. “Look at him. He’s learned whatever lesson you wanted to teach.”
“Lesson?” Arson laughs, the sound echoing harshly in the concrete corridor. “This isn’t a teachable moment, Little Sister. This is justice. Consequence. Balance.”
“It’s cruel.”
“Yes.” His honesty catches me off guard. “It is. Just like what was done to me. The difference is, I’m honest about my intentions.”
I search his face, looking for any crack in his resolve. “I thought I meant something to you. That night in the garden?—”
“Are you really that naive, to think one little kiss, one little temptation is going to make me forget all my plans. I want your cunt. I’ve told you that many times.” His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture jarringly tender in opposition to his words. “Which is why you’re up there, in my bed, and not down here in a cell. But don’t mistake my protection for weakness. Don’t think because I want you, I’ll abandon what I’ve planned for years.”
The casual mention of his want makes heat curl low in my belly, despite everything. I hate my body’s response, hate how even now, standing before Aries’s prison, I can feel myself responding to Arson’s proximity.
“There has to be another way,” I whisper, but I can already see in his eyes that he won’t bend. Not on this. “Let me visit him, then.” The words tumble out as I search for compromise. “Supervised. Controlled. You can be there the whole time.”
Arson shakes his head, unmoved.
“What about limited contact? Just...let him know I’m okay. That I’m here willingly.” I press closer, using my body as leverage. “Or let me bring him better food. Clean clothes. Anything.”
“You think I care about his comfort?” His eyebrow arches. “After what he did? After he stood by and watched them take me away?”
“Then let me share his punishment.” Desperation makes me reckless. “Put me in there with him.”
That gets a reaction—a dark flash in Arson’s eyes. “You want to be locked up with him? Is that it? The two of you playing house in captivity?”
“No, I just?—”
“Just what?” His voice drops dangerously. “Do you just want to comfort him? Console him? How exactly were you planning to ease his suffering, Lilian?”
The innuendo hangs heavy between us, making my cheeks burn. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” He steps closer, towering over me. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How you’ve always looked at him. The stepbrother you couldn’t have. The golden boy who kept you at arm’s length.”
I start to deny it, but what’s the point? He already knows my secrets.
“Please.” My voice breaks slightly. “If you feel anything for me at all?—”
A sudden bang interrupts us. Aries slams his palm against the glass, making us both turn.
“Stop it!” His voice is muffled through the barrier, but his fury is clear. “Leave her alone!”
He’s not looking at me—his attention is fixed entirely on his brother. His hands press against the glass, knuckles white with tension.
“Let me go, Arson.” Each word is precise, controlled despite his obvious rage. “This is between us. Always has been. She has nothing to do with it.”
Arson’s mouth curves in a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But she does now, doesn’t she? Thanks to you. If you hadn’t kept her at a distance, if you hadn’t made her so hungry for attention, she wouldn’t be so...responsive to mine.”
Aries pounds the glass again, harder this time.
I watch them—identical faces twisted with identical rage, mirror images of fury. The twin connection between them crackles like electricity, even through hatred.
“Stop it, both of you.” I step between them, though the glass separates us. “This isn’t helping anything.”
Arson’s eyes never leave his brother’s face. “Oh, I think it’s helping quite a bit. Don’t you want to hear what your precious stepbrother has to say, Lilian?”
His hand moves to a control panel on the wall, fingers hovering over a switch.
“Let’s all have a nice family chat, shall we?”
Arson flips the switch with a theatrical flourish. A light above the window turns green, and suddenly, Aries’s voice fills the corridor.
“—swear to God when I get out of here—” He stops abruptly, realizing we can hear him now. His eyes lock on mine. “Lilian?”
“I’m here.” My voice sounds small even to my own ears. “I’m okay.”
Arson leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching our interaction with predatory interest. “Isn’t this cozy? The family reunion you wanted, Little Sister. Though perhaps not quite as you imagined it.”
I ignore him, moving closer to the glass again. Now that I can speak to Aries directly, I drink in every detail of him—the weight loss, the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.
“What did he do to you?” Aries asks, gaze traveling over me as if checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
“Nothing.” I press my hand to the glass again. “I’m fine. I came willingly.”
His expression hardens. “Willingly? Lil, he’s dangerous. Whatever he’s told you, whatever he’s promised?—”
“I know exactly what he is.” Our eyes hold, communicating more than words could. Years of silent watching, of careful distance, have made me fluent in Aries’s unspoken language. “I found Mother’s files. I know what they did to him. To others.”
Shock crosses his features. “You shouldn’t be involved in this.”
“I already am.” My fingers trace patterns on the glass, wishing I could touch him. “I have been since the night I saw you in here.”
“How touching,” Arson interjects, voice dripping with mock sentiment. “The star-crossed siblings, separated by glass and circumstance. Tell me, Brother, does it hurt to see her caring so much? After all your careful distance?”
Aries ignores him, focused entirely on me. “Listen to me. Whatever he’s planning, whatever revenge he wants—you need to get away. These men backing him, they’re dangerous. More dangerous than you know.”
My pulse quickens. “You know about them? The men in suits?”
“They’re why he’s doing this.” Aries’s eyes flick briefly to his brother. “Ask him what happens when his usefulness ends. Ask him about the others they’ve used and discarded. They tried to get to me too, and I know if Arson dragged you here to stay it’s because they must be sniffing around you too.”
Arson pushes off the wall, but something flashes in his eyes as he moves toward me with fluid grace. “That’s enough family therapy for one day, I think.”
I’m transfixed by Aries’s gaze, by the concern there—not just for himself, but for me. For his brother, too, though he’d never admit it.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him, not knowing if it’s true. “I’m going to fix this.”
“Lilian, don’t—” Aries starts, but I’ll never know what warning he meant to give because Arson wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest and away from the glass while deactivating the intercom.
“I said that’s enough.”
“Let go of me!” I twist in his grip, nails digging into his forearm.
“Stop fighting.” His voice carries a warning, but I’m beyond caution now.
I struggle harder, watching Aries press against the glass, his face twisted with helpless rage. “Let me talk to him! You can’t just?—”
“I can do whatever I want.” Arson’s grip tightens painfully. “This is my house. My rules. My game.”
My elbow connects with his ribs—a lucky shot that makes him grunt but doesn’t loosen his hold. If anything, he pulls me tighter against him, one arm like a band across my chest, the other circling my waist.
“Arson, please.” I try another approach, letting my body go softer in his arms. “Just a few more minutes. Then we can go back upstairs. Just let me?—”
“No.” His lips brush my ear as he speaks. “You’ve had your reunion. Satisfied your curiosity. Now we’re done.”
Behind the glass, Aries slams his palm against the barrier, mouth moving in what must be shouting, though the speaker is now silent.
“Look at him!” I struggle again, desperate to return to the connection we’d established. “Look what you’re doing to him!”
“I see exactly what I’m doing.” There’s a dark satisfaction in Arson’s voice. “I see him watching something he wants but can’t have. Feeling helpless. Powerless. Just like I felt for ten years.”
Gradually, my struggles slow. Not from surrender, but from the realization that I’m accomplishing nothing except giving Aries a show of my helplessness.
Arson feels the change, his hold gentling slightly, though growing no less secure.
“Smart girl,” he murmurs against my hair. “Fighting just makes it worse for everyone.”
My breath comes in sharp gasps, heart pounding against my ribs—from exertion, from fear, from something else I don’t want to name. Arson’s body curved around mine feels both like a cage and a shelter.
“I hate you for this,” I whisper, though my body betrays me by leaning back into his warmth.
“No.” His voice holds dark certainty. “You hate yourself for wanting both of us. For being here in my arms while he watches. For the way your core tightens, and the desire that fills your veins every time I touch you.”
His words hit with uncomfortable accuracy. I close my eyes because I’m unable to face Aries while acknowledging such a truth.
“Let me go,” I say again, but the fight has drained from me.
“Never.” There’s no yield in his voice. It’s a promise and a threat, breathed against my skin like a kiss.
“What would you do for him?” Arson’s lips brush my ear, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. “How far would you go to set him free?”
The question hangs between us, heavy with implication. Behind the glass, Aries watches with helpless fury, unable to hear what’s being said.
“What do you mean?” My voice catches as Arson’s hand slides up to rest just beneath my breast.
“What if I were interested in a trade?” he murmurs, fingers tracing idle patterns over my ribs. “Your stepbrother’s freedom...for you. ”
My heart stutters. “Me?”
“Yes. For your complete submission.” His other hand splays across my stomach, warm through the thin fabric of my shirt. “No resistance, games, or holding back.” Heat spirals inside my core despite the circumstances, despite Aries watching our every move.
“That’s not a trade. It’s blackmail,” I whisper.
“It’s a negotiation.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “Isn’t that what you wanted? A way to help him? Is this not me giving you an option?”
“Why now? I’ve been offering you this very thing, and you keep pushing me away, just like he did.” I let the words fade.
I can’t believe I said that out loud. Admitted to Arson again how much Aries hurt me. What if… Hope blooms in my chest, but fades to fear the longer I think about it.
What if it’s a trap? Arson knows how much I want to help Aries. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that there is more to this. No way would he release him so easily.
Across the room, I meet Aries’s gaze. My heart aches for him. Desperation oozes from his body, as he strains against the barrier that separates us, watching Arson’s hands on my body with murderous, possessive fury.
“You’d really let him go?” I ask, hating the hope that fills my voice.
Arson’s hand slides higher, thumb brushing the underside of my breast in a touch that’s barely there but sends ripples of electricity across my skin. “For the right price.”
The implication makes me shiver. “And what’s the price?”
“All of you.” His voice darkens with promise. “I want you. Every single inch. For as long as I choose, to do whatever I want with.”
To demonstrate, his hand moves fully to my breast, cupping it possessively while Aries watches. His touch makes me gasp, and my body hums with life even though I know it’s him and not Aries who is touching me.
“Stop,” I whisper, but don’t pull away.
“Weird. You say stop, but your body says keep going.” His thumb circles my nipple through my shirt, the tip becoming a stiff peak. He has a way of making my body turn on itself.
“Look at him. Do you see the anger in his eyes? The self-hatred?” My eyes find Aries again. His face is a mask of rage and something else—hurt, betrayal, or perhaps, worst of all, arousal. I’m reminded then that the same blood runs in their veins. The same desires.
“I see him,” I whisper.
“Good, and you feel this.” Arson’s hand slides down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my jeans. “He never touched you like this, did he? Never let himself take what he wanted.” He shakes his head. “So noble. So controlled.” His fingers dip lower, and my breath catches. Do I tell him to stop or urge him to keep going? “There aren’t many differences between my brother and me, but there is when it comes to you. Where you’re concerned, I have no such limitations. No moral high ground. Just a raw hunger and the will to satisfy it.”
My entire body ripples with pleasure. What is wrong with me? I should be disgusted by this manipulation, this use of my body as a weapon against Aries. But God help me, the heat of Arson’s touch, the forbidden thrill of being caught between twin desires—it’s intoxicating.
“Think about it,” Arson whispers, lips brushing my temple in what might be the first show of tenderness I’ve ever seen him display. “Your body, and complete submission, for his freedom. Seems like a fair trade.”
Then, as if the conversation and his touch were nothing but a dream, he releases me and steps away. The loss of contact leaves me swaying, burning with confused desire.
“Anyway, the family reunion is over,” he says, voice returning to normal volume. “Say goodbye to your stepbrother. We still have the matter of how I plan to punish you for disobeying me.”