25. Octavia
25
Octavia
I lay in between Dorian and Bastian with my eyes closed, faking being asleep, waiting until they finally drift off. They would never let me do what I want to do alone, and I don’t want them with me for this. This, I need to do by myself.
Bastian falls asleep first, snoring loudly, and Dorian follows closely behind, pulling me to him so tightly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was absorbed into his skin. I lay still for another few minutes, waiting until they’re fully under, and then shuffle down the bed out of their grasp.
I stand at the edge of the bed, watching them for a moment, laughing silently as they frown, scooting forward in their sleep until they embrace and snuggle each other. They’re so clingy in their sleep.
My hand brushes over the bandage on my leg, and I run my fingers across it, smiling. He carved Rian into my skin instead of Dorian. I guess he doesn’t hate the nickname as much as I thought, or maybe he started to like it because I called him it. Either way, it feels even more special. He carved the shape of his dick onto Bastian’s thigh and then sulked because Bas loved it. Twisted bastards.
I grab Dorian’s discarded black shirt, slipping it on for something to wear, and slip out of the room, tiptoeing so as not to wake them. The halls are empty, everything quiet. There are no staff lurking in the shadows, no beady eyes watching to report back to someone. The castle is finally silent.
I trace my fingers along the walls as I go, in no rush to get to my destination. Grandfather will leave tomorrow but will be back in a week’s time to discuss the wedding. I wonder if my wedding will come before the one he arranged that some other poor soul will end up being stuck in. I know of the Carter family; they’re almost as brutal as us, bloody and vicious, and I’m glad I will not be ending up there.
Screams echo in the distance, bouncing off the walls as I descend the stairs, going deeper into the dungeon. My feet leave the plush carpet for the cold cement, and I shiver, regretting not putting on shoes. I follow the screams, gazing into the cells as I go, seeing so many people from my past. They have got every single person who ever hurt me down here, locked up to be tortured. If I know them, it will be a long time before they let anyone have the peace of death.
A loud bang and a final scream come from the room on my left a few doors down. A sickening wet squelch has my stomach turning, and I scrunch up my nose, peering inside to see someone with their head caved in laid on the floor. The person is unrecognisable, bones, blood, and teeth splattered against a wall.
“I hope they deserved it,” I say, leaning against the door frame.
Ghost snaps his head up, wiping blood from his face, smearing it all over. “I wondered if they would let you come see me.”
I laugh, shaking my head, crossing my arms across my chest. “They would never let me come see you alone. I waited until they were asleep. They wouldn’t suspect I would seek you out after just learning that you were actually the one who contributed your sperm to my existence. It was the only time to get you alone.”
“And you wanted to speak with me alone?” he asks, grabbing a wooden chair, pushing out another from the small table at the back of the room, gesturing for me to take a seat.
I walk into the room, feeling the blood and other things I don’t want to think about between my toes, seriously regretting not putting on shoes. I grab the chair he offered, and we sit down at the same time.
“I wanted to speak with you without having to deal with those two. You’d be dead before I even got my first few questions out.”
He nods his head, huffing a laugh. “That sounds like them.”
“How did they find out you were my biological father? Did you tell them?” I ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
He grasps my chin with his bloody hands, and I lift it, clenching my jaw. “Dorian noticed first. Saw me watching you too closely. ‘You have her eyes,’ he said. I had never been more terrified of a child than when I thought he was going to blow my identity.”
He lets me go, and I rub my chin, unable to stop myself from looking at his eyes, seeing my own reflected. How have I never seen that before?
“But he didn’t. He walked away and never mentioned it again. It wasn’t until you got older, and we started to work more closely to protect you, that I told him I had been sent by Vincent to be his spy. Vincent Stone never trusted his son and wanted a more trained soldier in the manor to take care of things if the need should arise.”
“You call what you did protecting me?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “I was terrified of you when I was younger.”
He runs his hand through his hair, smearing the white-blonde with blood. “What I did was to protect you, to make you stronger. I saw so much of my sister in you. She was soft, kind, and belonged far away, but she couldn’t get away and she died because she couldn’t survive this life.”
His voice shakes, and he coughs, clearing his throat. “She took her own life because she didn’t see another way out, and I was too late to save her. I didn’t want to take the chance of making the same mistake with you.”
His hand reaches across the table and hesitantly grabs mine. I don’t hold it back, but I don’t shake him off either.
“Your mother, Lucinda, and I were just a brief fling, something to do to pass the time, and then one day she told me she was getting married to Charles Stone. I thought nothing of it, of her until your birth and her death were announced. I thought the timing odd but didn’t look too deeply into it. I didn't want to if I’m honest, but then I saw you at one of your birthday balls, you were three years old and all I saw was my sister. I knew you were mine, knew I had to protect you.”
“You never tried to take me. You never tried to get me away from this place,” I say and he hears the accusation in my tone and drops my hand like I burned him.
“Would you have gone if I tried? Would you have left them behind?” He points to the ceiling, indicating to the only two people I care about. “By the time I arrived, they were your everything. You only smiled when they were around, seeking them out even when it got you punished. You would have never left them.”
I nod, conceding that he is correct. I wouldn’t have left them, I would have put up so much of a fight to stay with them he would have been caught. Still…
“Shouldn’t that have been irrelevant? Shouldn’t you have cared enough to want more for me than a life in the bloodline, done everything you could have physically done?”
He works his jaw, avoiding my gaze, and I know I’m right.
“You did what you could while still keeping yourself safe. You toed the line of risking being banished or slaughtered by the bloodline, but you didn’t fully go over it.” He opens his mouth to either object or make an excuse, but I wave my hand, cutting him off.
“Look I get it, there’s only two people I would stick my life on the line for in this fucked up organisation. But they are also the only ones that would for me as well. I just needed to confirm that,” I say, standing up.
I’m not sure what I was hoping to get talking to him or what I even wanted, but I feel like I got it.
“I do care about you, Octavia,” he shouts, jumping to his feet, his hands planted on the table. “I…I wish I could say more. I wish…” His face scrunches up, his nostrils flaring.
“I know,” I whisper. “Maybe you’ll care about someone else one day enough to save them, but it’s okay that it wasn’t me. I never needed saving.”
I grasp the door frame, biting the bottom lip, needing to do one more thing, cause I might not need saving but he does.
“You should leave the manor,” I say, twisting to look back at him. “If they think that for a second I might come to care about you, they’re going to kill you. I wouldn’t risk staying too long.”
He nods his head over to a corner of the room near where the dead body lays and there are two duffle bags. “Already figured my time here was done. I never expected to last as long as I did. I just wanted to see you before I went.”
Ah, he was already planning on going and not sticking around. Figures.
“Take care of yourself, little mouse.”
“Goodbye, Ghost.”
I walk away, not looking back, settled in the last conversation I will have with him. I doubt I’ll ever see him again. He’ll have to lie low for a while, seeing as he betrayed the head of the bloodline, and I doubt he cares enough to risk coming back.
Coming up from the stairs, I spot Dorian and Bastian leaning against a wall in only their boxers, arms crossed, waiting for me.
“Little sister, breaking the rules again?” Dorian tuts.
“Isn’t that what little sisters do?” I smile, rushing towards them. They catch me in their grasp, holding me so tight, I know they will never let me go.
“I think we need to kill the bastard right fucking now,” Bastian growls, and I laugh, shaking my head.
Knew it.
“No,” I tell them. “He’s leaving. I had to have one last conversation with him before he left, but he’s going now, and he won’t be coming back.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Dorian asks, studying me. They cup a cheek each, making me look at them, checking to see if I’ll lie.
“I’ve never needed anyone but the two of you. My demons of Velka Manor.”
“Only yours,” Bastian whispers, pulling me between them.
“And you are only ours,” Dorian growls as they consume me in their embrace, giving me no room to breathe, move, or see any of the world outside of them.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.