Chapter Nine #2
My lion snarled, a sound of pure outrage that vibrated through my chest.
“You’ve changed,” the nightmare continued, its voice dropping to something almost intimate.
“The lion has remade you. That soft, gentle boy who used to cry over other people’s pain, he’s becoming something new.
Something harder. Something with teeth.” It tilted Damon’s head at an angle that wasn’t natural.
“The only way your dear brother will ever understand the new you is if he changes too. If he embraces what I offer instead of fighting it. Because the human side of him? That caring, protective man who used to hold your hand in the dark?” The smile turned cruel.
“He’s too soft to look at you and not see the blood on your hands.
The stain on your soul. He’ll never look at you the same way again. ”
Something broke inside me.
Not apart. Not the way the nightmare wanted. Something broke open.
I moved without thinking. My hand closed around Damon’s throat, and I slammed him back against the wall hard enough to rattle the chains. The nightmare’s eyes went wide.
My lion surged to the surface. I could feel the change rippling through me, my muscles swelling, my teeth lengthening into fangs that pressed against the inside of my lips.
The urge to bite was overwhelming. Primal.
I could do it right now. Sink my teeth into my brother’s flesh and force the shift.
Give him a beast of his own that would tear this parasite apart from the inside.
Take his choice away. End this.
The thought was so tempting it terrified me.
I looked at my hand on Damon’s throat. At the claws that had extended from my fingertips, dimpling the skin. At the nightmare wearing my brother’s face.
Then I let go.
I stumbled back, horror flooding through me like ice water. My hands were shaking, my claws retracting as the lion retreated, and all I could feel was the sick twist of realising how close I’d come to doing something unforgivable.
The nightmare laughed. A breathless, rattling sound that echoed off the walls of the hold.
“There he is,” it wheezed. “There’s the predator. The killer. How does it feel, little lion, knowing you almost...”
I stopped listening.
Because something had clicked into place. Something the nightmare had just confirmed without meaning to.
It had fought Damon to take control. It had been painful, difficult, a struggle where before it had been seamless. The nightmare was getting weaker.
And it had forced its way to the surface the moment Damon started talking about Alyssa. The moment he’d said it was afraid. It hadn’t come out to mock me. It had come out to stop Damon from talking.
A smile spread across my face.
The nightmare’s laughter died.
I crouched down in front of my brother’s possessed body and stared directly into those wrong eyes. The eyes that weren’t Damon’s. The eyes of the thing that had tortured my brother for months.
“You’re scared,” I said calmly. “You couldn’t even let him finish. You had to claw your way to the surface, and it cost you, didn’t it? Had to fight him for control when it used to be easy. All because he was talking about the one thing that terrifies you.”
The nightmare’s expression flickered.
“Enjoy mocking me while you can.” My voice was steady now.
Sure. “Your time is growing short. You should give up and leave Damon while you still can. Because if you force Alyssa to tear you out of my brother, she’s going to make sure that you end your existence in agony.
” I leaned closer, letting the lion show in my eyes.
Not the rage. The patience. The predator who could wait as long as it took.
“And I’m going to enjoy watching every single second of it. ”
The nightmare said nothing. Its jaw worked, but no sound came out.
“Then, when this is all over,” I added softly, “I’m going to hunt down every last one of your kind and make sure I wipe you from the face of this realm. You chose the wrong man to infect. And now you’re going to be the reason that the nightmares finally come to an end.”
I stood. Looked down at the thing wearing my brother’s face.
The mockery was gone. The theatrical cruelty, the confidence, the laughter. What stared back at me was something wary. Something uncertain. Something that was starting to realise it might not win.
I turned my back on it and climbed the ladder without looking down.
My hands were still shaking when I reached the corridor. I pressed my back against the wall and stood there in the dim light, breathing hard, staring at the faint marks my claws had left on my own palms from clenching my fists too tight.
I’d almost lost control. Almost taken Damon’s choice away because I was angry and scared and desperate. Almost became exactly what the nightmare accused me of being.
But I hadn’t.
And the nightmare was afraid.
I let that truth settle into my bones. Let it fill the space where the guilt had been rotting, not replacing it entirely but giving it something to exist alongside. Something that felt a lot like hope.
Then I wiped my eyes, pushed off the wall, and went to find my mate.