Page 14 of Velka Manor

“Big br-”

A throat clears, interrupting us. I tug my head away from Dorian, ripping it from his grip and try to scoot my body away from him in the chair.

“Sir,” a male voice calls.

Dorian’s eyes turn murderous, the control he always holds slipping away. His muscles shake as he holds himself in place, towering above me, watching with a snarl as I look away from him. This side of him doesn’t frighten me. I’ve seen him losecontrol only a few times, but it never scares me. No, it intoxicates me.

“What?” Dorian answers in a calm voice that doesn’t betray the rage simmering below the surface.

The butler clears his throat again, obviously nervous. He should be. A rage-filled Dorian speaking calmly is never a good thing. Bastian would have bashed the guy’s head against a wall for interrupting him, or possibly just yelled until he made the person piss themselves, but Dorian will hold onto this. He will wait until you think it’s safe, formulating the perfect revenge for the slight he perceived, and then he will act.

“The…uh… Dinner is about to be served, sir. I was told you wanted to be notified and fetched as soon as it was.”

Just like that, the anger flips off. He straightens up, holding out a hand for me to take, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, perfect. Of course. Thank you, Quincy.”

Quincy breathes a sigh of relief, but I cringe, grasping Dorian’s outstretched hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We walk past the butler, and he holds the door open, smiling at us. Dorian smiles back, nodding his head in thanks, but I shake mine slowly, making the butler frown with a puzzled expression. Hopefully, one of the staff warns him. Just because he was doing as instructed doesn’t mean he’s off Dorian’s list.

I wish knowing he was like this made me hate him. Sometimes, I wish knowing how brutal my brothers were could stop my feelings for them. There’s nothing morally grey about them: their souls are pitch black, shrouded in toxic darkness and stained with blood, but I’ve already been infected with their poison long ago. There’s no saving me, and if I had the choice, I wouldn’t want to be.

10

Octavia

Dorian and I don’t talk the entire way down to the dining room. He keeps my hand clasped in his the entire way, never uttering a word or looking at me. My lip is sore from the amount I’ve bitten it on the way down, wanting to say something but not sure what.

The table is already laid out as we take our assigned seats: me on my own on one side while Bastian and Dorian sit opposite, our father at the head as far away from us as he can get. Except now, it’s just me and Dorian. He’s already taking bites out of the chicken the chefs have prepared, and I’m pushing mine around the plate, my appetite non-existent.

How on Earth can I sit here and eat after what happened? How does he know that I want him, that I’ve wanted to utter the wordsbig brotherwhile he touched me? Have I been that obvious? Did Father tell him?

“Everything okay, Octavia?” Dorian asks, rudely interrupting my mental breakdown.

My cutlery crashes against the plate as I drop them, taking a big swig of wine. If Father was here, myunwomanlybehaviourwould appal him. Women in this family were only good for marrying off and breeding. God forbid we have our own minds or goals or achievements.

Dorian smirks, raising his glass of neat whiskey to his lips, amused as a trickle of red wine seeps from the side of my mouth, running down my chin. I slam the glass down, scowling back as I catch the droplet with my thumb before sucking it off. My own smirk grows seeing his grip around the glass tighten, his throat bobbing, eyes locked on my mouth.

“Is that the type of game you want to play?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, a motion I copy, but I falter as he adds, “Little sister.”

I run my tongue across my lip, contemplating. Do I take the risk? This could all be an elaborate plan of our father’s to find out if I’ve truly gotten rid of my twisted affliction. Dorian and Bastian have always protected me from him, always been on my side, but what if he disclosed to them why I left, and they felt repulsed? What if all of this is a ploy? They might cast me aside, and I could end up losing them for good.

“Really? This is the love you two show your sibling? Starting dinner and not even waiting for me!” Bastian bellows, slamming the door open.

I gasp in my seat, my hands flying to my face at the sight of him. Blood covers his bare chest and arms, across his face. I’m flying out of my chair towards him before my brain has even caught up, ploughing into his body, not caring about the sticky substance that covers him.

“Bas,” I cry, patting him down, trying to find the wound. “Are you okay? What happened?”

There’ve been plenty of times Bas stumbled into my room with one wound or another, needing to be patched up. Dorian is sprouting a fresh wound on his neck at this moment. I’ve been patching up my brothers since I was six years old, Bas more than Rian. They still have jagged scars from the botched job I used todo, but I got better, and they would have no one else do it once I started.

He wraps his arms around me, stopping me from checking on him, breathing deeply into my hair as he chuckles at my struggle.

“Seriously, Bastian. Stop fucking around and show me where you’re hurt,” I snap, stomping my foot. He always said a hug from me stops the pain, but it doesn’t stop his body from bleeding.

“Aww. Is my baby sis worried about her big brother?”

He holds me tighter, squishing my face into his blood, making me feel the wet warmth that coats him. Dorian’s chuckle reaches us, doing nothing to help at all, both of them unbothered by a possible life-threatening wound. I swear, these two are the most deranged people in the entire fucking world.

“Yes,” I seethe. “Now let me see the wound before I kick you in the dick,big brother!”

Bastian stills, and I huff a piece of hair out of my face, pulling back in relief that he’s going to let me check him, but he doesn’t let me go. The room fills with tension, bubbling over my skin, making my stomach flip and my heart pound. It’s exactly the same as it was in the office with Rian, but this time, it feels more. More alive. More dangerous. My skin prickles, and shivers run down my body.

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