Page 17 of Velka Manor

Our bedroom door slams open, and Octavia stands in the doorway, her hair and clothes dishevelled in that freshly fucked way, fury burning in her gaze. She didn’t bother to put her top back on, only dressed in her bra and skirt with those cute as fuck socks. Blood stains her delicious plush flesh and hair, making her look like a bloodthirsty angel seeking violence.

My cock hardens even more, Bastian’s grip becoming even tighter, and I lean into it. His muscles shake with restraint as he licks his lips hungrily, hope in his eyes that she’s come to beg.

Her step into the room falters for a second, her gaze finding us and taking in the scene. For a second, the fight leaves her eyes, and worry filters into my stomach, but she soon shakes her head, squeezing her eyes closed for a second before she marches forward.

Bastian lets go of my throat, and I suck in a deep breath. He stands up straight, bouncing on the balls of his feet witheagerness. I opt for the opposite, reclining back in the armchair, picking up my book again, pretending to read.

“Come to beg so soon? That didn’t take you long.”

Bastian hisses at me the same time she does, fuelled by anger, and I’m their target. It’s adorable, like two pissed off kittens.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Rian,” she snaps, using the nickname she always called me as a child. I let her believe the name annoyed me, but I’ve always enjoyed it when she was angry, her darkness bubbling under the surface.

Our little angel has been slowly filling with poison to be just like us. I ensured it. When she gives in to her anger and lets it out, she can be just as vicious as us. My little sister shows it now, as quick as lightning, by throwing my book across the room and holding a carving knife to my throat.

Bastian takes a step forward—either to help me or to help her, I’m not sure which—but I hold up my hand to halt him. “It’s okay. Octavia is all hiss and no bite. I’m fine.”

Octavia’s hand shakes, her pupils blown, a deep dark need for vengeance taking over. It looks so delicious. My dick throbs in my trousers, my bare chest begging her to slice me. And she does.

The knife presses harder against my skin, so sharp that it cuts like butter, and I feel my blood slipping down it.

“How’s that for all hiss?” she whispers in my face, her lips so close to mine. I push myself onto the knife, cutting deeper so I can bite her bottom lip, dragging it into my mouth for a taste of her fury.

She hisses, grabbing the top of my hair with her free hand, yanking my head back, pulling her lip free, but she doesn’t press the knife harder.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She shakes my head, moving the knife and slashing me across my chest. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me after going back on your promises, threatening tomarry me off like a prized cow. I’m not an item to be sold. I will never be sent away or removed ever again, even by you,” she snarls, her upper lip curling.

I cock my head, running my gaze over her body, drinking her in. “And what will you do about it if I decide that’s what’s best?”

I stand, towering over her, watching as she takes a small step back. “Tell me, Octavia. What will you do?” I whisper.

She doesn’t think, not even for a second, and slams the knife into my thigh, twisting it.

“I will slaughter any fucker in this castle who tries to send me away,” she whispers, pure, unhinged madness sparkling in her eyes.

There she is.

I grunt as she twists the knife in my thigh one more time before letting go, storming out the way she came, the stomp of her shoes booming with each step.

“Oh, and I also want a credit card and a laptop so I can order my own fucking clothes for once,” she shouts over her shoulder before gripping the door and slamming it.

I fall back in my chair as she leaves with that last demand, laughing with joy. Bastian stands with his mouth hanging open, his head swivelling to the door and back to me.

“That, dear brother, is why I threatened her with the marriage.”

She needed a little more pushing, that was all, and look at what a glorious outcome we got. Bastian’s stunned expression morphs into a more sinister one, the wires in his brain connecting. She will never fully accept her wants and needs if we’re always shielding her fromourdarkness. She thinks she has seen it all, but she has no idea. She doesn’t need to be protected from it; she needs to be lured in and consumed by it, to embrace it on her own. My way isn’t gentle; I’m not her knight in shining armourprotecting her from all the bad things. Iamthe bad thing, and I will feed my soul into her until she is as damned as us.

“You twisted bastard. I could fucking kiss you.” Bastian smirks, eyeing the knife in my leg, cocking his head. “How hard are you right now?”

I groan, grabbing my cock in a strangled grip. “Painfully.”

I slip my trousers down my ass carefully to avoid the knife still sticking out of my leg so it doesn’t pull out. She didn’t hit anything serious; we taught her all the places to stab a body, so she knew what she was doing. I will need to get it stitched up soon, but first, I need to take care of my throbbing need.

“Spit,” I order, needing the warped feeling of my brother’s saliva running down my cock before I come from our little sister stabbing me.

Bastian grins, sauntering over, towering above, letting his spit trickle down onto my wanting cock. I moan as it hits, my head falling back as I rub it around my shaft. He stays above me the entire time, his eyes fixated on my movements, his own cock hard. He takes hold of the knife, and I growl, working my hand faster. He twists it just like she did, leaning forward.

“I can’t wait to watch our little sister on her hands and knees, begging us to fuck her,” he whispers, “her body covered in blood after she’s slaughtered our father.”

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