Page 19 of Obsession

The power they held over her life was absolute. It was a truth Ren hadn’t had to face daily, but was now made terrifyingly clear.

She tried to move as the brothers closed in on her. She was stuck to the spot though, unable to move her feet. She closed her eyes, but found herself opening them no matter the urge to squeeze them shut further.

Huge fangs behind snarling lips, thick strands of saliva dripping to the floor from their snarling maw.

She screamed in terror as Grayson’s wings ensnared her and began to tighten around her. He was stealing the air from her lungs with each moment that passed.

When she felt her eyes bulge and tears stain her cheeks from what surely would be her death by suffocation…she woke with a shriek loud enough to wake the dead, or maybe the undead in this case.

“A dream?” she whispered softly to herself, recognizing she was in Callum’s bed.

It felt so real to her.Had it all been a dream?

She sat up slightly to try and determine what had really happened. Looking at her arms, feeling around on her body for any signs that any of that had happened.

Nothing.

She decided to assume it was just a nightmare as she saw Callum calmly sleeping in the bed beside her.

Had she truly tried to sneak out, he surely would have startled awake and followed.Right?

The brothers did have superhuman senses after all and she had seen it first hand the night Callum took her.

But she couldn’t shake the sinister feeling that she was in serious trouble. There was a certain unease that settled in her core. A niggle of fear that wouldn’t let go.

As Ren found herself slipping further into the brothers’ world, she began to question whether she could maintain the delicate balance between her desires and her survival.

Nineteen

The beguiling cage that was the mansion began to close in on Ren. The richly furnished rooms, once a symbol of grandeur despite the desolation, started to feel claustrophobic. She was always under the watchful eyes of the brothers, their gaze a constant reminder of her captivity.

It had only been a dream, hadn’t it?

She felt like they knew what was in her mind despite waking up in the room with only Callum in the bed beside her. She hadn’t snuck in to see Bastian, even though it felt real and the urge had been overwhelming.

She had wanted to taste him and feel his power flood inside her. She wanted to see what being claimed by him would really mean. To be able to feel the pain of loving him.

Her fear of that very same thing was always a constant reminder of her humanity though, and she held on to that thread like the last lifeline it was.

She would sit in the dining room while they sipped on their fluted wine glasses filled with the blood of some unsuspecting victim.

The taste of gourmet meals began to leave a sour note on her tongue, each bite a reminder of what she couldn’t decide was a missed opportunity or a terrible mistake.

The air was heavy with tension, as she sat with the brothers at the table.

The scent of old wood and the cold marble floor now laced with a hidden trepidation. Her senses felt like they were on overdrive. Sights, smells, and sounds in the mansion all grew sharper, startling her easily whenever things felt amiss.

Her eyes often caught the flicker of shadows on the periphery of her vision, and the once immaculate artwork now appeared as ruined bloody stains. She could smell death lingering in the air and it all left a pit deep in her stomach. A nausea that lived within her no matter what she tried to do to settle it.

The divine creations of masterful chefs turned to ashes in her mouth. Her ears pricked at the distant echoes of the brothers' conversations, the rustling of the wind outside, the solemn tick of the ancient clock.

She was well and truly fucked.

Twenty

Ahorrifying truth unraveled itself one evening, as Ren discovered the brothers' true intentions. She was not merely a captive, but a pawn in a much larger game. The brothers had been keeping a dark secret from her.

As it turned out, her dream of the night in Bastian’s room was less the product of her unconscious mind, and more the makings of what Bastian wanted her to see.

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