Page 9 of Obsession

A roar of beasts almost more than that of men, something primal. The constant frustration of spending an eternity with your enemies as your closest allies; as close as brothers and as embittered as foes.

They were much like a family in its rawest form, fitted together not by choice, but by the bonds of blood. Their immortal blood. They had no real relation to one another. Only the ties of the immortal curse. The curse to watch everyone and everything they love disappear to nothing more than the dirt they walk upon. The need to become more powerful, the only thing that they could hold onto after so many centuries. The last light in their unyielding lives.

As she continued to learn from the books and collections, she found truths that were almost comical, proof that they were, in many ways, just men after-all.

Grayson's strategic mind revealed his internal streaks of evil, a stark contrast to Callum's seemingly compassionate demeanor.

Bastian, however, remained an enigma, his leadership, only by default it seemed, veiled by his brooding personality. Each collection of parchment and tomes seemed to have a trinket box filled with jewelry and loose stones. One box was just a small crystal flute with a smear of red lipstick on the edge.

How could a man so powerful be so easily won over by meaningless and temporary items of such minimal value? He’d been taken advantage of by countless women seeking only status and wealth, time and time again.

Bastian clearly had eyes for things like precious metals and jewels. His lust for women was obviously blinding, never learning the lessons from experience. He repeated the same failures time and again. Taking a woman from a powerful man only to have her killed or take her own life once she learned the truth of his nature.

The written history proved that he was always the jealous type that he would have needed the richest of lifestyles to prove his worth. So perhaps those women were the perfect fit for him after all.

Still, Ren could not understand why they would continue to fight amongst themselves.

Even when Grayson paraded false representations of valuable trinkets before him, Bastian would succumb to the trappings every time.

According to one of the stories, Bastian was once mesmerized by a false ring painted in gold, made from lead, with a diamond that was made from cheaply carved glass. It was hewn in just the right way to refract the light with brilliant sparkle. But when Bastian attempted to trade it as collateral in a negotiation, he learned it was merely worthless. He was still a fool after so many centuries of such a ponderous existence.

Callum was always so easily convinced that the blood spilled in battle was for the betterment of humanity. So he continued to participate in the great battles and wars that plagued the centuries of human history.

Only Grayson seemed to be aware of their truth, hate is the real nature of love, and nobody loved themselves more than this little trio.

Eleven

Despite the torment and fear, Ren refused to let herself be completely depressed and beside herself. She had faced worse things in her life, or so she convinced herself.

After-all, she was being taken care of well enough. She had food and clothing, warmth and companionship, and even reading and wine. The last two were things she rarely had time for in her life prior to the car accident.

Her encounters with each of them were a rollercoaster of emotions. Their touches were often cold and distant, yet brought a soothing calm to her at the same time.

The scent of their cologne mingled with the smell of blood, creating a potent, unsettling mix. Despite this primal attraction and yet revulsion, she learned to navigate the twisted dynamics of the brothers and their dark world. She did as she was asked, and sometimes told. She kept quiet and didn’t ask questions. Stayed an observer more than anything. Trying to make herself unseen and forgotten as often as possible, in hopes of finding her way out someday.

She found strength in herself she never knew she possessed, using it to subtly assert herself. Grayson was so wrapped up inthe games he was playing with his brothers, he barely took notice of the way she was observing and learning from him.

Not that she wanted to, but while Bastian and Callum were the two sides of the coin of power, a power she did not possess, Grayson was the thin edge of the coin rolling the wheel forward through the ages. He was remarkably adept at keeping the coin balanced on that edge.

Somehow when he saw an opportunity to put either Callum or Bastion on each other or an outside force he was like a dog with a bone. Nothing and no one would take it away from him.

Renalta’s endurance, however, came at a cost. The once vibrant colors of the world outside the mansion began to fade in her mind, replaced by the darkness of her new reality. Her senses were now attuned to the brothers' presences, the sound of their voices, the sight of their dark silhouettes, the scent of their peculiar cologne now familiar.

She found herself so wrapped up in them that she was slowly becoming their centerpiece. She became the point in the middle of the mass of both faces and the edge.

With a little push, she found she could flip the coin any way she wanted, always staying away from the violently rotating edges that could hurt so much if they struck wrong as the hand went to catch it.

She developed into the eye of the storm, where the crashing waves of Bastian, the torrential downpour of Callum, and the howling winds of Grayson all calmed in her presence.

Despite everything, Ren remained unbroken, an ember of hope still burning in her chest. Even as she delved deeper into the world of the vampires, she held onto a shred of her humanity, her last tie to the world she had been abruptly taken from. She had to hold out that hope that she would be able to break free of the catacombs, break free of the gothic underbelly these enigmatic men thrived in.

There was only one problem with that.

She was torn. She liked the feeling of power.

That power she had over them when she was alone with them.

The way they made her feel.

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