Page 8 of Tarnished Embers

They both pause, heads slightly tilted as they study me with a banked heat in their stares and suddenly I’m itching to hide as they train their eyes on me.

“As you wish, Pretty Thing,” Kit purrs, placing a soft kiss on my lips and leaving them tingling. He pushes up, the slight chill of the spring morning air hitting my feverish body as he gets out of bed and stalks towards the balcony doors. Of fucking course that’s how they got in.

“We’ll be back tonight, little sis,” Oct promises, copying his brother and kissing my lips, though he lingers longer, peppering me with small kisses until my breath is panting from my chest and my fingers are tangling in his soft hair. “Don’t bother locking the doors.”

I watch through half-lidded eyes, propped up on my elbows as he gets out of my bed and stretches, showcasing all of his glorious muscles and the fact that, like Kit, he’s in just boxer briefs, a gaudy orange pair that tugs my lips upwards.He’s definitely my sunshine. He has random tattoos decorating his body, bright bursts of colour in a patchwork that suits him in its chaos. There’s a clock face on his forearm, a bird swooping low on his hip, and a teal butterfly in the centre of his chest.

He gives me the cheekiest smile known to man when I catch his eyes, then he saunters to the balcony doors, his hard-on bobbing in his underwear with each step, before going through and softly closing them behind him.

I flop back onto the sheets—the damp fucking sheets—and a huff of air leaves my lungs as I try to decide if I want to cry or giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. I want to call them back, but I have to physically grip the duvet to stop myself from reaching for them even though they’re gone.

How is this my life? How did it go from trying to live my life after my mother’s death to…this? I’m not even sure what this is, but I think I just agreed to let the twins back into my room tonight. I didn’t tell them no…

And what did they mean by Cas ordered them not to fuck me yet? And that Prince gets first fuck? And why is a part of me okay with having my autonomy taken away by them like that? What’s wrong with me that I crave this kind of attention from my stepbrothers? Am I so broken that I’ll give them that power over me, that control?

My head spins as I try to decode what it all means, and I’ve got sweet fuck all. Add in that my dad wants to discuss something and I can feel the tension building, weighing on me like a headache. Tremors race across my body, heat making me flush as sweat beads under my arms at the memory of how far I let the twins take it this morning and how much I wanted it to go further.

My fingers twitch in the covers, and the unbidden thought of what will help to ease the pressure slams into me with such force that I’m up and out of my bed in an instant, heading to my bathroom with a desperate need that I know won’t be ignored. It’s a battle that I’ve been losing ever since I discovered how little power I had when my pleas for my mother’s life to be spared went unanswered. Cancer doesn’t give a fuck.

Reaching into the back of the cabinet, I take out a small pouch, the sound of the zipper loud as I drag it across the teeth. I bite my lip, my fingers trembling a little and my heart pounding as I pull out a freshly wrapped blade. Then I take off the paper, the light gleaming off the silver surface.

My nerves jerk, yet my hand steadies as I roll up my sleeve, my eyes darting over the mixture of silver and pink scars that litter my forearm, looking for a new place. The logical part of my brain tells me this isn’t the way to deal with my overwhelming emotions, but logic has nothing to do with what I crave, the control that I need to take back.

“Just four cuts,” I murmur, pausing when I realise the sudden significance of the number. “One for each of them.”

The rush as the blade slices across my skin rivals that of the release Kit just gave me, and my eyes flutter closed for a second as I let the feeling wash over me, bringing peace in its wake. All the tension drains from my body like the drops of blood that drip from it, and tears sting my eyes at the sheer relief, leaving me breathless.

Opening my eyes, I repeat the move three more times, my muscles relaxing further with each slice, and the beauty of the crimson blood that drips down my olive skin—the same tanned hue as my mother’s—captivates me for a moment. I know that hot shame will fill me later, that I will continue to cover my scars with long sleeves, but for now, I will focus on the way the small pain is allowing me to breathe easier and helping me to focus my mind once again.

Wrapping the blade back in its packet and then some tissue paper, I drop it into the bin and turn on the shower, feeling like I’m floating and finally able to just fucking breathe. It may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but it’s all I’ve got, all I’ve ever had, and it works to calm me when everything feels too much.

And my new family, my new stepbrothers, definitely qualify as too much.

CHAPTERFOUR

“YOU PUT A SPELL ON ME” BY AUSTIN GIORGIO

PRINCE

We wait for Ember in the dining room, sitting down with plates piled high and still feeling jet-lagged as shit. The twins look fresher than Cas and I, and I don’t even need to guess where they were this morning, having heard Ember’s cries of pleasure through the wall between our rooms.

My dick was so fucking hard picturing what they were doing to her that I came in my sheets like a horny teenager at the whimpering sounds she made. I imagined her making those sweet noises while I’m buried deep inside her, my hand wrapped around her pretty, slender throat.

Fuck. Now I’m hard again and with her dad at the table. Inappropriate doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Then she walks in, shoulders back and breasts thrust forward, her long-sleeved, white shirt and high-waisted jeans clinging to every mouthwatering curve. It’s not helping my dick, but I’m just as entranced as my brothers when she strides in, pausing when she sees us all staring. A flush warms her cheeks pink, and I love the colour on her.

“G–good morning,” she greets softly, her big, blue eyes wide as she tries to work out where to sit.

“We saved you a seat,” Caspian tells her, rising and gesturing to the place between him and I. The pink in her cheeks darkens when she catches my gaze, and I know that I’m giving her a predator’s smile, but I don’t give a fuck. Cas might want to fool her into thinking he’s a good guy, but I have no such qualms.

The way I see it, she doesn’t have a choice so why sugar-coat it?

“Oh, thanks,” she replies in a surprised whisper before slowly making her way to us. She pauses once more when Cas pulls out her chair, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she lets him push it in under her.

“I got you a plate,” he tells her, motioning to the very full plate of food that’s in front of her. She licks her lips, blinking owlishly at it.

“I usually just have some muesli,” she informs him quietly, not looking up from the plate of food, but he just smiles indulgently at her.

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