Page 17 of Thorn of Sorrow

“It doesn’t matter.” Kyson pulled out of my arms, giving me his back. He was pushing me away yet again.

Not for the first time, I wished I could be as closed-off as Malachi had been before Dane. To harden my heart so no one could slip inside.

For centuries, it had been that way. I’d been just as ruthless and bloodthirsty as my brother. Maybe even more so. The void inside me never hesitated. It didn’t feel guilt or longing or regret.

Back then, there was no room for softness. We had been born to the most monstrous vampires to ever live. Malachi might have been the one who’d had the compassion beaten out of him, but I hadn’t escaped the cruelty unscathed.

Then a human had shattered that impenetrable wall. Somehow, without even trying, Colson had burrowed under my skin, dragging emotions to the surface I’d never felt before. I might have loved him, truly loved him, if I’d known what the hell love even felt like before him.

Then Malachi had slept with the male.

Let it go. But I couldn’t. You didn’t just let go of a resentment that had gnawed at you for fifty goddamn years. Even after what happened at the station, the anger still sat there, festering inside of me.

Forgiveness was a long road, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to take that trip.

You’re a hard son of a bitch to please. You criticize me because I don’t treat you like a brother but complain when I do.

Fuck if that wasn’t the truth.

Not even a month ago, I’d told him I’d put the past behind me. The lie had slid easily on the breeze between us, causing me to wonder if truth even mattered anymore.

Trust and loyalty were foreign things, impossible to believe in when betrayal and self-preservation had been my constant companions for so long.

And Colson’s betrayal had only solidified that belief.

Now here I stood, wanting Kyson as badly now as I had when we’d met. The ache for him had never dulled, remaining a maddening fire burning low in my gut. In all my years of existence, I’d never yearned for someone the way I did for him, and I had never figured out why. What was it about the human that completely unraveled me?

“I just…” Kyson raked his fingers through his blond hair, leaving strands sticking out in messy tufts. “You wouldn’t understand, Giovanni.”

“You’re right. I can’t understand, considering you won’t talk to me, Kyson.” The snarl came unbidden, sharper than I intended, but his stubbornness was maddening.

He charged toward me. I braced myself, unsure what he was about to do. His scowl promised nothing good.

“Open the goddamn door right now!” The corners of his mouth turned downward, his lips pressing into a hard, unmoving line.

“So that’s it?” I argued. “You’re just going to run away from this? Push me aside and shut me out like you always do?” My control slipped, and I felt the heat behind my eyes as they glowed red, my fangs extending.

“Fuck you, Giovanni!”

“I brought you here to share a part of myself I’ve never shared with anyone, and you can’t even give me one fucking answer?” The volume of my voice matched his, raw and biting.

“The mighty Giovanni,” he scoffed, his words dripping with contempt. “Not everyone bows down to you in reverence. I didn’t ask you to share a damn thing with me. Even at your worst, you will never be the monster that son of a bitch turned me into!” His voice cracked, catching on a sob as his chest heaved. “I wish to god he would have just ended me instead of turning me into a freak.”

I stood there, thunderstruck by his confession. My gaze swept over him instinctively, taking in every tremor, every frayed edge of the control he barely held together. The only time I’d seen him without clothing was the night Malachi had brought him home. The cloak wrapped around him had been soaked in blood, and when Malachi had pulled the fabric aside, I’d been horrified at what that demon had done.

There had been so many gouges, so many burns seared into his skin in neat, deliberate circles, all inflicted on someone who hadn’t deserved it. I’d staggered backward, wondering how the hell the male had survived.

But to hear him say he wished he’d died tore through me, leaving a deep ache in my chest.

I’d spent years watching him reclaim himself piece by piece, fighting like hell to put his shattered life back together. It had only made me respect him more, admire him more.

And maybe watching him fight like hell was the reason I had fallen in love with him.

The thought hit me like a blow, my lungs stalling as the truth settled in—a blazing, undeniable epiphany. I didn’t know what love was, not really. Yet, when I looked at Kyson, he burned brighter than anything I’d ever allowed myself to want. Slow and consuming, something no storm could smother, something no time could erode.

In two swift strides, I had him in my arms, holding him tight, even as he twisted and pushed against me. “Goddamn it, Kyson. For once, let me comfort you.”

He fought for a moment longer, but then his resistance crumbled. He slumped against me, trembling as silent tears soaked into my shirt. I tightened my grip, steadying him through the release he had probably never allowed himself before.

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