Page 44 of Map of Pain
Vincent’s expression darkened.“Still refusing to feed properly. We’re considering extreme measures. Jae thinks we might need to sedate him for a gastric tube feeding, but getting close enough to sedate him is the problem.”
The guilt sucker punched Luka in the jaw. His twin, probably having chained himself in their farmhouse basement, lost in feral madness while Luka played house with a hunter.«I’m sorry I’m not there to help.»
“Yeah, well...”Vincent sighed, running a hand through his blond hair.“That’s what I’m trying to understand. What could possibly pull you away right now?”
Adam leaned closer to the screen, his sharp eyes studying Luka’s face with uncomfortable perception.“Is it a guy or a girl?”he asked with soft curiosity.
Luka froze, his hands suspended in mid-air. The question caught him off guard, more heat flooding his face as frustration flared through him at his transparent reaction.
Vincent’s eyes widened, focusing intently on Luka’s hesitation.“Holy shit,”he breathed.
«No, it’s not like that,»Luka said, but the damagewasdone. Even he could see how unconvincing his response looked.
“Bullshit,”Vincent said, a predatory grin spreading across his face.“I know that look. I’ve seen it in the mirror.”
From behind the bathroom door came the sound of Nick’s racing heart, rapid and distressed. Luka caught every accelerating beat and his attention immediately shifted from embarrassment to protective concern.
He signed rapidly,«Tell Matteo I love him. I’ll be home soon,»before abruptly ending the call.
Make it stop,his beast urged, restless with the need to comfort.Go to him. Hold him.
Luka wanted to obey that urge, to push through the flimsy barrier and wrap Nick in his arms until his racing heart slowed. But barging in would destroy the trustthey’dbuilt and shatter the fragile safety Nick began to feel with him.
So he sat and waited, his mind bouncing between between two anxieties—the brother who needed him and needed him for eighty years, and the hunterwho’dsomehow become essential to his existence in a matter of days.
His thoughts drifted to Matteo’s gaunt face, contorted with animalistic hunger while his mind remained trapped in silentsuffering. They tried everything over the decades—coaxing, pleading, even tricking him into drinking donated blood. Nothing worked long-term. Matteo’s aversion went beyond simple distaste; itwasa psychological block Luka couldn’t penetrate despite their bond.
A sharp crash from the bathroom jolted him from his thoughts—not a fall, but something intentionally broken. Glass shattering against tile with violent force.
Nick.Hurt.Protect.
Hewasat the door before conscious thought could form. The door swung inward easily—unlocked. He expected resistance, the need to force entry. Instead, he found himself frozen on the threshold, taking in the scene with a mixture of shock and rising rage.
Nick leaned against the sink, shoulders heaving with harsh breaths. His bare backwasa canvas of systematic cruelty—long, ragged scars, clusters of smaller marks like tally counts, puncture wounds, and patches where skinhadbeen deliberately flayed and left to heal roughly.
But itwasthe words that made fury burn through Luka’s veins. Carved deep into Nick’s flesh with brutal precision:obedient, belonging, devoted, soft. The largest inscription,good boy, dominated the space between his shoulder blades, each letter a monument to someone’s sadistic artistry.
The shattered mirror reflected distorted fragments of the room, broken pieces scattered across tile like fallen stars. Nick’s shoulders heaved as he struggled to regulate his breathing, face flushed and eyes red-rimmed from crying.
When Nick realized the doorwasopen, his gaze snapped to Luka. All color drained from his face as he dropped to his knees, arms wrapping around himself.
“Don’t look—”he whispered, voice choked with shame.
Luka pulled the door shut, retreating into the main room as the beast raged against his restraint. Every instinct screamed to tear apart whoeverhaddone this, to hunt them down and make them suffer a thousand times over for each scar they carved into Nick’s skin.
He needs us calm,Luka told himself.Rage won’t help him now.
He leaned against the wall, forcing himself to take unneeded breaths through the protective fury that threatened to overwhelm his control. He should have knocked. Should have waited for permission.He’dviolatedNick’s boundaries in the worst possible way, intruding on a moment that exposed the depth of his wounds.
For several minutes, only Nick’s ragged breathing broke the quiet, then new sounds emerged—muffled sobs, choked off as if Nickweretrying to swallow them before they escaped. Each broken sound sent fresh waves of anguish through Luka’s chest.
Something predatory stirred within him, wanting action, wanting to fix this. But Luka knew better. This kind of damage couldn’t be healed with force or good intentions. It required patience, presence, and respect for Nick’s pace.
He grabbed his notebook from the table, settling cross-legged in front of the door. Nick’s scentwassoaked in distress now, overlaid with salt and shame. Luka whistled softly—a clear C with rising intonation, questioning.
A beat passed. Then Nick’s voice, small and muffled:“No.”
Luka tried again—B natural with rising intonation, hopeful that this languagethey’dcreatedtogether would bridge the gap between them.
