Page 78 of You Were Always Mine
He doesn’t move at first. Just breathes, ragged,so close I can feel the storm in his chest. His hand digs harder into my waist, like if he lets go, I’ll vanish.
Then, softer than I expect, rougher than I can handle, he whispers?—
“Careful, Scar. You don’t get to set me on fire and tell me to put it out.”
The moment the words leave me, he moves. Fast. Brutal. The glass jolts as he spins me, slams me against another mirror so hard the warped reflection fractures into a dozen distorted versions of myself—every one of them spread, desperate, trembling.
“You want me to be your brother?” Kai snarls, breath hot on the back of my neck. His palm flattens low on my stomach, dragging me tight against him. “Then why are you dripping for me like this, Scar?”
I choke on air. My reflection stares back with wild eyes, legs forced open by the press of his knee. Another mirror angles it crueller, showing the way his fingers trace higher, filthy, claiming. I can’t escape it—every angle shows what he’s doing to me, what I’m letting him do.
“Look,” he hisses, forcing my chin toward the nearest panel, my cheek smashing into the cold glass. “Look at yourself. Every dirty angle. Every filthy secret. You hate me, but your body fucking worships me.”
His hand slides down, rough, shameless, pressing until my breath breaks into a sob. I see it from above, from the side, from everywhere at once—the mirrors making it inescapable.
“This is what you asked for in the car, wasn’t it? To forget? To pretend? Well, baby sister, there’s no forgetting this.” His teeth graze my ear, his hips grind mercilessly into me. “Every mirror in this place is going to remember you.”
The glass fogs, the air shatters with my broken sound, and his laugh—low, cracked, filthy—fills the funhouse.
My reflection stares back at me, glass fractured into a dozen versions of the same shame—wide eyes, parted lips, cheeks wet with sweat and heat. His grip pins me in place, immovable, my wrists trapped against the mirror while his thigh keeps me straddled.
“Look at you,” Kai hisses, voice low enough to crawl beneath my skin. “Every angle, every copy of you spread out like a fucking gallery, and not one of them can hide what you are when I touch you.”
“Stop—” My protest breaks in the middle, thin and weak.
He grinds me down harder, lips brushing my ear like a curse.
“You keep saying stop, but your body keeps saying more. Which one should I believe, baby?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but his voice follows me into the dark.
“Open them. Look. That’s not your brother making you shake.” His breath sounds ragged as he pushes me harder into the glass. “Because I’m not your brother. I’ve never been. And deep down you’ve always fucking known it.”
My eyes fly open, and there he is behind me in the reflection—eyes blazing blue fire, jaw clenched, mouth at my throat, my body trembling against his. His words sink claws into the space where my shame lives, dragging me closer to the edge I swore I wouldn’t fall from.
“You want the truth?” he whispers, filthy and cruel. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted to be is the boy who ruins you.”
The glass is cold against my back, his heat scorchingeverywhere else. I shake my head, but the words slip out anyway, splintered and trembling.
“I don’t… I don’t want you to be my brother.”
It’s barely a whisper, so soft I almost pray the mirrors will swallow it. But I feel the way his body stills against mine, like the universe stopped breathing.
“Say it again,” Kai growls, his voice not human anymore, raw and jagged.
My throat burns, but the truth tears itself out of me.
“I don’t want a brother. I want—” The rest breaks in a sob, and that’s enough.
His hand leaves my wrist only to seize my jaw, forcing me to meet the reflection of my own betrayal. His other hand drags lower, past the denim at my hips, rough and unrelenting as his mouth crushes against mine like he’s been starving for years.
“You think you can say that and I won’t touch you?” His fingers dug deeper, his body pressed me harder into the glass, and his words broke against my lips. “You’re mine, Scar. You’ve always been mine. And I swear to God, I’ll make sure you never forget who put you here shaking.”
The second his mouth claims mine, I stop breathing. It isn’t a kiss, it’s a war—his teeth on my lip, his tongue forcing past my own, swallowing every broken sound I make like he’s been starving for this.
The mirrors shake with every slam of my body against the glass. His grip bruises my jaw, his hand tearing at my shirt like fabric’s a crime between us. I taste blood when he bites me, and instead of pulling back, I arch harder, whimpering into him like the masochist I swore I wasn’t.
“Fuck, Scar,” he groans into my mouth, his words all spit and hunger, “you think I can stop now? After that? After you said you don’t want a brother?”
