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“I want you to carve your name into my skin,” I whisper against his lips, and he sucks in a deep breath.
He gave me something special, something I don’t think either of us thought he could give me. I want to give him something in return.
He picks me up, digging his fingers into my thighs, rushing forward and slamming my back into the wall as he devours my mouth. I wrap my hands around his neck, squeezing as tight as I can to cut off his breathing. He moans, grinding his hardening cock against my bare pussy.
“I’m going to carve your skin up so prettily, angel,” he mutters, biting my bottom lip until it bleeds. “I’m going to fucking brand you as mine.”
“If I let you carve up my pretty skin, will you tell me you love me as well?” Bastian smirks at our side.
Dorian breaks the kiss, scowling at Bastian as he leans against the wall, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ll carve my fucking dick on your forehead, you moment breaking bastard.”
I laugh loudly, shaking my head as Dorian drops me to my feet. “Go put on the prettiest dress you have, angel. We haven’t got long.”
I nod my head, sucking in a deep breath, some nerves filtering back in.
“It will all be okay, pretty girl. Trust us.” Bastian wipes away the tears on my face, kissing my head.
“Always,” I whisper, leaving their room to get ready.
23
Dorian
Octavia steps out of her room, her heels clicking on the floor, gazing at us with her wide doe eyes that set my heart on fire. I wondered if she was going to stick to the bloodline guidance and wear one of her old dresses for our meal, but she does my toxic soul proud by wearing a floor length white gown tight to her body, showcasing every curve, covered in crystals, leaving one arm bare while the over is covered by a sleeve, a long slit revealing her thick thigh, body shimmer making the stretch-marks there sparkle. Her white-blonde hair is slightly curled, pulled over her bare shoulder.
“I’ve never seen you look more like an angel,” I whisper, capturing her face, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth and tasting her light pink lipstick.
She moans, melting at my touch as easily as breathing. I always knew I owned her, never doubted for a second that she was mine, but I never realised how much I was hers. Love isn’t something I ever considered when I thought of her. She was my possession, my property; no one was going to take what wasmine away from me, but I missed the moment she claimed me right back, when she took me as hers.
I have fallen sickeningly, obsessively in love with this woman, something I never believed myself capable of, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
“My turn,” Bastian snaps, barging into my shoulder, stealing her out of my grasp.
He twirls her in a circle, making her giggle before bending her dramatically and going in for a romantic movie kiss. She still giggles against his lips as she kisses him, melting into his touch as much as she did mine.
That is why we work so well, why my brother and I are not complete without the other. I cannot give her that, the carefree, playful kind of love. No matter how unhinged and damaged my brother is, he can be completely free. His scars and torment mean he doesn’t have a single care in the fucking world. My damage is different. I need to control, I’m too possessive. I can give them safety and peace to just be.
My sweet Octavia is more damaged than both of us, just in a different way. She craves to be loved, to be cherished, to have everything she so desperately wanted all her life and could only get from us, but it was tainted with fear of everything else. I plan to slaughter every possible thing that could bring that fear back, anything that takes away from her happiness. I might not be able to give her sweet romance, but Icangive her my fucking life for her to do with as she pleases.
“Time to go now, kids,” I say, snapping my pocket watch closed. Dinner is about to be served, and this is a meal I do not want to be late for.
“What have you got planned?” Octavia asks, frowning at me as Bastian sets her on her feet.
“Whatever do you mean?” I shrug my shoulder, trying to school my face into a neutral expression, but I can’t help the smirk still pulling at my lips.
“Oh, you’ve done something extremely fucked up.” Bastian bounces on the balls of his feet, his eyes sparkling with bloodthirsty excitement. “I know that look. You’re giving the same look you did when you made Octavia’s nanny eat her husband’s heart by making her think it was a cow’s. She got about halfway through before you dumped his body on the table with his chest caved in.”
Bastian laughs hysterically, holding his stomach, as Octavia’s eyes widen, her head whipping between the two of us.
“I’m sorry, what?” she exclaims. “When did you do this?”
I don’t need long to remember. I know the exact date. “Fourteen years, seven months, and nine days ago, give or take a few hours.”
A burst of nervous laughter erupts from her as she shakes her head in bewilderment. “A memorable event, then.”
I step towards her, trailing my fingers through her luscious hair. “Of course it was. It was the day after she cut your hair against your will at Father’s request. Bastian and I had put semi permanent pink dye on the ends because you wanted to look like a fairy princess.”
I brush my lips over her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of strawberries. “Like I was ever going to let that go unpunished. Every fairy princess needs her demons.”
