by L. C. Davis
At least if I died – and it seemed likely that I would, regardless of Sebastian's thin reassurances – I would die knowing the truth. Most of it, anyway.
I knew now that Jeff and his father were vampires. I knew they had both used me as the family blood slave, among other things. I knew that at least some of my scars were from Jeff, used to bleed me while covering his own tracks. I knew that they had both compelled me to forget things in an attempt to hide their actions not only from one another but, in some cases, each other.
What to do with that knowledge was entirely beyond me. The shame from my scars was still there, even though I no longer panicked at the thought of uncovering them. The guilt was still there, both for what I had led Sebastian to do in the woods and for the entire line of vampires that no longer existed because of me. More than anything, I was just at a loss for what to feel.
If I had known clarity would be so confusing, I might have told Victor to leave it alone. Then maybe he wouldn't have been in such a mess either.
The worst part was, I couldn't get him to tell me anything during our psychic restructuring sessions. I knew he had spoken to me telepathically the day everything went to hell, and I knew he could speak with Sebastian. The fact that he wasn't even telling me if he was alright.
Every time I tried to talk to him about what had happened, he redirected the conversation to something about my memories. He was in my mind for a minimum of three hours every single day, but he had never been further away.
The latest session had been far more brutal than usual. He was pulling out all the stops the closer we got to my demise. I staggered a bit as I got up from my chair and turned away from Victor. Saying goodbye was pointless. All he would do was look at the floor in silence. Sebastian's hand covered the small of my back to steady me as he led me up the stairs, away from the man he no longer treated as brother, but prisoner.
The basement door locked behind us and I staggered again.
“Do you need me to carry you?”
“No,” I said as firmly as I could without being outright rude.
He sighed. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Nothing. I'm not hungry.”
He spun me around and leaned down to speak face-to-face. “You have to eat something. You'll be too weak to complete the transformation if you don't.”
I jerked my arm away. “Fine. I'll have what Victor is having, then.”
He stood up straight and watched me for a moment. He seemed to be summoning his patience. Looked like I was capable of draining even his reserves.
“I know you're incapable of seeing this right now, but he hurt you.”
“That's what you're not understanding. I don't know why he's just giving up without a fight, but he never hurt me. I've known him for a matter of weeks, you've known him for your entire life. You should know better.”
He looked away. “You say that like this isn't killing me. Like I want to believe he's capable of such a horrible betrayal. But the facts don't lie. I found those sketches in his room.”
My heart sank. “Those are from-”
He held up his hand to silence me. “Victor has always been chased by some hidden obsession for as long as I can remember. Now I know what it was.”
“He thinks we're soulmates, just like you do. I know he was explaining it to you before,” I said, capitalizing on his surprise. “If he's guilty of obsession, it's no different from yours.”
“What Victor says and what's true are two different things. You don't understand the way this works.”
“What I don't understand is why you're so quick to believe your own twin could do something like that?”
He sighed, looking around as two others entered the dungeon. “Tell you what. If you eat something and take your medication without a fight this time, I'll answer your question.”
I was reluctant to agree with him on anything, but I had little choice. I nodded grudgingly and followed him upstairs.
He left me in the room and I waited with my arms crossed as he went to get dinner. He returned with sandwiches about ten minutes later. Four for him, one for me.
The bed sank under his solid mass as he sat down beside me. I felt a bit guilty that he'd been sleeping on the floor rather than return to his own room. I knew it was only because he was rightly concerned that I would run off and try to spring Victor if he left me alone at night for more than a few minutes.
“Go ahead, try some.”
I looked at him in silent protest.
He sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “Fine. You wanted to know how I'm sure he...” His words faded into a dangerous growl building up in his throat before he collected himself. “There are some things about werewolves that you need to understand. When we mate, we bond. It's not just emotional, it's physical. The dominant wolf's essence permeates everything for months and he or she becomes extremely possessive. Obsessed, really.
It's a less permanent form of marking and it only happens during sex. That's why we try to only have sex with humans. One, it's a pain in the ass to be emotionally bound to someone for a night of passion and two, every wolf in sight knows what went down.”
“So that only happens during mating?”
“There is one other time,” he said. His eyes took on a dark, glassy look and I could feel his rage building.
I swallowed hard. “Sebastian, I don't know what to tell you. I didn't sleep with Victor, but he didn't attack me either. There has to be another explanation.”
“There's not. Not for wolves. What happened to always going with the most logical explanation?”
“'What about the things logical explanations can't explain?'”
He snarled distastefully at my challenge took a huge bite of his sandwich. “Eat,” he demanded.
I sighed, taking a small bite, since he kept his end of the bargain.
We ate in tense silence that didn't break until he was long since done with his own food. It felt like I was one half of an old married couple rather than a young sort-of couple.
“The harvest moon rises next week.”
“Mhm.”
“The Alpha wants to meet us both tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Probably to ream me out for fucking this up so badly. Won't be near what I deserve.”
I sighed. “Most of this isn't your fault. You can't help that you go all crazy when you see a vampire, I guess.”
“Never heard it described that way,” he said with a short laugh. Then he grew serious. “I'm sorry I scare you so much.”
I shrugged. “From the way Victor tells it, neither of you chose this.”
“No, but I'm the one who scares you.” There was a hint of frustration in his voice. I tried to put myself in his place for a moment. If I believed my brother had done something unforgivable to the person I was sworn to protect, and they were ardently defending the person I was sure had hurt them, I guess I would be frustrated, too.
“It was hard for me to accept that it was you,” I admitted. “I was starting to have feelings for you, and all of a sudden you were this different person.”
“I'm still me, Remus,” he said earnestly, leaning in. “I'm the same person.”
I didn't even realize I was backing away until the hurt registered in his eyes. “I'm sorry,” I said quickly. “I want to believe that, I just don't know if I can. You were just so...”
“Vicious?”
I hesitated. He had found the word I was looking for, but it was hard to admit it. “Yes,” I said finally.
“It's okay. I know what I am.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I'm okay with it.”
“That's what scares me,” I said earnestly. “You're so sweet and gentle, and then you just... snap.”
“Not on you,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Never on you. I'm not Jeff.”
Surprise must have registered on my face because he added, “Victor told me before. You're right, we can speak telepathically. Technically he can speak to a
nyone, but our bond makes it easier.”
I frowned. “Then why can't you see that he didn't do what you think he did?”
He held my gaze, unflinching. “Because when I tried to look, he blocked me out. That's the thing about Victor. If he wants to know something, he'll do whatever it takes. If he doesn't want you to know something? Forget it.”
“There has to be another reason he would do that,” I insisted. “I just can't believe you're being such a hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite?” It was the first time I'd heard him raise his voice in anger towards me.
I flinched, but I wasn't about to take it back. “Yes, a hypocrite. You can rip someone apart while they scream and bleed to death, yet you think you're in a position to make the judgment call that your own brother is capable of forcing himself on me.”
Under any other circumstances, I would have withered away at the idea of such a confrontation, werewolf or not. This was different, though. There was an innocent man locked up underground because of me. The stakes were too high to be so weak.
He stood up and fumed as he stalked around the room. I stayed where I was and refused to yield.
“He didn't have to, Remus! Do you get that? All he had to do was slip into your mind and you'd go crawling into his bed.”
“That isn't what happened!”
“You wouldn't know!” he bellowed. “The way you're acting just proves it.”
“The way I'm acting? And how exactly is that, Sebastian?” I demanded, standing. I planted my hands firmly on my hips and stared him down, willing myself not to give in to the shiver that was creeping up my spine. “Because all I see is you acting like a fuming child jealous that his older brother is getting more attention.”
Sebastian's fist clenched and for an instant I feared he really was going to hit me. Instead, he turned around, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his desk drawer. His fist enveloped the carton and he stalked out of the room.
Against my better judgment, I followed him.
The one time I had followed Jeff when he stormed out after an argument, I had ended up with a broken jaw. After that I learned that it was better just to cower and hide. Strange that I could remember that now without the familiar hum of pain in my mind.
If there was any future for Sebastian and I, he had to know I wasn't going to spend my life cowering every time we disagreed.
“Where are you going?” I asked, struggling to keep up with him as he took the stairs four and five at a time.
“Outside,” he growled. His voice was slurred, like he already had something in his mouth.
I followed him out to the side of the Lodge and stopped a safe distance away. I watched as he lit the cigarette dangling out of his mouth and took a long drag.
“Why did you leave?”
“Afraid,” he muttered. A puff of smoke came out through his nostrils, making him resemble a stamping bull.
I wasn't sure I wanted to know what someone like Sebastian was afraid of. “Why?” I asked warily.
He didn't reply, but the realization occurred swiftly. “Afraid you were going to hit me?”
He turned to me with an expression I could only read as abject horror.
“What? Hell no. That's never even crossed my mind no matter how fucking insane you're driving me.”
I relaxed my guarded stance a little. “Really?”
He looked me in the eyes, still fuming. “Never has, never will.”
“Then what were you afraid of?”
He shrugged. “Didn't want you to see me get pissed off, I guess. I don't want you to think I'm like your ex.”
Guilt hit me in the stomach like a freight train, blowing away all the moxy I had managed to scrape together on Victor's behalf.
“Oh,” I said, leaning back against the stone exterior of the Lodge. “That was really sweet of you.”
I got a vague grunt of acknowledgment.
We stood in silence for a long while. When watching pillars of smoke get broken apart by the crisp autumn air got old, I realized that he wasn't going to be the one to break the silence.
“I didn't know you smoked.”
“I don't. Not for the last seven years, anyway.”
“Then why was there a pack of cigarettes in your things?”
Radio silence.
“Please?”
“They're left over from when I quit. I had more trouble than the rest with controlling the shift. Having a smoke would calm me down if I got too riled up. Victor bought me that pack once I'd finally learned to control it. Said it was the last pack I was ever gonna smoke now that I didn't need it as a crutch, and that if he ever saw me smoking anything else he was gonna kick my ass.”
He smiled tightly as he slipped the carton back into his pocket. “Made 'em last.”
I wanted to say something or comfort him somehow, but I knew the best thing I could do was keep my gaze fixed ahead and pretend not to notice the moisture in his eyes.
The moon hung low in the sky and I didn't know if it was just my imagination or if it really was taking on a vague reddish tint already.
I had been a clueless idiot to think Sebastian took what was happening with his brother lightly. Whatever resentment or competition there might be between them, he obviously loved his brother dearly. Probably more than anyone. If he was convinced of Victor's guilt, verbally berating him wasn't going to do any good. It made the idea that I was somehow coming between them even more unbearable, but at least I had a better understanding of Sebastian.
For now, that was all I could do.
“Moon looks close,” I murmured.
“Yeah.”
“I don't know how much time I have left, Sebastian, but I do know I don't want it to be spent like this. I know Victor is innocent with all my heart,-”
He bristled.
“-but that was no excuse to disrespect you or accuse you of not caring. I'm sorry. I know you love him more than anyone.”
His shoulders fell.
“I did.” His voice was low and gravely. “Then I met you. A brother would understand that.”
“He will, Sebastian. I don't know how, but I'm going to prove to you that he's innocent. If we really are soulmates, then us being together should make our lives better, not tear you apart from the only other person who loves you as much as I do.”
His expression was one of pure shock. “You love me?”
My face grew warm as I realized what I had said. “I-I guess I do.”
When had it happened, exactly? Somewhere in the pendulum swing between trying to escape my persistent shadow and all those sleepless nights of not knowing if he was even alive.
He smiled and I caught sight of my Sebastian for the first time in weeks.
“I love you, too.” He stalked over to gather me into his arms and crushed me against the wall so fast a few tiny stones chipped off.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and couldn't help but laugh as I stroked his hair. It was even shaggier than it had been when he left. Now it fell over his eyes if he wasn't constantly pushing It back and the ends tickled the back of his collar.
“You'd better,” I teased. “You're the one who marked me.”
His joyful energy faltered. “Yeah, and fucked up your life.”
I winced mildly. “I prefer to think of it as an unsolicited rearrangement.”
“Huh?”
I laughed. “You fucked it up in a lot of ways, but made it better in others.”
Only the harvest moon could say where equilibrium would fall. When Sebastian's lips captured mine for the very first time, none of it seemed to matter.
His scruff tickled my face and I broke the kiss just in time to turn away to sneeze.
“Gesundheit,” he said, his eyes warm with amusement.
“Excuse me,” I sighed, scratching his bristly cheek. “You need to shave.”
He grinned. “What, you don't like mountain men? I was thinking I'd keep it.”
“Keep it if you want, I'm not mak
ing out with a Brillo pad,” I joked.
“Oh don't give me that.” He pressed me into the wall even harder and nipped at my neck with a low, rumbling growl. “You're just intimidated by my rugged spirit.”
“That tickles!” I squealed, trying to lean away from him. I was laughing so hard it was difficult to breathe.
“Oh yeah?” He took it as an invitation to probe every vulnerable area he could reach with the hand he wasn't using to hold me up.
I shrieked involuntarily and started squirming desperately to get out of his grasp. It was useless.
“S-Sebastian!” I gasped.
He gave a rich growl of approval and tickling turned to groping. I wasn't sure if it was an improvement at first, but when his hand went up my shirt and his warm, rough palm began to explore my flesh, I knew.
Our lips met again as his hands explored my body. He had me so firmly pressed against the wall and my legs were so tightly wrapped around him that I was perfectly secure.
Instinct and the primal hunger that had been building ever since my session with Victor took over and made it impossible for the reservations I would normally have to kick in.
My nails tore at his shirt as his tongue caressed my neck. I took the time to grope every inch of that glorious upper body I was growing sick and tired of pretending I didn't notice. Now the fact that his T-shirt clung so tightly to his body was torture of a different kind.
“We're kind of out in the open here,” he laughed, coming up for air.
I didn't care. My fear of him was fading with every moment that passed. The moon's rays streaming through the trees were warm and encouraging.
I just had to get him on board.
“So let's go to the dungeon.”
My suggestion clearly took him by surprise. “Call me old fashioned, but I don't want our first time to be in a play room. You hate that stuff.”
I knew that telling him I'd come around to the idea of bdsm while he was gone wasn't going to help, so I tried a different tactic. I drew him in for another kiss and subtly wriggled out of his hold just enough until I could break free with one quick movement.