Killien
Damien is acting weird. Ever since I fed from Owen, he’s been irritated. He crawls into my bed every single night, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on my neck. But he does so with a frown on his pretty face. It’s like he’s hot and cold.
Three weeks have passed, and nothing changes. The air between us seems to crackle when we’re close. I feel Damien’s pull on my soul each time his skin brushes against mine. But sometimes, he just pushes me away. He gets angry when I talk to Owen or meet up with him, and I can’t help but think thathe’s jealous. Which only drags me further down into the abyss of feelings I shouldn’t be having.
Sneaking out to see Caleb is getting harder with each passing day, because Damien seems to want to follow me everywhere. I can’t find a moment to unleash my fantasies and cool down. Unless I lock myself in the bathroom and touch myself, thinking shamelessly about him—which I’ve been trying not to do. I don’t know why, but it feels much worse than my fantasies with Caleb. What choice do I have, anyway? If I can’t let it out with Caleb, I have to do it on my own. If I don’t, I’m afraid I might do something to Damien.
That thought alone makes my blood run cold. I’m closer than ever to fucking up. Every time I look at him, I feel something dark and dangerous crawling up my throat. The hardest part of it all, is that Iwantto lose control. Icraveit.
Sometimes, I think that Damien would accept it. Hell, I might even think he’s encouraging it. But it has to be my mind playing tricks on me, right?
He’d be horrified, for fuck’s sake. I’m his brother, and he has a boyfriend, anyway.
Still . . . He’s being weird with Jacob too. Damien hasn’t slept in his apartment in more than a week, and that’s a lot for how close they’ve become. Now, he seems to be avoiding his boyfriend even more than he’s avoiding me.
Part of me loves that. The evil part, I guess. The one that wants me to cut the chains that keep me from deviating from my path.
I sigh as I stare at him, curled up on the grey sofa, staring at the TV while he pulls on the loose threads of the fabric mindlessly, almost like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Why do we still watch the news? It’s pointless, since it’s been long enough and no one’s talking about my little murder spreeanymore. It feels like it was ages ago, somehow. I’m a completely different person now.
I stare at his pretty profile, at the way he turns one of his lip rings with his tongue, and imagine what kissing him would be like. Nothing has ever felt more enticing than him, and the longer this goes on, the more it feelsjust right. Like he’s exactly who I should be wanting.
The veil of human society’s morality seems to have slipped away. It no longer matters that we were raised as brothers. We’re not related in any way, other than how we were forced together by destiny. We’ve been stuck to one another since forever. I don’t even remember life without him.
Honestly, I don’t want to know what that’s like either. And, also . . . I’m starting to think that, even if we were related, I wouldn’t care. I’d still want him, love him, and burn for him all the same.
I’m really fucked-up. Like, seriously fucking fucked.
Damien turns to look at me, almost as if he can finally feel me staring at his face. His expression is dark and kind of empty. It breaks my heart, and all I want to do is dive into his mouth and throw all caution to the wind.
“What’s wrong, Killi?” he asks softly, but his voice is devoid of all emotion. It has been like that for the past days.
I shake my head. “Nothing. You just—you look kinda tired.”
Damien laughs darkly, throwing his head back against the battered headrest. “I’m tired, yeah. Tired of holding on to my sanity by a single thread.”
Fuck. Me too.
I don’t even know what he’s talking about, but I can tell he’s being honest. Whatever is going through his devilish mind must be weighing him down. Should I ask? Do I want to know?
Sometimes, I wish that his problem was feeling the same way I do. I really wish that was it, because it would be fixed in aninstant. I’d cross the line if he showed a clear sign of wanting me. I might have no fucks left to give.
Before I can say anything, my phone rings and I’m startled. I stare at Owen’s name on the screen for a while, not really wanting to pick up. Damien’s eyes stay on my face as I answer the call reluctantly.
“Hi, Owen.”
“Are you avoiding me, Killien?” Owen’s voice sounds playful, and it makes my stomach turn. I actually have been avoiding him a bit. Well—more than just a bit. He’s right.
“No, why?” I lie.
Owen laughs on the other side of the line. “I miss the taste of your blood, you know?”
Shit, I miss his blood too. It’s the only thing I miss about him.
I swallow hard, feeling my mouth water. I’ve been meeting up with him once a week just because he’s become my only source of vampire blood. I don’t think we’re compatible at all, although he keeps insisting that we give it time and tries to take it a step further each time. But his blood makes me stronger, and I need it. I’d rather drink from Jacob or Damien, but I know that’s off limits.
“Why don’t you come over?” Owen insists. It sounds like a purr and I hate it.
“Okay.”
