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Wait… what?
No.
No, I never want to—
“Fuck. FUUUUCK,” I groan when she throws her head back and screams out my name as her cunt chokes my dick and milks my seed from me. “SIREN.”
I suck in a sharp breath as panic slams into me and I bolt upright.
More pain than I’ve ever experienced before explodes throughout my body as I move. My chest heaves, my vision blurs, and nothing makes any sense.
I was just fucking Brianna. What the fuck hap—
“Nico, fuck, calm down, man,” a familiar voice says, although it sounds like he’s at the other end of a tunnel.
“What’s going on?” I demand as the darkness starts to fade, giving way to blinding lights that make my eyes water.
“You need to calm down. Sit back, yeah?”
A warm hand lands on my shoulder before I’m shoved back onto something soft.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” But as I ask that question again, my vision begins to clear.
The stark white sheets that are covering my legs are the first thing I register right before the realisation that I’m not in my own bed.
The tube in the back of my hand is the second clue that shit isn’t right.
And then I finally look up and find myself in the middle of a fucking hospital room.
Panic slams into me much like it did when I first came to, but I can’t put my finger on why.
I don’t remember anything, or the reason why I’m here.
But something is wrong. Really fucking wrong.
“Just breathe, Nico,” that familiar voice says again. But despite it being familiar, it’s different from what I’m used to. It’s… softer.
As I twist my head to the side, pain shoots down my neck.
But it’s soon forgotten when I glance at who’s standing beside me, looking more concerned than I think I’ve ever seen him.
“Daemon?” I whisper.
“It’s good to have you back with us, man.”
“U-us?” I stutter before he jerks his chin to the other side of the room, and when I slowly turn around, my breath catches at the sight of my sister curled up on a temporary bed in the corner.
“She’s refused to leave since you got here. She’s freaking the fuck out that you might have been about to leave her, too.”
The pain in my neck pales in comparison to the ache in my chest as Daemon confesses that to me.
“Shit. No. Never. I wouldn’t,” I argue, although I have no idea how true those words are. I don’t even know why I’m here. All I do know is that it fucking hurts.
“I know,” he says confidently. “I told her that.”
A million and one things float around my head that I could really do with right now. The most obvious is that I really don’t need to be in a fucking hospital bed.
“You need anything?” he asks.
