Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Something inhuman.
Something magnificent.
When all this began, I saw it as my duty to uphold the contract Logan was bound to by blood. “Sometimes blood has to be pushed into doing the right thing,” Old Terror always said, and he pushed me plenty, so I pushed Logan, trapping him, as he said, wanting to possess him out of obligation to my family.
That’s not how I felt when I saw him at breakfast.
I’ve tried to convince myself it’s because he’s had my seed inside him, but that can’t be true because I’ve killed guys who’ve swallowed me before, and they meant nothing. Seeing Logan worshipping my cock was different. It might’ve been one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. Still, it’s not enough to explain this irritation he’s triggered within me, gnawing at me like a feral wolf.
The morning light filters through the windowpanes along the greenhouse walls and ceiling, illuminating the vibrant green hues of my companions, as well as the red, pink, blue, and purple of the fresh, healthy blooms. The birds that inhabit the enclosed space flutter between branches and the creepy ivory cherubs. A finch I call Willie pecks at the bird feeder, and a chickadee and wren bristle their feathers in the nearby birdbath. They’re so peaceful, enjoying the sanctuary, no longer aware of all the dangers lurking beyond the safety of these glass walls. It settles my heart as I come to Dad’s white roses, which I begin pruning. These were always his favorite. I’m clipping a few to take to him, when the greenhouse door opens.
My brother Rage saunters in, in only a pair of short swimming trunks, his hair damp, his nipples perked up. As much as I want to be alone right now, I’m hoping he can distract me from my wayward thoughts.
“Chilly for a swim this morning?” I say.
“Just how I like it.”
As he approaches, he’s smirking, like he’s been up to some mischief.
“Good night?” he presses. He must already know the answer.
“I’m guessing you heard about our visitor.”
“Heard about? I saw you getting head and that Wilde tearing the other guy apart. Better than porn.”
I shoot him a glare as he settles about a foot from me. I don’t like that he watched either of those things, but with Rage…well, he’s gonna do whatever the fuck he wants. And I’ve learned you can only beat the tar out of someone so much before surrendering.
He sidles up beside me, a little too close, before draping his arm across my shoulders. “I almost went to give your future husband some company, but he seemed real tuckered out from all the killing.”
A flash of rage and ringing in my ears—I’m barely thinking as I discard the pruning shears. I turn, fists clenched, and he jumps back.
“Whoa, whoa, I’m just giving you hell, man. Can’t you take a joke?”
“Not this morning.”
He rolls his eyes as I take a swing. He dodges it, but I keep coming at him, this part of me that won’t be satisfied until I land one. This isn’t about getting him back; it’s about quieting the discomfort in me, though I know the relief this will give me will be so brief, like getting that amazing blowjob from Logan. No pleasure ever gives relief for very long.
While I issue a few more swings, Rage laughs, dodging until I snatch his arm, then his throat, stilling him in place. “You ever touch Logan, and I’ll tear this pretty face right off.”
“Gee, bro. You think I’m pretty?” he strains to say. “Shucks.” The word is barely audible as I crush down on his windpipe.
It’s impossible to stay mad at Rage, even when he’s unbearable, so I take a measured breath and release him.
“Was that the best you got?” he asks.
“If you want to play, just let me know.”
His amused expression shifts to panic. Even Rage knows when he’s about to take things one step too far.
“Aw, come on. Why are you in such a mood this morning? Last night seemed great. I got off twice, once more than you.”
His question tugs at that heaviness within me, weighing on me like a slab of stone, steadily compacting against my chest. I fetch my discarded shears off the ground and return to pruning. “Just grappling with the idea of becoming a married man.”
“Frustrated that this is the only man you’ll be fucking from now on?” he asks, and at my look, he says, “Kidding. I assume you’ll both be fucking plenty of other people.”
Evidence that he hasn’t reinstalled any audio devices around the house.
“No,” I say.
He flinches. “Excuse me?”
“If we’re married, then we’re just each other’s. I made that clear to Logan.”
“No wonder you guys haven’t sealed the deal. Why would you do that?”
“It’s in the agreement.”
“For when it was about Mom and Dad. No one cares about fidelity anymore. Plenty of people are married and having polyamorous relationships. It’s not a big deal.”