What the fuck was that? Nothing happened at thirteen minutes past anything. It was a void time, a time when I should have been deep into the cathartic part of my workout not wandering the church like a fucking wraith.
I swiped a hand over my face as I tried to calm myself, but as I looked down at my palm I found fresh blood coating my fingers from my fucking nose where that bitch had punched me.
The voices were getting loud now, the echoes which haunted me, chased me, infected me.
It’s too late now, you’ve lost the fight today.
Better to let the demons take charge.
Better to just give in…
I cranked Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake up loud enough to drown everything else out, trying to let it calm me, searching for myself in the peace of it but only finding any solace in the darker parts of the composition.
I expelled a harsh breath and ripped my clothes off before stepping straight into the shower in my en-suite and turning it on. I flipped the dial around so that stone cold water crashed down over my body, pressing my palms to the tiles as I stared down at the water swirling around my feet. It was tinged red with blood from my nose which only made my pulse pound harder.
Shivers wracked my flesh, but it wasn’t the cold. It was the demon in me aching to break free. It was the fury in me needing an outlet. It was the combination of every hateful, vengeful, corrupted, tarnished piece of my rotten soul demanding retribution.
I was losing it. I could feel my grip slipping and the break coming. And if I broke, there was no telling what it would take to rein me back in.
The last time, Kyan and Blake had practically had to chain me down to stop me from spilling blood. And I wasn’t talking about the kinds of wounds that could heal.
But this time, Kyan wasn’t with me. He was against me. And all because of a fucking girl. A girl we’d chosen to share so that nothing like this would ever happen to us and yet-
Tchaikovsky died a sudden and brutal death, but I wasn’t gifted silence over the speakers. No. What poured down on me, assaulting my ears and shattering what little control I had left was Eminem – My Name Is blaring through my sound system loud enough to bust a fucking eardrum.
A tremor tumbled through my flesh and I wasn’t even sure how I ended up out of the shower but it continued to run behind me, water racing away down the drain into the abyss with the last fragile pieces of my self control.
I crossed my room, snatched a pair of sweatpants out of my closet and yanked them on, damn near running out of my en-suite and down the stairs.
Kyan was waiting at the foot of them in a pair of shorts which left his tattoos bare to taunt me, the devil on his chest seeming to mirror my own desires perfectly as it bathed in the suffering of others. Kyan’s eyes were alight with that thirst which ruled him as he waited to see what punishment he’d earned with this latest assault on my sanity and I was more than ready to unleash my worst on him.
“Your sweatpants are inside out,” he taunted, his eyes dancing with glee and I glanced down, ready to correct him except somehow, unthinkably he was right.
My vision darkened as he barked a laugh and I felt myself snap as the last shreds of my control shattered.
If he wanted pain then he could have it. I’d give him a fucking feast.
I roared at him as I launched myself off of the stairs and slammed into his hard chest before tackling him to the ground.
I punched and punched him, my mind writhing and tempestuous like a stormy sea as I gave in to my baser nature and acted like the animal he was.
Kyan barked a laugh like this was all some fucking game to him and I bellowed at him before throwing my fist straight into his face.
I caught him in the mouth and he lurched back in surprise, his head knocking back against the floor as he spat a wad of blood right onto the fucking carpet before throwing his head forward in an attempt to break my fucking nose. I avoided the blow by jerking aside, but a moment later his knuckles were slamming into my side with