Page 48 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Sebastian

I needed this fight. Needed to feel flesh split and bones break beneath my fists. But I wasn’t fighting, instead I was forced to watch because Langdon needed it more.

He didn’t fight often, but when he did he was quick, his movements like dancing. If he had working vocal cords, his taunts and chuckles would be heard above the violence. Instead, he’d settle for frantically signing, knowing usually only I and Caden could understand his words.

Arabella watched beside me, reacting to every hit as if it had been personal. A particularly hard blow knocked Lang into the ropes, and Arabella flinched, as if she’d felt it.

“He’s playing,” I assured her. “Pretending he’s weaker than he is, so he can draw his opponent into a false sense of security before he strikes.”

Arabella didn’t seem particularly pleased with my explanation. “Is this safe for him to do this so soon? He looks like he’s losing.” She wore a new dress, a deep gold colour that framed her curves perfectly and kept drawing my attention to her rather than the fight.

I returned my attention to the ring, able to read Langdon’s enjoyment from his movements. Even if he lost, he would’ve been able to release some of his frustrations. He never cared whether he won or not, and often asked to go against men twice his size just for the thrill.

The bell dinged to finish the round, and Langdon grinned, his teeth red with blood.

“He just called his opponent the ‘syphilitic remains of a gangbang.’”

“A what?” Arabella snorted.

She looked stunning beside me, and I glared at the men whose eyes hovered on her for far too long. “Come here,” I said, waiting to see whether she’d follow the order.

She pursed her lips, sliding across until she could settle with her back against my chest. I didn’t understand what made me feel so anchored with her weight on my lap, when anyone else would’ve turned me violent.

“Are you fighting?” she asked, always so full of questions.

“Not tonight.” Despite losing a chunk of product in the fire, in the past few days there had been two more OD’s, and each one pointed to my powder. We may have stopped anymore from being tainted, but I didn’t know how long Margot had been fucking with my existing supply.

“Why do you do it?” Arabella asked quietly. “Langdon said you got your name in the underground fights.”

“Langdon has a big fucking mouth.”

“So that’s how you gained the name Beast?” she wondered, seeming quietly excited by my answer.

“Among other reasons,” I said, brushing my fingers down her exposed arms. “I fight because I enjoy it.” When I didn’t elaborate, she wrinkled her nose. “I find it calming.”

“Calming?”

“Hmm,” I hummed. “When I’m in the ring, I can ignore the outside noise.

Nothing else matters other than my opponent.

” I’ve always found it hard to shut everything else off, when my demons howled and my nightmares threatened.

It was constant, like a violent buzz beneath my skin. Until I met her, at least.

“Is that why you don’t sleep? Because of the noise in your head?”

“You been watching me, belle ?” She rolled her eyes, laughing when I pulled her tighter against me. “You going to behave tonight?”

“Do I have a choice?”

I pressed my mask against her ear. “We all have a choice, and you made yours by sitting on my lap.” My erection ached, throbbing against my zipper. It was a fucking nuisance, and if I had my way, I’d already be home painting her skin in various shades before making her come repeatedly.

But other than supporting Lang, there was another reason I had to be seen tonight. I needed to appear unaffected by those fucking rumours. As not to be seen as weak.

At the moment they were somewhat contained, but I knew how quickly those devious whispers could spread.

“So if I so choose , I could walk out that door and never come back?”

“Yes, if you want your father’s blood on your hands.” I pinched her chin, forcing her gaze to mine. “I’ve told you before, belle . You’re mine . ”

“Until the debt is paid,” she shot back. “So tell me, how much have I actually paid off?”

“Nothing.”

Annoyance darkened her eyes, and I smiled slow and cruel beneath my mask.

“You’re not even pretending there’s a way out, are you?” she huffed.

“You made a choice. You knew exactly what you were agreeing to when you took his place.” I brushed a thumb along her jaw.

“I agreed to pay off his debt.” She jerked her head away. “How can I if you won’t let me?”

“You don’t get to play the victim, belle .” There was no arrogancy in my words, just the truth. “You gave yourself to save him. Which makes you mine until I decide otherwise.”

Arabella

An ember of anger sparked to life beneath my skin, but before I could make everything worse Caden appeared at our side, kneeling beside Sebastian. His words were lost against the general noise of the room, but his face was severe. Angry, which was his generic expression if I was being honest.

With a nod Sebastian went to stand, sliding me off his thighs before pinning me with his gaze.

“I’ll behave,” I whispered, ignoring how my lungs tightened behind my ribs.

What was even more frustrating was that I found myself tracking him across the floor, his presence like a hurricane tearing through my soul.

There were moments of calm, when he revealed a little bit about himself, making him seem almost human.

At the way he showed little bits of vulnerability through his art, something I was sure he’d never shown anyone else.

He’d been more than human the other night, the fear in his expression real before he’d blinked and replaced it with black rage. He’d painted for hours, and each second I’d been there, silently watching the pain he was pushing onto the canvas.

Then the moment would pass, and his eyes would hold me hostage, reminding me how little control I had. It was made worse by the ache between my thighs, at how warmth spread through me when he held me in a bruising grip. How he seemed to centre himself just by touch.

At first, I believed I was giving up my control entirely, but I’d come to realise that there was power in that loss.

That by trusting Sebastian with my body, trusting him to know whether to push or when to pull, was a type of control in itself.

It was an illusion that gave me peace, the not needing to think or worry about day to day because Sebastian would deal with it, and in return he used that need for dominance to calm his emotions.

The ones he’d buried so deep, they came back to haunt him.

I found myself no longer swiping expensive trinkets to hide beneath my bed or sketching every possible exit in my notebook of the penthouse. And when he spoke of retaliation against the people who’d nearly killed Langdon and me, I wasn’t as horrified as I should’ve been.

Before, I would have protested, even begged him not to choose violence. Now… I wasn’t so sure. Because when he spoke of vengeance, his reasoning made sense in a way that unsettled me.

We seemed to be existing in this strange, shifting balance. Dark and intimate. Yet somehow it made me feel… whole. Like I fit into a space I hadn’t known I’d been searching for. And that scared the hell out of me.

Fear rippled through the crowd as Sebastian walked amongst them, and I watched him until he disappeared through a door on the other side .

“I wouldn’t recommend running this time, Miss Grey,” Miles warned, coming to stand guard beside me.

“Don’t have on the right trainers tonight, Miles?”

He blinked at me, clearly unamused with my joke. “I’ll be your shadow until Mr Devereaux comes back.”

“Ah, so you’re my latest prison guard. There’s me thinking you’re here to just keep me company.”

Miles’s expression tightened, his eyes darting to the side before returning to me. “I’m whatever Mr Devereaux asks me to be.”

I didn’t grace him with a reply, instead trying to distract myself from the vicious fight in the centre by studying the crowd instead. I really didn’t understand how people could get joy out of watching two grown men scrap at each other.

Clearly, I was in the minority, because the audience became fevered the more blood that spilled, even if it soaked against Langdon’s long-sleeved shirt.

He was beautiful in the way he moved, but he was a tease.

Egging his opponent on with little skips and smirks.

Twisting out the way at the last minute before rapidly signing what I assumed were creative insults.

Despite reading through the BSL book twice, I couldn’t understand a single hand gesture.

Langdon took a particularly hard hit, his head whipping violently to the side. Unable to watch any longer I jumped to my feet.

Miles caught my upper arm in a bruising grip. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“I need to pee, or is that not allowed?”

“Careful with the attitude,” he growled.

“Get off my arm, Miles,” I warned, the urge to lash out curling my fingers into a fist. Except my knuckles still ached from where I’d struck Lang. “Sebastian gets jealous.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to upset your owner.” He released me, my skin pulsing as blood rushed back. “You’ll have to use the other bathroom; this one is out of order.”

“Sure.” He was my shadow as I passed through the doors into the main club.

The atmosphere was electric, the lights dimmed and the music loud.

I wasn’t so out of place this time, my dress fitting in with the others.

But I could still feel curious eyes tracking me as I made my way towards the bathroom at the back of the room.

Something grabbed my arm, and before I could react, I was pulled to the side. I turned, ready to fight.

All the blood left my face. “Dad?” It took me a moment for my muscles to unlock before I threw myself at him. “How are you? Are you okay?” A thousand questions bubbled, and then my stomach dipped. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Easy…” Miles warned before Dad untangled himself from my arms.

“Just give us a minute.” I expected him to haul me away, but Miles simply nodded before stepping to the side. “Please.”

Miles pursed his lips. “Two minutes.”

Dad waited until Miles had stepped away, pulling me closer to his table. “We don’t have much time.” Picking up a drink, he handed it over. “Here, drink and smile before we draw attention.”

I gripped the glass hard enough to break. “Why are you here? This isn’t safe.”

“I’ve worked out protection for us,” he continued quietly. “I have a plan.”

“What do you mean you have a plan?” Dad looked unwell, his eyes sunken, and he’d definitely lost some weight. There was even a yellowed bruise along his jaw, turning his skin a sickly shade. “Dad? ”

“Trust me, Ara, we’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. I promise, I can fix this.”

Dad’s eyes moved behind me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until Miles’s patience ran out. I pushed us further into the shadowed corner.

“Smile,” he hissed, clinking his glass against mine. “Drink, pretend you’re enjoying yourself.”

I took a mouthful, the alcohol burning as it went down. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned in, voice low and razor-sharp. “You’re going to kill him.”

My blood froze, and a tightness gripped my chest. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Dad’s brows pulled together, his jaw locked in a hard line. “You agreed to take my place.”

“I never agreed to hurt him,” I snapped, the glass shaking slightly in my hand.

“Keep your fucking voice down,” he snarled, dipping his head closer. “Stop acting like a saint. You’ll do what you need for us. All you have to do is gain his trust before you can strike. I’ve set up–”

“No, stop it.”

“You’ll do this for me,” he said, voice cracking in desperation. “And then we’ll have no debt. The money we’ve been offered for his head is life changing, Ara. We’ll finally be free.”

I tried to place the drink down, but Dad gripped my wrist. “For how long, Dad? You might be free, until the next time you lose big. My entire life has always been fixing your addiction; even before Mum died you’d borrow money from bad people, and then leave it for us to suffer the consequences.”

I’d witnessed him be beaten up for not paying on time since I was little, and when he wasn’t home, the men that came to our house took it out on my mum instead.

Years I’d had to hide, clamping my hands over my ears to dampen the screams. Every time he’d come home with gifts, begging for forgiveness. Saying he’d never do it again, only for him to go out the next day.

This was your fault, Bella.

My mum’s voice in my memory was always harsh, cutting as if she’d swallowed broken glass.

He’s like this because of you.

Why did you have to be born?

“You spoilt bitch. Everything I’ve ever done is for you. Every tournament, every fucking game was so you had food on the table, clothes on your back and a goddamn roof over your head.” His fingers tightened, nails digging in. “You owe me.”

“No.” My voice croaked, and I tried tugging my wrist free. “I don’t. Not anymore. Not since I gave over my life to save yours.”

His expression turned vicious. “You think you’re worth anything more than a whore who spreads her legs?”

I flinched, tears burning until I rapidly blinked them away.

“You’re exactly like your mother. So fucking weak, and when I get–”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” Caden cut in coldly, stepping in from behind.

Before my father could react, Caden grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back. The sudden movement jerked me forward with them until my father finally let go of my wrist, only for the rest of my drink to tip down my front.

You’re only good as payment.

My chest heaved, soaked and shaking, but not from the cold .

Dad stumbled backward and would’ve gone straight to the floor if Caden hadn’t caught him. “Get off me!” he snarled, trying to wrench himself free.

“Yeah, I don’t think I will.” Caden snapped Dad’s finger, his wail a high-pitched screech. “Bit stupid to touch Beast’s property, Morris.”

“Dad, just go.” My voice came out cold, detached. I set the empty glass down, my hand shaking. “Please.”

“I’ll handle this,” Caden said to me, his eyes dipping to where the alcohol had darkened the gold of my dress. “You go clean up before Sebastian gets back.”

I nodded, feeling numb. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Caden grinned. “Don’t worry, we’re just going to have a friendly chat.” He turned to Dad. “Isn’t that right, mate?”