Page 22

21

KAI

My bike roars beneath me, the sound vibrating through my body as I speed up.

Even after being on the road for over three hours, my mind continues to race with no signs of slowing down.

From what? I have no fucking clue.

The faster I push the speed, the more the tires of my bike squeal against the road, leaving a faint smell of burning rubber in its wake.

The only thing occupying my mind is Archer’s profound disconnection from the world.

From us.

Because that’s what it is.

I know him.

It’s his way of protecting himself.

He’s likely crafting a narrative in his mind, believing that by concealing this small piece of information, he is not worthy of trust.

Worthy of love.

His parents really fucked him up.

“Fuuuuck!”

The sound of my bike’s wheels grinding against the pavement fills the air as I make a sudden left turn on my way back home.

Sliding on the road, I skilfully dodge the sparse cars that roam the streets at this late hour until I finally slow down and turn onto the narrow path that leads to the house.

I shut off the engine, feeling the vibrations of the bike dissipate as I step off and head towards the entrance.

Archer’s car is parked haphazardly on the side of the house, while Elijah’s vehicle is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no need for me to go upstairs. Arch is here, and I can already hear the familiar sounds of his punches in our gym echoing through the house.

Making my way downstairs, I enter the room adjacent to the basement and lean against the doorframe. From there, I observe Arch as he unleashes powerful punches on the punching bag, the thud of his fists hitting the bag reverberating throughout the room.

Beads of sweat roll down his bruised chest, mingling with the scratches that crisscross his torso. His blood-stained hands shake with weariness as I observe his mouth beginning to swell.

“What happened to you?”

His punch is unforgiving, and he remains completely indifferent to my presence.

“Not now, Kai.”

I sigh. “Archer!”

Approaching him, I can’t help but notice his phone screen illuminating with multiple text notifications.

“No!” he shouts, his voice filled with alarm as he sees me reaching for it.

What the fuck is going on?

“Either you’re telling me what’s happening or?—”

“Or what?” He stops the punching bag from moving and glances at me. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”

“Listen. I know you’re mad about the fact we hid who Iris was, but?—”

“Iris? Do you think I’m pissed off about Iris?” He lets out a dark laugh.

“Then what?”

Shit. If he doesn’t talk, there’s nothing I can do to help him.

“Just go,” he whispers, his breath barely audible, before striding towards the super bench.

He positions himself on the bench, placing his back firmly against it, before grabbing the weights.

“Talk to me.” Feeling dismissed by his lack of attention, I take matters into my own hands and position myself on top of him. “Archer.”

Letting out a groan, he drops the weights onto the floor with a resounding thump. Suddenly, he grabs my throat with a strong grip, causing me to struggle for breath.

“I told you, not now.” His hand tightens around my throat, stifling my breath, yet a soft moan manages to escape my lips.

I love a submissive Archer, but the dominant one? Fuck.

I grab a handful of his flowing blond hair as it cascades down his shoulder, tilting my head to get a better look at him.

Right as I’m about to say something, he crashes his lips onto mine, his tongue playfully exploring my piercing while he bites down on my lips with intensity.

A groan escapes my lips as I feel warm blood trickling down my mouth, his tongue eagerly lapping at the fresh wound he inflicted, while a sharp, throbbing pain radiates from my cock.

“Take me.”

We both freeze at my words, and he shakes his head.

I’m as surprised as he is.

Archer has never taken me. Nobody ever has.

“I’ve been dreaming of hearing those words come from your mouth. But I won’t take you in this state. Not with your past.”

I feel a firm push as he forcefully moves me away, causing us to both spring up from the bench. He abruptly rises and strides towards the mirror, his gaze fixed on the bottle of water resting on the floor.

“Archer,” I call out once more, noticing the glow of his phone illuminating his face again.

Who the fuck is messaging him?

I lean towards him, but he swiftly blocks my advance, forcefully pushing me against the mirror with the sound of shattered glass echoing in the background.

Fuck.

“I told you, don’t,” he growls.

I take hold of his throat, swiftly manoeuvring us so that he is now the one pressed against the cracked mirror.

“Remove your shorts,” I command.

“Kai.”

“I said, remove your fucking shorts.”

He does slowly while I drop to my knees.

“If you don’t want to speak, I won’t force you. You had a fight tonight, and apparently, that wasn’t enough to release the pressure, so use me.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but my mouth is already exploring every inch of the flame tattoo on his dick.

He moans as my tongue licks the contour of the flame before taking him completely in my mouth.

“Fuuuck.” He grips my hair, forcing me to take him deeper.

I relax my throat, allowing him to take control as his moans fill the room.

“Fucking hell. You should get on your knees more often. That suits you.”

Wanker.

There is no mercy in his actions as he thrusts forcefully, the grip on my hair digging into my scalp like needles.

The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth is heightened by the gentle brushing against the piercing on my tongue, making my gags more intense.

With his hands firmly gripping my head, the sensation he creates feels as if his shaft is firmly lodged down my throat.

“How does it feel to have my dick so far down your throat that it takes your breath away?” he growls. With his thumb, he wipes away the drooling saliva from the corner of my mouth and instinctively brings it to his lips, sucking it away.

“There’s something incredibly exhilarating about seeing you submit to me on your knees.”

Fuck me. Dominant Arch is hot as fuck.

He thrusts a few more times, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room, before pulling out. He then forcefully grabs my hair and brings me back to my feet, only to crash his mouth onto mine.

“Take me,” he breathes against my mouth. “One day, you will feel my dick so deep in your ass that you’ll beg me to stop. But today is not the day. Take me Kai, and make me forget.”

I don’t waste a minute and pivot him to face the broken mirror. The force he exerts on his hand makes it easy to visualise the glass shards penetrating his flesh, resulting in a profusion of blood.

While pulling down my jeans, I neglect to stroke my cock, opting instead to press against his back and thrust into him, causing both of us to moan with pleasure.

“Ahhh,” he cries out.

“You want to forget. Focus on the pain then, pretty boy, because I have no intention of lubing it.”

I press my hands against his, feeling the sharp edges of the shattered glass piercing his palms as I push harder into him. The sensation of his blood dripping on my hand heightens the resonance of his cries, and fuck if this melody isn’t beautiful.

“How much do you love my cock?” I whisper in his ear. “Because my cock loves your tight ass.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He sobs.

I crash into him with a ferocity that defies reason, our bodies merging into a single, unstoppable force.

How can I miss him when I’m fucking him?

“This ass is mine. This body is mine. Your fucking mind is mine. Do you understand that?” I growl as I lick his cheek. “Your fucking body. Your soul. They all belong to me.”

I grab his hand, feeling the warmth of his blood against my palm, and lick it without a second thought, oblivious to the possibility of broken glass on my tongue.

“Shit. Fuck. Ahh.”

“Lost your words, pretty boy?”

My cock is aching for a release. It hurts.

I want more.

I need more.

The sound of my fist colliding with the mirror reverberates through the room as I forcefully punch it. Swiftly, I grab a fragment of glass and manoeuvre Archer so that he is now directly in front of me.

“What—”

His eyes fixate on my bloody hand, and a sly grin creeps into the corner of his lips.

“Are you going to bleed for me?”

With a breath, he answers, “Always. My blood is yours.”

And that’s why he’s perfect for me.

He accepted my thirst for blood without judgement, just as I accepted his need to be watched.

He’s my yin, and I am his yang.

He’s my day, and I am his night.

He’s my light, and I am his darkness.

He’s my sun, and I am his moon.

Gripping the broken piece, I raise his leg and push my cock back into his tight hole, simultaneously pressing the glass against his chest.

As I support his leg with one hand, I run my tongue along the trail of blood dripping onto his chest, causing both of us to let out a grunt.

I repeat the process on his neck, feeling the tension build as his veins throb with anticipation of the sharp glass’s touch.

“Fuuuuck,” he cries out, his head dropping back against the glass. “Take me harder. I need to come. Please,” he begs. “Kai, make me come.”

I lick his neck, ensuring that every trace of blood vanishes, before tossing the glass onto the floor and firmly grasping his cock.

The sound of our heavy breathing fills the room as sweat drips from our bodies, his hand gripping my shoulder tightly, our motions in perfect harmony as my hand moves in sync with my thrusts.

“Your ass is going to make me come so hard” I grit my teeth, overwhelmed by the sensation of my orgasm coming in force.

My hand shows no mercy, exerting more pressure as I feel the pulsating sensation of his veins, a clear sign that he’s nearing orgasm.

“I—”

With my other hand, I locate the tender spot on his neck and apply a tight grip to his Adam’s apple, causing his eyes to roll back and a silent scream to escape him.

He comes into my hand, his fingers gripping my shoulders with an intensity reminiscent of a cat’s claws, as his muffled screams struggle against my firm grasp on his airway.

I keep pouncing on him until he calms down, the sound of his heavy breaths filling the room. Pulling out of his warmth, I firmly grasp his hair and bring him to his knees.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, fully aware of what’s about to happen, and opens his mouth wide.

I don’t need to stroke my cock more than once. I’m fucking hard like stone.

That’s what he does.

His body is fucking sinful.

My primitive nature takes over as I mark him as mine, releasing onto his face, hair, and chest with a powerful growl, my eyes wide open to witness the trails of my cum streaming down his face.

“Take all of it,” I pant. “Take what’s yours.”

My orgasm feels like an eternal wave crashing over me, and he remains still as I continue to climax.

Once I calm down, his intense gaze locks onto me, his long lashes coated in my cum, as he slowly trails his fingers across his face, erasing any trace of my release before sensually bringing them to his lips.

“Mine,” he breathes out.

That makes me feral.

I lean down and collide my mouth with his, disregarding the taste of my own release on my lips.

“How do we taste?” he asks with a grin on his face.

“Perfect,” I whisper against his lips. “We taste perfect.”

The interruption comes once more by the vibration of his phone, making him sigh in annoyance as I assist him in getting up.

I’m desperately trying to hold back from asking who is harassing him, but I can tell he senses it as he hastily reaches for the towel on the floor and speaks up. “Miranda,” he breathes. “She’s the one texting and calling.”

Why in the fuck would his mother call him?

“She’s probably drunk.” He shrugs.

“Look at me.” He avoids my gaze, but I insist. “Arch, I said, look at me.”

His piercing blue eyes meet my green ones, and I can see the pain.

“She’s nothing. Do you hear me? What she says doesn’t matter.” I lean my forehead against his. “ She doesn’t matter.”

His nod is accompanied by a subtle flinch, showing that his mother’s words have intensified the pain he was already feeling.

Fucking bitch.

It’s their loss for not realising the incredible qualities that make him a remarkable man. The best I know.

They’re missing out on the kindness and unpredictability that he brings.

And they will never know.

I’ll make sure these toxic individuals are permanently kept away from him, ensuring he will never be hurt or approached by them.

They’ve done enough.

They shattered someone who didn’t deserve it, and for what purpose?

Touching what is mine is a death sentence for anyone foolish enough to try.

“Let’s freshen up and rest,” I whisper, planting a kiss on the top of his head before we make our way upstairs.

My eyes fixate on Archer, who lies on his stomach, his tousled hair partially obscuring his face, as he peacefully dozes off.

Ever since we settled down to sleep, I’ve been fully awake, my eyes straining to pierce through the encompassing darkness. It’s 7 a.m. now, and my attempts at finding slumber have been in vain.

My brain is a tangled web of jumbled thoughts.

Even with the sound turned off, his phone continued to light up throughout the night.

And again, right now.

Bloody hell.

I know I shouldn’t do it, but he’s leaving me with no choice.

Extending my arm, I snatch his phone from the bedside table and immediately start scanning his messages.

There are at least thirty of them, all in the same tone.

You’re a disgrace to this family.

I should’ve killed you when I had the possibility.

You ruined my life.

Nobody will ever want you. And why would they? You’re nothing. An insignificant little piece of shit who burns everything in his passage.

Your friends will leave you. They don’t need you. You’re just the little jester, entertaining them until they tire of their plaything.

You’re not worthy of love. And I pray each day for you to end up alone like you did to me.

I’m going to break something. I need to leave this room before my anger takes over.

What a fucking piece of shit.

Miranda is a bitch on the daily, but when she’s drunk, it’s on a whole other level.

Who does that? Harassing her own son for that kind of crap?

Inhaling deeply, I quickly transfer all the messages to my phone, making sure to delete every single one from his.

He hasn’t opened them yet, and there’s no need for him to.

Leaning in, he lets out a content sigh as I press my lips against the top of his head. “You’re worth it. And I would choose you every fucking day of my life.”

I roll out of bed and head straight for the kitchen.

I’ll need something stronger than coffee to get me through the day.

The moment I step into the kitchen, a loud shout erupts from my mouth.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

How? Purple hair is the only thing I see.

“Oh, hiya, Kale. Coffee?”

Relief. Anger. Confusion.

It’s a torrent of emotions that escape from within me.

Relief? Why the fuck would I be relieved?

Iris is seated on one of the stools around the kitchen island, sipping on iced matcha as she eats a mouthful of bakery treats.

Is she wearing one of Eli’s shirts?

Acting on instinct, I make a sudden lunge towards her, but she’s one step ahead, dodging my attempted attack.

“That’s not really nice to attack a guest, Kale.”

I manage to grab her by her throat, feeling the pressure of my grip tighten around it as Arch and Eli approach from behind.

“What’s happening?” Archer’s gun is raised, poised for action, while Elijah maintains a vigilant position just a step behind him. “Iris?”

“She’s alive,” I say, pointing at her.

She slaps my hand away, urging me to remove it, and then lets out a cough.

“No shit, Sherlock. Oh my god, where did you find them?” Her finger jabs towards Eli, and she immediately begins rubbing her neck, trying to relieve the tension.

Raising one hand, he takes a drag from his cigarette, a chuckle escaping him as he exhales. “Everyone calm down. She won’t kill any of us.”

“That’s what you say,” she mutters, sinking back into her seat and sipping her matcha.

“Iris,” he reprimands her. “I told her to come.”

“He tried to kill me… Again,” she groans.

“Whoa. Wait. You knew she was still alive, and you asked her to come here?” I raise my brow.

“She’s not the enemy.”

“Again, that’s what you say.” Elijah gives her a disapproving glare, causing her to instinctively raise her hands in defence. “Hey, I never ask to come here.” Seizing the cigarette from his hand, she takes a long drag, releasing a plume of smoke that dances and twirls between us.

He leans closer to her and kisses the top of her head. “And yet, you’re here.” He takes the cigarette back from her hand. “And that’s mine.”

“Seriously, can you stop being sweet? It’s creeping me out.”

Archer and I exchange confused glances, trying to make sense of what we’re seeing. She’s the first to realise it.

“Tell them.”

“Tell us what?” Archer asks, his gun still pointed at her, which is surprising.

“Angel, it would be much appreciated if you could drop the gun. Oh, and I brought you a matcha.” She grins, but he shakes his head.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Ugh. I promise I didn’t put anything in it.” She takes a large sip of it before handing it to him. “See?” She opens her mouth wide to show she drank everything. “Nothing.”

He drops his gun, accepts the drink she offers, and settles down in front of her.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” Eli confesses, his words hanging in the air as he remains standing. “I said I had never met her before, but that’s not accurate.”

“When did you meet her, then?” asks Arch.

Elijah sighs. “Six years ago. Remember the time when my mum sent me to the cabins for a few weeks?” We nod. I remember exactly the time. He came back… relaxed. Which was weird at the time. “That’s when I met her.”

“So, Vivianne knows her?”

“Though she never mentioned it, the fact that we ended up in the same place and time doesn’t seem like a mere coincidence.”

I’m confused as fuck. He knows her, and yet they tried to kill each other.

“You buried her alive.” I cross my arm against my chest.

Shit. My T-shirt.

Her gaze meets mine, and I can feel her scrutinising every scar and burn that adorns my torso. While my tattoos camouflage some, most of them are easily seen.

She’s the first woman to see them up close, and instead of being repulsed, she appears… intrigued.

Enemy… She’s the enemy.

Elijah lets out a deep laugh. “Yeah, I did bury her alive. I knew she would escape. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have.”

He walks towards the sink and douses his cigarette with water. My jaw clenches as I watch the ash slowly drift down into the sink.

“Try pulling a stunt like that again, and you’ll be the one pushing up daisies,” she groans.

“Elijah,” I call out.

“You stabbed me. We’re even.”

“Elijah,” I call a second time.

“Nope.”

As I’m on the verge of calling him for the third time, he finally glances at me, his eyes filled with apology, and proceeds to turn the water back on, diligently washing away the ash he had spilled in the sink.

Instantly, my brain relaxes, and I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with fresh air.

“Okay, so you know each other.” I glance at both of them. “Apparently, trying to kill each other is your foreplay, but why is she here?”

“She’s going to stay with us for a while.”

Arch and I both blurt out, “What?” our voices betraying our shock.

“There seems to be a connection between the group wanting to eliminate The Order and the ones desiring Lily’s death.”

“Who is she? Is this the reason behind your slow progress in completing this mission?” I’m confused. I need more than that.

He sighs while Iris keeps her eyes locked on us. “I’ll kill everyone that wants her dead. I know I’m not giving you all the information, and I’m asking you to trust me once more.”

I won’t ask for more details because, one, I trust him, and two, I can see the relief in Arch’s eyes as they light up. If she treats him well, that’s the most important thing, but that doesn’t mean I have to reciprocate those feelings. If she hurts him, she will quickly find herself in Lucifer’s realm.

“I’m curious, Poison. How did you manage to escape and end up wearing Elijah’s shirt?”

“Hmm.” She chews on her biscuit. “I had some help. In fact, I thought Angel was the one who would save me, but it turned out I was mistaken.” I glance at Eli, and she chuckles. “It wasn’t this fucker, either. And as for the why I’m wearing his shirt… Tell them,” she winks at him.

“You’re trouble,” he mumbles. “Iris and I have been involved in the past.”

“Such as?” asks Arch, really interested now.

“Sexually.”

Wait. Did they sleep together under our roof? No, he said in the past.

“Kinky,” chuckles Arch. “I mean, I’m all for the fucking my stepsister kinda vibes.”

“Tell them,” she insists.

“I’m the best fuck she’s ever had, and she looks hot with my collar and leash, crawling to me.” He says mechanically, his voice devoid of any emotion, as if he were merely mimicking her words.

My face loses all colour as I replay in my mind the words she uttered in the basement.

I’m certain she orchestrated his words to provoke a reaction from me. Judging by the way she gazes at me, I’d say she’s quite content with the outcome.

“Fuck. Me,” murmurs Arch. “Can we keep her?”

“I’m not a pet, Angel.” She stands up and plants a kiss on his cheek. “But, yeah. You’re going to have me for a few days.”

“Weeks.”

“Days.”

“Weeks.”

“Elijah. Don’t be a fucking pain. I have a life, thank you very much.”

“You kill people,” I point out.

“So do you,” she winks at me. She leans towards me and whispers in my ear. “We’re going to have so much fun together, Kale.”

I grab her hair instinctively and lean her head closer to mine. “Do one suspicious thing, and you won’t like the outcome.”

She licks her lips and murmurs. “Way to turn me on. I love a good punishment.” With a sudden jolt, I let go of her hair as if it scorched my fingertips.

Elijah clears his throat. “Could you show her to her room, Arch?”

He doesn’t waste a second and leaves the kitchen with Iris behind him.

“How are you feeling?”

“You mean after the bomb you just dropped?”

“Well, you seemed tense before that, and I know I added more to it.” He pauses for a second and adds, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t touch any of your stuff or enter your room.”

As if it’ll stop her.

“But seriously, how’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” I shake my head. “Actually, no.” I pull out my phone from my pocket to show him.

He curses under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did he see them?”

“No,” I breathe. “He knows she sent them. His phone has been vibrating since last night, but he hasn’t opened any of them.”

“If you have them, I guess you deleted them.”

“Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not. I would’ve done the same. But if those messages keep popping up, this is going to be an issue. He doesn’t deserve any of this, and if I have to take care of this myself, I will.”

We should have taken action a while back. If we didn’t, it was because of his brothers.

But they’re twenty-one and twenty-two now.

We check on them often, making sure they are safe and well. We made sure that Isaac and Rowan were removed from this toxic environment, ensuring they would be far away from any harm. We cover all expenses related to their education and everything that comes with it. The boys are just as undeserving of this situation as Archer.

“I know you’re not pleased with Iris being here, and I don’t expect you to be welcoming, but she could have a positive impact on Arch.”

“You don’t know that.”

He arches his brow but says nothing. He knows, without a doubt, that I am fully aware of his correctness.

She’s fucking unhinged, and yet Arch is fascinated by her.

“You know they’re going to fuck, right?”

“I know.”

“That’s it?”

“Sharing a woman never used to bother you.”

A deep laugh escaped me. “Yeah, I won’t touch her. You can have it.”

A smirk forms on the corner of his lips. “Okay.”

“Fuck off, Crim.”

Just as I’m about to leave the kitchen, his voice cuts through the air, freezing me in place. “Where are you going?”

“To the parlour.”

Drowning myself in ink is the only way to clear my mind right now.