Page 18

FRAGILE HEARTS

The Hunter

The fire from the stone hearth casts a warmth in the otherwise cold room, heating all of our frozen bodies. It’s well-needed.

Celine is downstairs, cooking something up for us all to eat.

It was such a long time ago we had a normal, tasty meal.

We were deprived of it all because of the little traitor currently lying before the stone hearth, once again wrapped in silk, but at least a winter jacket functions as a mattress for her.

But I wouldn’t really go back in time and change it.

For years, she was the only light at the end of a tunnel.

When our parents cast us aside, not giving us the attention two lonely children needed, Isolde was always there.

Her presence was a balm against my burning soul.

Her smile healed something within me I didn’t know needed to be healed.

She saved me and Celine from our inner demons, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure she is saved.

Protected. Loved. We may not deserve her, but I will do anything to make sure we are worthy of her again.

It’s been two hours since we got back from the forest, and I’m fucking bored waiting for Celine to be done, and for Isolde to wake up.

Sweat trickles down her temple, and I decide she’s warm enough. There’s no time in the world where we will be able to get back the time we lost with her, but I will sure as fuck fight for it for the rest of my life.

Thanks to ‘Casper’s’ letter, we’ll be able to stay in Vexglade with our new identities that hide who we truly are. Him helping us remove all charges as the police deputy has made it possible as well. We’re finally free.

Walking up to Isolde, I crouch down, tugging at the silk wrapped around her. I make it trail over her clit, causing her to shiver gently in her sleep. But she still doesn’t wake.

Deciding I’ve had enough of being bored, I spot the baseball bat leaning against the wall and go up to grab it. Gently spreading her legs with my feet, I gently ease the baseball into her. She stirs in her sleep, eyes flying open.

“F-fuck,” she exclaims.

She tries to move away, but the silk prevents her from moving. “You tied me up again?” she exclaims.

“I’m sorry. We can’t trust you. Yet, ” I smirk.

I lean in, tugging on her nipples, watching the arousal escape her. She loves the pain as much as I love causing it.

The flames crackle, adding to the heightened warmth in her. Isolde’s cheeks are flushed red from the heat when I lean closer, removing her shirt.

I take her in. So gorgeous and so mine.

She won’t get away from us now.

I lost her once. I won’t lose her again.

As I lean in to tug her nipple into my mouth, I catch her writhing beneath me. A soft and delicate moan escapes her, fragile and breakable.

Her expressions morph into one of horror as her arousal grows, and I use it as lube on the bat. Then, I take it out and line it against her ass. Her entire body instantly tenses.

“No—Vernon, what are you doing?” She leans up on her elbows as good as she can with the silk ribbons restricting her movements.

“Making you scream,” I reply with a curled smirk, gently pushing the bat inside her ass, not waiting for her complaints.

She loves this—I know it in the way she moans out, arching her back. The way she squirms, cries out, and screams from the intrusion, panting, but I can’t tell if it’s from her emotions or the heat. Probably both.

“Fuck, Vernon,” she moans, trying to get away.

I tug on her nipple harder, making her moan louder, giving her the ecstasy she doesn’t really deserve.

“I love the way you scream my name. Scream louder for me,” I command, thrusting the baseball bat in and out of her in a rapid pace that leaves wetness gushing out of her.

Her chest is heaving with each moan, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

I don’t like it at all, the loss of contact with her. She’s mine. Her attention is supposed to be on me!

“Don’t you dare look away from me. Give me those sinful eyes, Isolde,” I order. She instantly obeys.

Such a good fucking girl.

I continue fucking her with the bat, adding a finger in her sweet pussy that makes her moan even louder.

There’s a loud clatter of porcelain being laid upon stone, and I look back to find Celine staring at Isolde, coming closer.

As soon as Isolde hears Celine’s heels clicking against the floor, she stiffens.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Celine smirks.

“But—”

“Come on now. Show my brother how beautiful you look when you fall apart.”

“I’ve already seen her,” I snap back.

Celine’s right before us now. “I’ve made her come more times than you ever will.”

Isolde’s breath catches, and she goes very still, as if she has turned to stone. I watch her eyes flicker to Celine, then back to me, until her gaze settles on the baseball bat between her legs. Her cheeks flush a deep, tender shade of red as she tries to shift away.

“Can you not right now?” she breathes, more embarrassed than anything.

I nod, but the tension inside me snaps and I plunge the bat inside her one final time, pinching her clit with my other hand. Those sensations, along with Celine staring at Isolde like she were a meal to be devoured, throw her right over the edge, and she comes crashing down.

“You come so beautifully,” I lean up, claiming her lips for the first time since she left us three years ago.

She’s reluctant at first, but quickly gives in, allowing my tongue to prod her lips. Biting her lip, satisfaction fills me as beads of blood escape, and I lap every single one of them up.

“I-I…” she tries to get out, and I can practically see the war raging inside her head. Her thoughts take over her mind, until that’s the only thing she can think of. I know she’s trying to make sense of this entire situation, but there’s no making sense of it.

It just is. Like it was always supposed to be.

“We’re back together, that’s all that matters,” I whisper against her swollen lips.

Isolde’s chest still rises and falls in uneven bursts, but her gaze is slowly turning distant. Unfocused. I stroke her cheek, but she doesn’t even unconsciously lean into it like she used to. Something is wrong.

Celine seems to notice the change in the atmosphere, too, as she crouches down beside us.

Her hand lands on Isolde’s thigh, but Isolde flinches away, crawling as far away as she can with the ribbons still tied around her.

“I can’t stay like this,” Isolde finally whispers, her voice raw. Exhausted.

My eyebrows furrow, heart sinking. “What?”

Isolde sits up slowly, the flames flickering around her and casting a fiery glow on her damp skin.

“What do you mean, baby?” Celine prompts.

“I can’t be with you. Not after everything you’ve done. Do you have any idea of how terrified I’ve been the past three years? And now, with you back, killing even more. I can’t be with a murderer. I refuse to.”

“Is this some post-climax guilt talking?” Celine asks, yet concern laces her words. She reaches behind her to grab a blanket, offering it to Isolde.

Isolde grabs it, wrapping herself in it as if it could physically shield her from us.

My heart plummets to the fucking floor at the devastated look on her face. A tortured soul. “But we killed them all for your sake.”

“No,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. “You killed them for your sake. For your own twisted obsession with me. You killed Casper to prove a point. To make me yours. I can’t stand you. You need to let me go.”

“We can’t do that,” Celine says, but it sounds as if she’s on the verge of crying.

My strong, cunning sister who has never shed a single tear in her entire life.

“I could never forgive you for everything you have done. I could never love you the way you think you love me. I need you to let me go.”

There’s so much conviction in her voice. She’s completely serious.

Emotions rage a war inside me, winding from anger at her words and turning into a palpable panic that forces its way through my blood system. Staring wide-eyed, I realize there’s only one way out of this predicament.

Because yes, while we could force her to stay with us forever—lock her up in this castle and never let her out—what good would it be if she hated our guts? If she couldn’t even bear the sight of us? Flinching away every time we would touch her?

Lead settles in my stomach as I come to the conclusion; all I want is for her to be happy with me . Us. But that is not possible if she doesn’t choose to stay with us on her own accord. We will never own her heart if she doesn’t give it away freely.

Despite the restraints, Isolde manages to stand up on her trembling feet, staring down at us with an odd look on her face I can’t quite decipher. “Please…forget about me.”

“Do you remember when we used to sneak out of our rooms at night so our parents wouldn’t hear?” I scramble to say, my voice quiet. “We’d sit together under the porch just to hear the rain pouring down, huddled up in that too-small blanket only really fitting one person.”

There’s a melancholy expression on her face as a small, sad smile twitches her lips. She nods.

“You said the rain sounded like a wall of protection,” Isolde murmurs.

A light chuckle escapes me at the memory.

“I remember that one time you hit your head on the low stairs and started crying. Your tears were so beautiful yet broke my heart all the same. You ran into Celine’s arms just so she could hold you, and I got you another blanket and a pack of ice because you refused to go inside. ”

“I did love the sound of rain.”

Celine shifts closer, a haunted look on her face.

Something small and fragile. “You then said it would be us forever. That the rain would protect us all and wash away the evil in the world,” she takes a shuddering breath.

“I still think about that. I know we haven’t been good for you.

I know that. But you promised it would be us. Always.”

A kind of silence follows Celine’s words, thick and insufferable.

“Some things aren’t forgivable,” Isolde replies with a hard expression, but there’s a broken edge to her tone.

Celine’s gaze drops. “That time, you also said that rain was the tears of one’s soul. That beneath the sky, under the downpour, everything could be forgiven.”

Isolde looks out the window—the snow lying heavy, like a thick blanket of ice draped over the world. “It’s not raining now, is it?”

The room feels colder after her words, as if the temperature has suddenly dropped, and my heart is crushing underneath the suffocating weight.

Both Celine and I are too stunned at the turn of events, the flames flickering and the wind raging outside being the only sound filling the tension. Isolde turns around, seemingly stiff with her shoulders haunched and unsure if she even can leave us.

“Please, don’t leave,” Celine scrambles to say, her voice pleading and almost breaking at the last word. I’ve never heard her so emotional before, and it causes a lump in my throat. “We’re sorry for everything—”

“A sorry won’t fix anything.”

She glances at the food Celine made for us, then turns her back on it, too. The shadows pull her into their hidden depths. “I need air,” she says at last.

I know she will be back. She just needs a few minutes to clear her head before we go looking for her again.

But when we do, she’s gone.

As if she had disappeared like a ghost.