Unrequited

I staggered all the way to my base. Twice, I almost succeeded in tripping over my own foot, nearly landing on my face.

The walls were my guide until my door came into view. Before long, I was staggering inside, damp with sweat and still trembling all over.

I pushed in all the locks, then, with my back against the door, slid down, clutching at the sharp, throbbing scar at the back of my neck.

*...Human... don't close your eyes.*

*Let us see your fear...*

I buried my face between my knees, eyes wide as I stared at the gray tiles. I thought it was over. Now they were here, wanting a merge. Why?

The West had the highest population of humans. Could that be why? Did Jordan know about this? I doubted it. If he did, he would have told me.

And they were contemplating agreeing to it. Even though Alexei didn't, he was just a drop in a sea of decisions.

If that happened, I wouldn't be able to breathe without looking over my shoulder. What now? Go back to Jordan? No, I couldn't go back to Jordan. I could never go to Jordan.

A firm knock on the door had my breath catching in my throat. I waited.

"Theodore, it's Vidar. Open up."

The concern in his voice was unmistakable, but now wasn't the time. Vidar's intensity always left me weak. I was never ready for him.

"Theodore."

"Go back," I said, my head resting against the door. "You're needed out there. I'm fine."

But the last thing Vidar would ever do was listen to me. It was as though he was allergic to following orders.

He pounded this time. "One more time, and I swear I'll take this damn door off its hinges."

I gritted my teeth. He could. He would.

So, standing up with trembling fingers that were next to useless, I unlocked the door, pulling away so my back was turned before he walked in.

Vidar didn't waste time. The second the door was open, he was inside, shutting it behind him with a deliberate click.

I could feel him behind me—warm, solid, too damn present. His gaze was heavy on my back, but I refused to turn around. If I did, he'd see too much. He always did.

He waited for seconds in silence before he spoke, his quiet baritone raising my defenses.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Theodore."

I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the nearest chair for stability. "I said I'm fine, Vidar. You can leave now."

I felt him move, the floorboards creaking under his weight. The next second, his hand was on my shoulder—firm, grounding. My body jerked at the touch.

"You're shaking," he murmured.

I wrenched away, attempting to pull back, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me.

Then he gave me that look. The one that said, *I'm trying really hard not to argue with you right now.*

"What happened at the Academy?" he asked quietly.

I steadied my gaze, looking at him head-on. "Nothing."

"You weren't there when I checked." His voice was too calm. Too even. "Did this happen at the Academy? Where did you go?"

"Give it up. I said nothing happened!"

It happened in an instant. He yanked me forward, drawing down the collar of my shirt. His knuckles brushed past the scar at the side of my neck.

Vidar went still.

For a moment, there was no sound—no breath, no movement, nothing but the tensed silence coiling between us.

"Fangs," he muttered before pulling back, away from me. He sighed, then raked his fingers through his hair. "Where were—"

"It doesn't matter."

"IT FUCKING MATTERS!" He turned, glaring at me. "You'd rather die than tell me a fucking thing. Every damn thing, I had to find out myself! And when I did, you ran."

I tried not to flinch. Now wasn't the time for those memories, but Vidar wouldn't let me be.

"You were eighteen. All my life, you were my brother! What would you have me do?"

"But he wasn't your uncle, right?" His fist clenched. "He was Father's brother! But it didn't deter—"

I didn't think it over. My fist shot out, slamming hard against the side of his face.

His head barely even snapped back, but my knuckles throbbed. I barely felt the pain. Instead, my gut churned even harder.

I wanted to throw up… at the memories… I wanted to erase myself.

Before he could focus on me again, I dashed off into the bathroom. Dropping to my knees, I retched my guts into the toilet bowl.

My body spasmed, my eyes filled up as every last bit of my strength drained out of me. I felt like I was dying.

Minutes passed, and still not feeling his presence, I concluded he was gone. So, without a concern in the world, I curled up on the bathroom floor, clutching my stomach as I focused on breathing.

My sight blurred. I hit him... I didn't want to...

I wanted to die.

But then the shadow spilled into the room, and I felt his hands picking me up as though I weighed nothing.

I can hear his booth against the tile floor, but without a sense of direction is hard to tell where we were going.

Finally he stopped and lowered me, my skin touching hard cold ceramic, and in seconds, I felt the water enveloping me, swallowing my body whole.

Vidar went for my buttons.

"No." My fingers curled weakly around his wrist. "Don't..."

Vidar waited eyes scanning mine in a challenge, when I faltered, he shook my hand off and continued with buttons. After that, he picked up the hem of my turtleneck and took it off me.

I stole a peek at his face as he glared at the hickeys on my body, then shut my eyes. This was what I had been avoiding. The confrontation that would come with it.

But he said nothing. Instead, sitting on the edge of the tub, he poured water over me, dampening my hair.

The silence between us felt like thorns, but I had gotten so used to pain—craved it too much—to even flinch.

The calm façade was my wall. It was what kept me sane.

"No one ever hurt me like you did," Vidar muttered, his thumb caressing my cheekbone. "I've got scars, millions of them, but none pained like you do, brother."

I blinked my weary eyes open.

"Then, I wanted you to run away with me. I wanted to keep you to myself forever. I would have gotten rid of anybody who stood in my way... including him… all of them." He tilted his head and chuckled. "But you told me not to be silly. You told me I'd grow older and be embarrassed that I said it to you. But that same night… you were with him."

"Vidar..."

He cupped a handful of water, letting it pour over my head—shutting me up.

"But it's been years, and I still haven't forgotten about you. I'm still not embarrassed. It's been years, and the pain still eats me inside." He leaned in closer, his thumb now resting on my bottom lip. "Tell me, Theodore, why do you hurt me so much?"

What should I say? That I was sorry for not seeing the signs and shutting it down before it escalated? That I was sorry he saw what he saw that night?

Instead, I turned my head away. His thumb slid down.

"One day," he continued after a stretch of silence, "I'll get tired of hurting. Then I'll take you… away from this pack. I won't care how far I'll go, won't care if you hurt. I'll keep you locked away, so I'll be the only face you see, the only touch you'll crave."

I said nothing, my eyes still fixed on the far end of the room.

Gently, he held my jaw, turning me so I faced him. His eyes trailed over my face, my lips—every inch of me.

"You did this to me," he whispered. "You made me crazy."

I thought he was going to kiss me, and my body stiffened, but with a sigh, he maneuvered, pressing his lips against my forehead instead.

"I love you, Brother," he murmured. "I love you so much."

I shut my eyes. "You'll get yourself hurt."

"Then we'll both be in pain." His grip on my chin tightened. "You'll hate me so much, you'll hurt too."

I was already in pain. I'd always known pain even before he did.

"I'll never hate you, Vidar."

A bitter smirk crossed his lips. "I'll ruin you," he promised. "Then you'll have no choice but to."

It sounded like a promise.

I shut my eyes.