Cass

The night air reeked of piss and damp stone as Cass and Lior made their way back home, cutting through the twisted veins of Blackmire's back alleys.

Cass walked ahead, hands shoved in his pockets, his stride loose and lazy. But there was something in his movements—controlled, deliberate.

Lior kept up, though his legs were shorter, his mind racing.

"Why did you tell me all that?" he finally asked.

Cass didn't turn. "Because you're not stupid."

Lior blinked. That was probably the closest thing to a compliment his brother had ever given him.

"And?"

"And," Cass sighed, "you're in this whether you like it or not."

Lior furrowed his brows. "I didn't—"

Cass suddenly stopped walking and grabbed Lior by the collar.

"Listen, sewer rat," Cass growled, shoving him against the damp brick wall. "I don't say things twice. I told you because I trust you. Because I need you to know why I do what I do."

"That's it?" Lior finally muttered. "That's why you brought me along?"

Cass let out a slow, sharp exhale through his nose. "Because I wanted you to know my weakness."

Lior frowned, confused. "What?"

Cass kept walking, his gaze fixed forward, but his voice was quiet. Uncharacteristically so.

"If I ever do something that goes against my principles, Lior…" Cass's fingers curled into fists. "I want you to pull me back. Even if you have to beat the shit out of me to do it."

Lior's stomach twisted.

Cass turned his head slightly, the dim gaslight catching on his busted lip. "That's the only reason I told you. So don't, for a second, ever think of following in my footsteps."

Lior stayed silent.

Cass clicked his tongue. "Tch. You're too damn soft for this world."

"You're just saying that because I actually have a soul," Lior muttered.

Cass laughed. It was bitter.

"Maybe I don't," he admitted. "Maybe I sold it a long time ago." He stretched his arms over his head, cracking his knuckles. "But someone had to, didn't they?"

Lior glanced up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Cass snorted. "Lior. Look at our family. Really look. Our mother—she hasn't spoken in years. She's a servant in a house that won't even let her sit at the same table as the people she cleans up after. Our father? That man is shedding his own skin to keep us fed. And Tally?" His jaw clenched. "Our little sister is gonna have to grow up knowing how cruel this world is."

Lior looked down.

Cass took a deep breath, tilting his head back as if talking to the sky.

"I might be a bastard, Lior," he said. "But our family needed one."

Lior's fingers curled at his sides.

"A bastard who can sell his soul." Cass exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Or else our mother will stay mute forever. Our father will break himself into pieces for nothing. And Tally—Tally will never get to know what it's like to feel safe. And that? That's something I refuse to let happen. Even if I have to drown in the fucking gutters."

Lior swallowed the lump in his throat.

Cass suddenly turned, grabbing him by the collar like he always did. "You, though? You still have a chance." His voice was low. Steady. "Maybe one day, you could go to school. Have a decent life."

Lior's lips parted, but he had no words.

Cass clicked his tongue again and let go, shaking his head with a grin. "Ugh, don't give me that face, sewer rat. I'll throw you into the canal myself."

Lior huffed. "You always talk like you're some kind of tragic hero."

Cass smirked, ruffling his hair roughly. "Nah. Heroes don't sell opium."

Lior swatted his hand away, scowling. But he couldn't shake the heavy weight pressing against his chest.

Cass had just told him the truth.

And the truth was, his brother wasn't a villain.

But he sure as hell wasn't a hero, either.

His grip tightened for a second before he let go with a rough shove.

Lior scowled, rubbing his neck. "There are nicer ways to say that, you know."

Cass smirked. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

They walked in silence for a bit, the city breathing its usual foul, ragged breath around them.

Then—just as they turned into a narrow alleyway, their shortcut home—

A group of older boys stepped into their path.

Lior knew immediately that they were here for Cass.

Cass? He just grinned.

"Look at this," one of the boys sneered, arms crossed. "The sewer prince himself."

Cass cocked his head. "Ain't you lot a little old to be forming gangs in dark alleys? What's next, you gonna try and sell me candy?"

The tallest one stepped forward. "You think you're fucking funny?"

Cass's smirk widened. "No, I know I am."

Lior tensed. His brother was pushing them, baiting them. He had no fear in his eyes.

Cass turned slightly, glancing at Lior. "Go home."

Lior clenched his fists. "No."

Cass's face darkened. "Lior. Fuck. Off."

Lior scoffed but turned around, walking away.

But he didn't go far.

Instead, he pressed himself against the corner of the alley, just out of sight.

And he watched.

The leader of the group, the tall one, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

"You beat the shit out of my brother, Levy."

Cass rolled his shoulders. "Yeah? Sounds like something I'd do."

"You think that's funny?"

Cass grinned. "A little bit."

"You broke his fucking nose!"

Cass shrugged. "Shouldn't have put his hands on a defenseless girl." His voice was lighter now, almost mocking. "If anything, you should be thanking me. I set him on a better path. He'll think twice next time before acting like a rabid dog."

Lior saw it before it even happened.

The leader lunged.

Cass moved like a coiled spring.

The first punch missed. Cass dodged with a smirk, but the second boy swung low, hitting him square in the ribs.

Cass gritted his teeth and retaliated, his fist slamming into the leader's jaw with a sickening crack.

Then—chaos.

Fists flying. Feet kicking.

Cass, outnumbered, but still grinning, still laughing through bloodied teeth.

And Lior?

Lior couldn't move.

It came fast.

A fist collided with Cass's ribs, a sharp crack breaking the air. Cass barely grunted before another boy grabbed him from behind, yanking him down onto his knees.

"FUCKIN'—" Cass snarled, throwing his elbow back. It connected. The boy behind him yelped, stumbling.

Cass surged upward, fist snapping forward and catching another in the mouth. Teeth clicked together. A grunt of pain. The kid reeled back, spitting blood.

Then, the third one kicked Cass in the stomach.

Cass choked as the wind was knocked out of him, staggering. A second blow, then a third, one after the other—fists and feet hammering into his body, not giving him a chance to recover.

Lior's hands clenched at his sides. His throat tightened.

He had to do something.

Cass stumbled, spit laced with red hitting the ground.

"Y'know," he rasped, grinning through his bloody teeth. "If this is all you got, maybe I hit your brother too softly."

The thick-necked boy's face darkened.

The next punch hit Cass straight in the jaw.

Hard.

His head snapped to the side, blood flying.

Then they all rushed him.

Cass went down hard.

Lior felt it in his bones.

A fist cracked against Cass's temple.

A knee buried itself into his gut.

His head was snapped back by a savage uppercut.

Lior watched, frozen, as his brother—the untouchable, grinning bastard—was dragged to the filth-covered ground, boots smashing into his ribs, his face.

Cass was losing.

Cass never lost.

Lior felt sick. His breath came in short, panicked bursts. His fingers dug into his own arms.

He should run.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

Cass coughed, rolled onto his side, tried to push himself up.

A boot crushed down onto his hand.

Cass let out a hoarse growl of pain, chest heaving.

The thick-necked boy squatted down beside him, grabbing him roughly by the matted hair and yanking his face up.

"Not so cocky now, are you, Morel?" The boy's grin was all teeth. Mean. Cruel. "Maybe we should teach you what it feels like to be helpless."

Cass's breath rattled, his eyes glassy from the beating.

But then—he laughed.

Blood dripped from his split lip, teeth bared in a ragged grin. "Helpless?" He wheezed. "That's funny. I was just about to say the same thing to you."

Then Cass spat blood right into the bastard's eye.

The boy jerked back with a snarl.

Cass lunged.

Even half-conscious, half-broken, Cass moved like a wild dog with nothing to lose. His forehead slammed into the bastard's nose with a wet crunch.

Lior flinched.

Cass wrenched free, lunged for the next one, and dug his fingers into the kid's eye socket like he was trying to rip it out.

Screams.

Fists swung wildly.

A sick, brutal dance of violence and survival.

Lior had never seen Cass look more alive.

And for the first time, standing there, shaking, he wondered if his brother even feared death at all.