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2. Unholy Intent

2. Unholy Intent

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“Welcome home, Brother.”

I look up at Damian. Beautiful Damian.

He shifts his gaze to mine. 

“Didn’t I tell you to leave the locked doors alone?” he asks me, but his voice is strange. Echoing in this dusty, forgotten place.

The music starts again. That eerie sound of piano keys played slowly, so fitting to this place, this room, this house. 

My head is spinning. 

The other man, Damian’s brother, says something. His voice is similar to Damian’s but off. Like his face. Wrong.

Damian tucks hair behind my ear. 

I push his hand away, push his arms away. I turn slowly. They’re both watching me now, waiting to see what I’ll do. 

And the tune keeps playing, the chords slow. Sad.

I need to look at him. 

Can they hear my heartbeat? Blood beats like a drum against my ears. 

Run.

Run.

But I can’t run. I meet a monster at every turn. One standing behind me. The other holding me. 

He warned me about the monsters. How many more hide in this house?

“Cristina,” Damian says. 

I keep turning, my body still pressed to Damian’s.

I’ve taken shelter in my enemy’s arms. 

He’s in my periphery now. The monster. The brother. Tall, like Damian. I see the coat. It’s wet. He was the man walking back toward the house. It wasn’t Damian at all. What is out there that they go to see in the dead of night?

Dark hair. 

Identical twins. 

It’s easy to tell them apart now though. 

My eyes finally find the monster’s eyes. My breath catches in my throat. 

I remember when I was little, and I stared at Damian’s damaged hand. But this? This is worse. 

Much worse.

Monsters don’t often look like monsters on the outside. 

Forced to marry a man I should hate, I’m now bound to Damian. 

I sometimes wonder what he sees when he looks at me. Deer in headlights, I guess. 

What I see is clear.

Darkness.

Desire.

Carnal want.

A man with too much experience.

The day he took me he told me I belong to him. On our wedding night he proved I did. And I believe him when he says he’ll keep me safe because he won’t let anyone touch what’s his.

But I can’t forget what he is. Can’t forget the things he’s done.

And no matter what, I can’t let myself fall in love with him. 

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