CHAPTER 3

JOAQUIN LAY AWAKE, turning restlessly, unable to find sleep no matter what he did. His mind kept drifting back to Sire who was supposed to be here, in this room, beside him yet had insisted on the sofa instead.

He sighed into the quiet dark. Who would have thought he would fall for a man?

He had always been straight. Liking another man had never once crossed his mind. Never. He had loved women—dated them, been with them, everything about that path had felt natural. He never imagined he would one day find his heart belonging to someone of the same gender.

Until he met Sire.

From the very first moment he saw him, something shifted. His heart raced in a way it never had before. His thoughts grew tangled, his body reacted in ways he couldn’t explain. He knew Sire had a reputation, he knew about the women, the fleeting nights, the way he moved from one to the next and yet his feelings didn’t fade. They only grew deeper, stronger, more certain. Truth be told, seeing Sire turn others away made him happy.

How did he know? He watched. He couldn’t help himself. He found himself seeking Sire out, wanting to be near him every moment. Just hearing his voice made his day feel whole. Just seeing him was enough to make him smile.

He shook himself from his thoughts and rose quietly from the bed. He walked into the living room where Sire lay asleep, and gently pulled the blanket back up when he saw it slipping off the edge. He stood there for a long moment, drinking in the peace of his face—until his gaze settled on his lips. An ache rose in him, a fierce longing to lean down and kiss them, soft and slow. Instead, he brushed a tender kiss to his forehead, light as a whisper.

“Tsk.”

Joaquin turned sharply. Demter stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, one eyebrow arched high.

“Aunty was hoping for grandchildren through you,” she said, arms folded, “since Nik fell for a man too.”

“When did you get back?”

“Just now.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Can’t sleep. My back aches.”

Joaquin sighed. He knew exactly what that meant. “I’ll take care of it.” He led the way to his room, Demter following behind.

Inside, she lifted her shirt and his heart twisted. Her back was crisscrossed with countless lashes, angry and raw.

“How many?” he asked, gently applying ointment.

“A hundred.”

Damn. It looked agonizing. How could she bear this? It was too much. She came home like this, again and again.

“What rule did you break?”

“None.”

“None? Then why—”

“Let it go, Quin.”

He fell silent. When Demter said that, the conversation was over. She kept so much. even as her closest friend, there were parts of her he could never reach.

“Stop hurting yourself like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with worry. She was stubborn, fiercely so.

She shrugged. “I like the pain. I crave it.”

Joaquin paused, his eyes falling to the clasp of her bra where it pressed against fresh wounds. He looked away respectfully. “May I unhook it?”

She nodded.

He took a steadying breath before undoing the clasp, his touch careful and gentle. Demter remained perfectly still, showing no reaction at all.

Outside the room, Sire stood frozen. He woke up by the sound and came here.  He didn’t understand why the thought of Deme and Joaquin together in that room stung so sharply. He didn’t even know why he had come here.

Were they together? If so, why hadn’t Deme said anything?

The door opened, and Demeter stepped out straightening her clothes. Sire’s irritation flared hotter.

Damn it. Why do I feel this way?

“What?” Demter asked, meeting his gaze calmly. She knew him—Joaquin’s love interest.

Sire frowned. “I thought you left.” There was something different about Deme tonight, something he couldn’t quite place.

She said nothing. Just looked at him—blank, unreadable, her eyes giving nothing away. This wasn’t the Deme he knew.

“Tsk.”

Sire stood there, bewildered, as she simply turned and walked away. He watched her go, then shook his head and turned to leave when Joaquin’s door opened.

Surprise flickered across Joaquin’s face when he saw him.

What’s he so shocked about? It’s just me.

“Y-you need something?” Joaquin cleared his throat, his heart beating fast. Did Sire change his mind? Did he want to come in? I hope so. I want to see him last thing at night and first thing in the morning.

Sire looked away, uncomfortable with the way Joaquin’s gaze made him feel—warm, unsteady, confused. “Uh… n-nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Sire swallowed hard. “Y-yes.” Damn it. Why am I stammering? It’s just one word. He wanted to run. Why did my feet bring me here?

“Couldn’t you sleep out there? I meant it, you’re welcome here.”

Sire was fine on the sofa. Truly. He had only woken because he heard voices. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. “I’m fine. No mosquitoes at all.”

“Alright then.” Joaquin took a step closer, closing the space between them. “Don’t let me find you outside my door again.”

Joaquin's voice was soft, not angry yet something in it sent a shiver through Sire. Joaquin lifted his hand, tilting Sire’s chin upward until their eyes met.

Sire swallowed again and again, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs. Stop it. Be still!

“Next time I find you here…” Joaquin whispered close to his ear, “…I’ll punish you.”

Sire’s face burned. His hands curled into fists. He wanted to push him away, to snap at him yet his limbs felt heavy, useless. Damn it.

Joaquin pulled back, slowly running his tongue over his lower lip. “Sleep well, babe.” He stepped back inside and closed the door.

Sire stood there, dazed, his mind reeling, his heart racing like it would never slow down.

*

*

*

 

MORNING CAME soft and bright. Sire woke to familiar voices. He rested well, peaceful, untroubled by the nightmares that usually haunted him. He followed the sound to the kitchen, where Demeter, Creed, and Dae sat drinking coffee.

“What do you even see in him?” Demter said bluntly. She's interrogating Dae, his cousin's boyfriend.

“Enough with the questions, Dem.” Creed sighed.

“I'm just fucking asking. I want to know him better.”

“and enough swearing.”

“Asshole.”

“Demter!”

Creed rubbed his temples. “How many times must I tell you, that kind of speech doesn’t suit you?! You are a princess, Dem, act like one!” she's really troublesome.

“I don't give a damn care, Ivanov.”

Before things heated between the two. Dae turned quickly to Sire. “Want some coffee” he offered, desperate to change the subject.

“And here he is,” Demter said, looking straight at Sire. “The pussywreaker.”

Everyone stared.

“Demter!” Creed screamed in disbelief.

“What?” she asked, all innocence.

“That was uncalled for! You're too rude to someone you just met. Apologize to him right now.”

“Why would I? I'm just stating a fact.”

Creed turned to Sire, defeated. “Please forgive her—she has no filter.”

Sire gave an awkward smile. “It’s fine.” He couldn’t help but notice how different she was from the warm Deme he knew.

“See? He doesn’t mind.” Demter said.

Creed glared at her before introducing them properly. “Sire, this is Demter. Deme’s twin sister.”

Ah. That explains everything. Sire nodded slowly. “Sire Gar-”

“I know who you are,” she said simply.

He sat beside her, and Creed handed him a cup of coffee. His eyes drifted around the room, searching. Joaquin wasn’t here either. Wait? Why am I looking for that bastard?

“Another sleepless night?” Creed asked Demter.

“Mm.”

“How long?”

“Two weeks.”

Dae looked at her, concerned. "What? Three days was already long. Do you have insomnia?”

She gave a short, indifferent nod.

Sire had just taken his third sip when the bathroom door opened and he forgot how to breathe.

Joaquin stepped out, freshly showered, shirtless, wearing loose black jeans. Water droplets trailed down his hair, over his shoulders, along the lines of his chiseled chest and abdomen. He looked impossibly, unfairly handsome. And he smelled—warm, rich, inviting—filling the space between them.

Sire swallowed as the Spaniard moved toward them. It felt as though time itself had slowed down. He couldn’t look away. Damn.

“Morning,” Joaquin greeted him, smiling that bright, devastating smile.

“M-morning,” Sire stammered, quickly looking away. He couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. His heart was still racing. Why does he do this to me?

He had a body too—muscles, strength, everything women admired. Yet here he sat, finding himself admiring Joaquin instead.

Damn it!