13. Fun?

Kayla.

The moment we stepped into Scott’s room, my mind refused to settle. Thoughts collided violently inside my head, each one louder than the next, and all I could think about was the possibility of making a mistake.

One wrong expression, one wrong reaction, and everything I had carefully built could come crashing down. I couldn’t afford that.

The heavy doors shut behind us, the sound echoing through the room like a warning. Before I could fully gather myself, Scott dropped me roughly onto the bed.

The force of it made me wince slightly, but I quickly masked the reaction, forcing my face to remain pale and fragile.

He stood there staring at me, his face completely unreadable, devoid of even the slightest hint of emotion. His cold gaze pinned me in place, making the room suddenly feel smaller.

“Weren’t you acting tough at the training ground?” he asked, one brow arching slightly as his sharp eyes studied me carefully. “How could you possibly allow others to bully you?”

His tone carried genuine seriousness, and for a moment, I almost scoffed at the absurdity of his words. If only he knew. If only he realized that everything he had seen was nothing more than an act carefully woven together for survival.

But instead of reacting, I lowered my head slowly, allowing strands of hair to fall over my face as though I was ashamed. I kept my expression weak, vulnerable, exactly how they wanted me to appear. Anything to ensure I got what I wanted in the end.

Suddenly, Scott’s fingers wrapped around my chin. The grip was firm, impossible to ignore, as he forced my face upward until our eyes met.

“I’m truly disappointed, human,” he said coldly. “You are making everything less fun.”

Fun?

The word echoed in my head, almost making me lose control of my expression.

I couldn’t believe it. This ruthless brother, this man capable of terrifying everyone around him with a single command, saw me as entertainment. As fun.

The realization disgusted me.

Scott continued staring into my eyes intensely, so intensely that it felt as though he was trying to peel away every layer I had carefully hidden behind.

My heartbeat quickened involuntarily. For a terrifying second, I wondered if he could see through me completely.

His gaze sharpened further, his expression flickering ever so slightly, as if something about me had suddenly unsettled him. Then, almost abruptly, he released my chin and stepped back.

He turned away from me instantly, his broad back facing me while his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The tension radiating from him was unmistakable.

“Get out,” he commanded sharply.

I froze for a brief moment, staring at him in confusion.

These people were truly unpredictable.

One moment he was furious at Laura for touching me, the next he was throwing me out as though my presence irritated him. It wasn’t even like I had asked him to bring me here in the first place.

Suppressing the irritation bubbling inside me, I slowly rose to my feet. I stayed silent, refusing to say another word. Honestly, I couldn’t stand the sight of him either.

All I wanted was for him to drop dead.

For all of them to drop dead.

I wanted them to answer to my parents in the afterlife for everything they had done. Every ounce of pain, every injustice, every cruel moment—they deserved to pay for it all.

And no matter how long it took, I would make sure they did.

But before I even reached the door, everything shifted abruptly.

A sudden force pulled me back from behind, swift and unrelenting, dragging me off balance before I could react.

My breath caught in my throat as I was yanked into him. In the next instant, his face was buried deep against my neck, close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin.

My eyes widened in shock.

His breathing was no longer controlled. It had turned ragged—uneven—like something inside him had snapped loose. His arms locked tightly around my waist, holding me in place with an intensity that bordered on desperate.

I tried to twist away immediately, instinct kicking in, but his grip only tightened further, leaving no room for escape.

“Stay still!” he commanded sharply, his voice low but forceful, vibrating against my skin.

I froze instantly at the tone, more out of instinct than obedience.

And before I could even process what was happening, I felt it—he was inhaling deeply, slowly, almost obsessively, as though he was trying to ground himself in my scent. Like he was clinging to something fragile, something slipping away from him. It was unsettling…almost mad.

My pulse spiked.

In a swift motion, he turned me around and slammed me against the wall with brutal precision.

The impact knocked the air out of my lungs for a second. Before I could recover, his body pressed against mine, trapping me completely. There was no space between us, no escape route, no angle, nothing.

His hands rose instantly, pinning both of my wrists against the wall above my head with one firm grip. The position left me completely immobilized.

What’s going on?

Panic surged through me like wildfire. My mind scrambled for logic, for explanation, for anything that could make sense of his sudden behavior. But nothing fit. Nothing made sense.

Scott lowered his head slightly, and I felt his fingers move—slowly tracing from the side of my neck upward, sending an involuntary shiver through me. His touch was deliberate, unsettlingly controlled despite his earlier aggression.

Then his hand drifted higher, brushing lightly along my chin, tilting my face just enough that I was forced to meet his gaze. And when I did, my breath hitched.

His eyes…they weren’t cold anymore. They were intense—too intense—focused entirely on me, as though I had become the only thing in his field of vision.

His gaze dropped to my lips and lingered there. Seconds passed. Then more. Too long. Far too long.

My heart pounded violently in my chest, so loud I was certain he could hear it too. Every beat felt amplified in the suffocating silence between us.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. My mind screamed at me to move, to resist, to break free—but my body didn’t respond the way I wanted it to.

Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, everything stopped.

Scott stepped back sharply, releasing me as though he had been burned. He turned away instantly, putting distance between us, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched tightly once again.

And then his voice came again—louder, harsher than before, cutting through the thick air like a blade.

“Get out!” The command echoed in the room, final and absolute. “Now, before I lose my control.” He added.

And in that moment, as I stood there trying to steady my breathing and make sense of what had just happened, I could only reach one conclusion…he was truly insane.