LOGIN********************* "Sweet," Lucian purrs as he spreads my legs wide and leans in to press kisses to my inner thighs, making me whimper. "Every inch of you is so sweet, I can't get enough." When I feel Lucian's canines follow after his tongue as he makes his way up to my center, I cry out shamelessly and cover my face with a pillow to cage in my lust. Lucian doesn't let me silence my sounds for long; soon snatching the pillow away, he tosses it to the floor with a warning growl. I feel fresh waves of slick dripping from my entrance as I watch Lucian spread me open once more and lick between my legs, teasing across my clit for a brief moment. "I love your spots," Lucian whispers as he presses a kiss so gentle to one of the flat moles on my inner thigh that my eyes fill with tears. "I love that they're all hidden away, for only me to find." ********************** Iris doesn’t trust people. She learned a long time ago that the people who are supposed to protect you can be the ones who hurt you the most. Iris is tired. She’s been through too much to believe that life still has anything beautiful left for her. Lucian is angry. Angry at the family that abandoned him. Angry at the past he couldn’t change. Angry at the part of himself that had become exactly what everyone expected him to be. Lucian doesn’t need anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Iris and Lucian are both ruins. Two people who should have been left to fall apart. But sometimes, broken things don’t need to be repaired. Sometimes they find another broken thing. And somehow… they fit.
View MoreLucian's P.O.V.
I don't understand humans. I don't get their morals, don't get the way they think. I don't get their abundant stupidity.
They are so fucking stupid.
I let my gaze return to the old man who is still shouting at me, one fat finger pointed in my direction while he tries to "put me in my place."
I zone out. Sienna claims I do that a lot, sometimes too much. It was something I mastered as a kid. If I don't, and allow myself to actually listen to people, I get angry. The anger is caused by the bullshit people usually spew on a day-to-day basis.
So I zone out, for their own safety.
I look across at Milo, who is sitting next to me in a wooden office chair identical to my own. He is crying. Milo is always fucking crying. I don't understand how it's possible to cry this much, to still have so many tears in such a tiny body.
A tiny body that is now covered in bruises. The guy didn't get his face, but he pretty much pummeled every inch of his body with his fists. He will heal, but it takes longer for omegas to heal than the average wolf, and Milo is more fragile than a typical omega.
I am going to kill the bastard.
"No, you're not," Theo inputs, his voice light and kind.
Theo is my wolf. He's the only voice of reason I let myself listen to... sometimes.
"I really am," I argue, and he laughs.
"You are not going to kill him. You know we can't," he says, continuing before I can argue back. "You can beat him up, scar him for life, both physically and emotionally, but no killing him."
I groan internally because I know deep down that Theo is right. I can't kill him.
"Ha," he pokes, but I ignore him.
For one, he is human, and when one of those goes missing, the others often look for them. Secondly, I've already killed my quota of humans for the year. Not that anyone's actually counting, it's more of a personal rule.
Wolves are violent by nature, that's just what we are, but I know I run hotter than most. So I keep a rough tally in my head, a line I don't let myself cross, because the day I stop counting is the day everyone starts asking questions I don't want to answer. If my parents find out I exceeded it, I'd be the next to end up dead.
So the guy is going to live to see another day. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to see the guy choke on his own blood, or reveling in the feeling of pulling his eyes from their sockets. My mind is running wild with all the things I could do to the bastard, and it is hard to know that I can't go through with any of them. It's hard to sit here in a dusty room with an annoying human and a crying Milo, knowing that I can't kill anyone afterward.
I look back at said human and sigh, forcing myself to actually listen to what he's saying for a moment.
"This school has given you abundant opportunities, Mr. Hawthorne," he spits, and it takes everything in me not to rip his tongue out. "The next time you get in an altercation with another student, it will be the last time."
"There wouldn't be any 'altercations' if you actually did your job," I reply through clenched teeth. "If you stopped people from bullying my brother, then I wouldn't have to step in. Look at him!"
He begins spluttering a whole bunch of nonsense I really don't have the time for. So I stand and offer a hand to Milo. He doesn't hesitate to take it, and I quickly pull him to his feet. I grab our bags from the floor and walk us out of the stingy office, leaving the old man to yell at himself.
When we're far enough, Milo stops in the middle of the empty hallway, fingers gripping mine tightly as he looks up at me.
I close my eyes and take a breath before turning to look at him. I am already pissed, and I don't need him sobbing any more than he already is because I lost my temper on him.
"I-I'm s-sorry, L-L-Lucian," he manages through his sniffs.
"Milo, I really can't deal with the tears right now," I say honestly, digging into my back pocket for my phone. He nods weakly with a whimper. I sigh, pulling him into my chest, and curse softly when he whimpers again in pain. I unlock my phone and quickly scroll through my contacts list. "It's not your fault, so don't say sorry."
"G-Got y-you in trouble," he stutters against me, crying a little harder at his own words.
"I'll deal with it, so stop crying," I demand. He clenches onto my shirt tighter, still shaking in my grip, so I rub his back gently to calm him down.
When I find Zander's number, I send him a quick text with my one free hand.
L: Need a favor.
Z: Another. You need another favor.
I roll my eyes at his correction before he sends another text.
Z: Where r u?
L: Bio block.
Z: See you in a min.
I slip my phone back into my pocket before I pull Milo away from my chest to look at him. He looks up at me, lips wobbly and eyes puffy, but thank Goddess the tears have stopped.
"Want to go home or back to class?" I ask, and I can see the worry in his eyes.
"W-Where a-are you g-g-going?" he asks instead of answering.
"To properly deal with the one who hurt you," I reply simply, and his eyes widen for a moment. "I'm not going to kill them, just going to teach the guy a lesson that he won't forget. So, Milo, class or home?"
"C-C-Class," he manages just as Zander walks around a corner.
"You can go to the nurse after lunch, but not before," I tell him, leaving no room for discussion, and he nods his understanding.
"B-Be s-safe," he whispers so quietly I barely pick up on it. I pass Milo his bag, wipe the rest of his tears from his face, and send him off. He sends me unsure looks over his shoulder with every step before he's out of view.
"What do you need this time?" Zander asks, blowing a bubble with his gum while I run a tired hand through my hair.
"Deal with the principal, make him and all the others forget about this," I say, meeting his eyes, and he smiles devilishly. "I don't really care how you do it, just get them off my back."
"And?" he asks, tilting his head before folding his arms.
"Why did the guy hurt Milo? Everyone knows not to touch him," I state, and he nods as his smile fades for a moment.
"New kid. Didn't get the informatory pamphlet," he says sarcastically with a shrug. "I think he gets it now though, with the beating you gave him and all."
"He's about to take another," I inform him before throwing him my bag, which he lets his magic catch, keeping his arms folded against his chest.
"Don't kill him," he says as he eyes me.
I force myself to breathe around the annoyance and rage.
"I won't," I reply crisply and hold his gaze as he stares at me for a moment longer. "What?"
"Nothing," he says before grinning once more. "Just staring."
He turns before I can reply, walking away with the bag hovering behind him. I don't waste any more time and head for the perpetrator. I am angry once again, and now I have the perfect person to take it out on.
I don't release the pressure I have around the guy's throat as he squirms around aimlessly. His attempts at begging and pleading are truly pathetic, his hands clasping desperately at mine, which are wrapped around his windpipe.
I roll my shoulders and sigh happily at his vain efforts to breathe, to escape my punishing grip.
I like to hurt people.
Wait, that's not true. I love to hurt others; it doesn't necessarily have to be a person for me to enjoy it. It's a thing about me I can't change, and one I don't mind, even though everyone I know hates it.
Everyone thinks I'm damaged or broken. I suppose that's why they call me a Demon.
The supernatural think I'm violent because I'm the first-born biological son to two Alphas... Cara and Dominic. Logic says that if you combine two Alpha bloodlines, doubling down on all the dominance and violent instinct already running through us, you get me.
My parents leading together is unique enough, but their combined bloodlines made me an absolute monster.
My mom wasn't even supposed to be Alpha. That title was meant for her older brother, but he never wanted it, never wanted the responsibility, the politics, the constant threat of a challenge hanging over him. So she took it instead, the first woman in generations to hold the position in her own right rather than through a mate.
People weren't exactly welcoming of that at first. An Alpha in her own right, and then paired with my Dad, another Alpha? Nobody had seen anything like it. It shouldn't have worked, two Alphas running one pack side by side. It did anyway, better than anyone expected, and eventually people stopped asking how.
Besides, they were fated mates, and no one could actually question the moon goddess.
The humans think I'm bloodthirsty because I am "super fucked up." Apparently, I went to juvie three times and almost went to prison because I'm just "that crazy." I also, allegedly, cover my eye tattoos every day so nobody knows how many people I've truly killed.
Finally, my parents believe it's because they messed up. Somewhere along the line, they messed up and raised me wrong. They made mistakes, and I became like this.
It's a great feeling knowing that your own parents think that the way you are is a walking mistake... it's truly amazing.
All in all, I just like to see people in pain. I like to see them weak because of me, and I like to feel them fight a losing battle. But most of all, I like to see the look in their eyes when they realize that their life is in my hands.
That's the best part.
"My name is Lucian," I say, introducing myself with a smile. I lean down a little closer to the guy, making sure he's looking into my eyes as his mouth remains agape. "I'm sorry, what was that? Can you speak up?"
I release my grip on him enough for him to make one desperate gasp for air before I punch him in his nose and continue strangling him. My skin tingles at the blood which dribbles down his nose while I continue cutting off his oxygen.
"I just thought you should know a few things, so that you don't find yourself in this position again," I say, feigning sympathy as his bloodshot eyes hold mine. "The guy you beat up earlier, Milo, that's my little brother. I know it's hard to imagine because he's... well, Milo, and I'm the complete opposite, but he's my little brother, rest assured."
"You see, I got this weird thing about family, don't know where it came from... but I don't like it when people hurt my family. I really don't like it. It makes me want to hurt them more than I already do."
He begins to turn purple, and I can't help but laugh. It looks like his head will pop if I go any further, as if he just might die if I push a little harder. So I do, my smile widening when his veins begin to show.
"There's two more of my family in this school, so my advice for you is to pray that you don't so much as look at them the wrong way," I whisper, making my eyes glow just to fuck with him. "Because if you do, I'll fucking kill you."
I pull my hands away, letting him slide off the small bed and onto the ground as he gasps desperately for air between his coughing.
"Make sure you leave here before lunch, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll slit your throat and theirs too," I say as I stand up and make my way to the sink to wash my hands of his disgusting blood. I hum quietly to myself, pumping soap into them as he continues to gag.
"Too far?" I ask Theo as I turn to look at the wheezing creature.
"Nah, you could do more," he replies, making me smile.
I give him one last kick to the temple before I leave the room and shut the door quietly behind me.
My eyes find Sienna leaning against the wall opposite me, her arms crossed with a deep, disapproving frown. I roll my eyes and walk away, but she follows anyway.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Lucian?" she yells beside me, boring a hole into the side of my skull with her glare. I keep looking straight ahead as I try to figure out my way to math from here.
"A lot," I reply with a smirk.
"What did you do to him?" she asks, but it sounds more like a statement. Like she knew I nearly killed the guy and just wanted to hear me say it.
"It's times like this that I seriously regret fighting for the pack to let you out into the world. Should've known that you don't let mutts out," I admit with a groan, but she doesn't budge.
"What did you do, Lucian?" she presses once more.
"Go take a look for yourself," I reply, walking a little faster to rid myself of her, but she keeps up. "What do you want, Sienna?"
"For you to try and use your brain for once," she snaps, and I stop, turning to look at her. "He's a human. You can't go around hurting humans like that."
"Yes, I can," I reply as I take a step closer, but she stands her ground. "I can hurt whoever the fuck I want, including humans. This time, this one deserved it. Go take a look at Milo; you'll see that the prick got off easy."
"That doesn't make it right," she says, her glare softening before she walks away.
Meet Sienna Stone. My future Beta, my best friend, my worst enemy, and my future mate. At least that's what I suspect, since she's the only person outside of my family who gets to talk to me like that. I figured she must be special if I don't want to kill her that much when she does.
But that's not all; I do like Sienna. I enjoy having her around sometimes, and she makes me laugh on the rare occasion when her jokes land. Most times, when we're not fighting, she's alright.
Sienna is a bit of a wildcard to me. Sometimes she likes the violence in me, supports it, and even contributes to it.
She gets it when nobody else does. Other times, like today, she plays righteous. She plays holy and sees me as a demon, rather than her Lucian.
I didn't get why, though. It's easier for me to just live with the mess that I am and deal with the hate because of it.
It's much easier than wasting time and energy trying to hide it or morph myself into someone that I'm not.
She didn't agree with that way of thinking, and neither did my parents or the elders of my pack. All of them are questioning my role as the next Alpha.
I love my life.
I shake my head, make my way to class, and try to look at the bright side. She is gone, so I don't have to hear her voice or deal with another lecture from her. That would be more difficult than usual with all the nonsense I've already dealt with for the day, and it isn't even lunch yet.
I slip into my math class and get a salute from my teacher. He knew where I was and has thrown enough fits by now to know it is a waste of time to do so.
I take my usual seat beside Zander, who passes me my bag. I raise an eyebrow in question and he nods. I relax in my seat with the knowledge that everything has been dealt with.
I rest my head on the desk and take a breath. I just needed to take a fucking breath.
************
"Hey Lucian!" Simon calls as I walk down the front steps.
I look around the crowded car park to find my usual group of friends sitting around their cars alongside some hovering extras.
I glance across at my own before heading their way and forcing a smile.
"We're going to grab some food before we head to Megan's house," Simon says, and I glance briefly at a waving Megan. "Want to come with?" he finishes with a raised brow.
"I already have plans," I reply with a shrug. They groan their disappointment, and I groan internally at this conversation. "Next time."
"You always say that," a girl says, who I think is called Belle... I'm not willing to bet on it, though.
"Because I always have shit to do," I reply, and they laugh at this. I wave them off and take my leave, making my way to my car where my brothers and sister are already waiting for me.
I unlock it, and everyone gets in without a complaint. I have three siblings to look after in this school, and it is basically a full-time job. Milo sometimes gets bullied because of his timid nature, Kaia gets herself into fights because of her mouth, and Kaelen takes shit for his name, that, or he stole someone's food.
I usually don't have to worry too much about the twins; they can take care of themselves and each other when necessary. But Milo is an entirely different story. Milo is naturally a pushover, and that, combined with his omega genes, makes him the most fragile thing in the world.
Someone always has to look out for Milo. Right now, that someone is me.
"Can we stop at McDonald's? I'm hungry," Kaelen asks as I pull out of the car park.
"You're always hungry," Kaia replies before I can, twisting to face Kaelen from her seat in the front. "Your mouth is a black hole and it smells like a cow's ass."
"I don't remember speaking to you, Kaia. Can you kindly mind your fucking business?" Kaelen replies before redirecting his attention to me. "McDonald's?"
"Do you have McDonald's money?" I ask, and he slumps back into his seat with a loud groan.
"When did you turn into Dad?" he groans, and I physically cringe at the thought of it. I shake it off and start the car.
"I-I can lend you," Milo offers, resurrecting Kaelen with those four words alone.
"I love you, Milo," he cheers as he fights against his seatbelt to hug Milo. "Love you so much."
"I'm not stopping," I inform him, and Kaelen deflates again.
"But I have McDonald's money now," he whines angrily, and I send him a smile from the rearview mirror.
"I know, I just don't care," I reply, and he sends me a death glare that makes my smile grow.
"Demon," he spits, and I brush it off to focus on the road.
I had to get home in time to go help train a bunch of useless warriors to learn how to fight. Why me, a seventeen-year-old, was supposed to teach them was beyond me... but it was part of my "makeover."
Revamping my tainted image in the pack as a borderline serial killer and psychopath was my parents' solution to convincing the pack and elders that I would make a good Alpha. This included playing nice with said elders, helping out with pack activities, visiting the hurt ones while they refused to die, and playing around with the most annoying kids. It's been almost a year since we started this bullshit, and I can't wait for it to end.
But yet, something feels off. Something feels wrong, and it unnerves me. Doubt is settling in me and growing by the day, as if waiting for everything to come crashing down upon me.
I push it away. It is useless paranoia.
Just a month more until I become Alpha, Sienna will be my mate, and all this bullshit can finally stop.
I can't fucking wait.
____________________________________________
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Lucian’s P.O.V.I lift my feet slowly to carry me up the steps to the front door, my muscles tight with exhaustion. The sound of the blood that drenched me hitting the floor with every step is a periodic reminder of what I’d lost. I didn’t really lose anything though, did I? Can’t lose something you never had.I close the door behind me and lock it. The house was dark, the space still with a deafening silence I wanted to break, to stop the torment. I make my way through the halls and up the stairs to my room, content with dealing with my inevitable lecture tomorrow.I had entertained the thought of erasing any evidence of the massacre which laid beyond the border. I could go back and bury them, then the only proof left would be me.But I didn’t have to think for long to know that it didn’t make much sense to wash away the proof.I couldn’t wash away myself; the stain on me would never fade.“Lucian,” Dad calls from the office, and I sigh.“I don’t want to talk right now,” I manage, co
Lucian's P.O.V.I cut away a piece of salmon before lifting it and pushing it between my lips, chewing slowly as I watch my parents carefully.Mom had made lunch; she had taken up the task of refilling everyone's plates with a large smile while Dad was laughing at something Kaia said about Kaelen.They seemed completely unbothered, eyes light with nothing but happiness as they enjoyed our Saturday lunch together. The conversation was light, easy, and didn't seem to be strained.They were smiling.If something was wrong, they wouldn't be so damn happy.They wouldn't be so carefree if things weren't okay.But then again, smiles are the greatest weapon of deception."There is no need to be so cynical, Lucian," Theo chimes in, his voice just as cheerful as always. "I think they're hiding something as well, but they must be waiting for a good moment to tell you. And whatever it is, it doesn't change the fact that they're your parents and they love you.""Okay," I mumble, pulling my eyes aw
Iris's P.O.V.I shake my hips side to side as I hold up one of my shirts in front of me. I'd positioned two lamps perfectly to shine on them at this angle so I could see their prints. I smile widely when I see the blurred yellow symbol, my mind filling in the rest to identify one of my favorites.I throw the shirt into the keep pile before picking up the next. I was leaving in a couple of days and managed to get everything sorted but my clothes, the shirts being the last to be tackled.Like with the rest of my clothes when packing, there was a leave pile and a keep pile. The task was almost a complete waste of time, seeing as the leave pile had less than twenty shirts.So I like to hoard shit, sue me."When there's nothing to lose and nothing to prove," I sing as I move my feet in rhythm with the song, "and I'm dancing with myself."I glance across at Sassy, whom I find sleeping in a ball on my bed. She fell asleep when the first shirt hit the floor. I didn't really blame her, s
Lucian's P.O.V.I watch carefully at the many pairs of pack members fighting in the large open field, surveying their movements from afar. Skilled warriors walk around them, inserting little pieces of advice which seem to help a bit.But even with the help, they are still shit.A smile tugs at my lips when I catch Kaia throw someone easily three times her size over her shoulder and onto the ground. She teases them aimlessly before offering them a hand and pulling them up, and then they start again.I keep observing from my spot beneath a large oak tree, catching the mistakes that the warriors miss, making a mental note to tell someone to deal with it later. I can't necessarily go and tell them myself, they'd back away, some might even run. I don't even train with my pack anymore; I've sent too many of my own to the healing centers. In my dad's own words, I "don't know when to stop" and have "a minimal level of self-control."It wasn't my fault they were all weak.So I just have to wat
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