All Chapters of Mated To My Step-brother And His Best friend: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

SAINT.Fire.Flames.Screams.Laughter.All of it lived under my skin and echoed in the depths of my soul, rotting me from the inside out as I thrashed against the bed.It’s been thirteen fucking years already, damn it!"Please! Help me, Saint!" Her voice kept haunting me like it was yesterday.And the faces of the five fuckers who perpetrated the act and made me watch stood afar, watching and laughing. Their faces also haunted me.They taunted.They circled me in the dark corners of my mind, taunting me like the cowards they were."Weakling.""Asshole.""Go save her and get roasted."I shot upright in bed, my chest heaving, sweat dripping down my spine like I’d just clawed my way out of hell.The nightmares were back. They'd stopped for a few days, but now they were back and worse.I could kill a hundred men, and still, those five would laugh at me in the dark.The faces of those motherfuckers were imprinted in my memory. Even though I had successfully rained punishment on four, send

KYRIE.She was a small thing under me and a universe all at once — a contradiction that unravelled me every time she blinked.I watched every little twitch in her face like it was a map to the place I almost lost everything for.She relaxed against me, tiny and stubborn and real.“But… I need to check my scholarship. I can’t lose it. It means a lot to me. I need to reply and get prepared for the next phase in two weeks. My phone…” Her voice broke as the syllables thinned with tears.Good. She’s calming and beginning to sound trusting, too. Good. I didn't let her know how thin my own control was at that point."Hey... You can check using my computer, baby. You're free to call even your mum. You can do anything you want. But just don't leave, okay?"She hesitated before slowly nodding.Her nod was small and hesitant, but it was enough to carve through the storm still raging in my chest.Good girl.I didn’t tell her how much her trembling voice had scraped down my ribs. Instead, I leaned

EVE.We cooked.I didn’t think I’d laugh while standing on the wrong side of a locked door, but I did. He handed me the knife, let me choose the menu, and stood at my shoulder like he was my sous-chef instead of the man keeping me here.I swear, I hadn't bonded with anyone the way I did with Kyrie while we were cooking.He even let me decide what we'd eat for the night. Grilled cheese and tomato sauce.That made my heart flutter.When I innocently suggested what meal we should eat, I found out that it wasn't something he'd eat on a normal day because he never liked grilled cheese and tomatoe sauce since childhood, but instead of listening to me when I said we could choose something else, he went ahead to say, "Perhaps I'd like it when you prepare it for me."That stupid line made my chest warm. I hated that it did.We fell into a rhythm. I buttered bread and laid out slices of cheddar while Kyrie hovered beside me, mangling tomatoes like he was purposely trying to get it wrong so I’d

EVE.Silence settled between us. I felt every second like a coin being counted.My mouth went dry. I wanted to tell him a dozen things: that I hated what he did, that I hated how safe I felt here, that I was terrified and furious and grateful all at once. Instead, I breathed slowly, the way he had been teaching me to breathe when panic rose. I closed my fingers around his, the same hand that held my face, and somewhere in the dark place where fear and longing crossed, something soft loosened.He leaned in again. My pulse banged at my throat in time with the heat of his breath.My head told me this was danger; my body, the traitor, answered with need. I pressed forward half an inch, and his mouth closed on mine.The kiss was careful at first, like two people learning how to breathe around one another. It wasn’t greedy. It was patient; it was reverent. Kyrie tasted like garlic and the metal tang of pain and something softer, like warm milk. His hands came down to my hips, steadying me.T

KYRIE.The call with Mum ended, and I just stood there against the wall with my chest heaving like I’d sprinted through a warzone. I raked my fingers through my hair until it stood on end, until my scalp burned.Mum could wait. She always could. She’d forgive me. She always did. But keeping Eve hidden and keeping her alive, that couldn’t wait. That was the only damn priority I had right now.I started for the door, thumb swiping my phone screen to clear notifications. Then I remembered… the text that had buzzed before Mum’s call.I opened it.It was from Bellamy. A photo.What. The. Fuck?My stomach dropped.The screen lit up with hellfire — my warehouse, the one I’d poured every drop of sweat and blood into for Project 210, engulfed in flames. The roof collapsed. Black smoke clawing for the sky. It brought back old, ugly, sour memories.Under the photo was a text.Bellamy: The fire just started. No trace at all. Everything is being razed to the ground.Fucking Saint!There wasn’t a u