Page 5 of Unbroken

I can see him move closer, then he pauses. “You look like shit, pretty boy. You need to feed,” he says as I give him a “no shit Sherlock” look in reply. I want to wipe the smug look off his face.

“I can only feed from my fated Mate,” I admit.

“Bullshit. You need to take what you need so you don’t fucking lose your mind, Lyrik.” He takes another step closer, and I stand up straight, swaying on my feet.

“I will not feed unless it’s from Micah,” I reply.

“She’s not awake yet, you fool, you are already too far gone.” His eyes search mine, and for the first time I see genuine concern on his face.

“Then I suggest you get me as close to her as possible and lock me up.” I can almost feel myself vaporizing, losing my corporeal form.

“Lock you up? Why?” he questions. I bet he’s wondering why an Incubus needs to be contained, but ultimately, I am Demon by nature. Yes, I feed off sexual energy, but there is so much more to me.

“I don’t think I can contain the monster much longer,” I whisper as my magic begins to swirl wildly all around me. I’ve never in my existence let myself get this far gone. I don’t know what the implications of this means for me. My only hope is that my meus amor comes back to me soon. I need her and I need her now.

“Damn it, pretty boy. You owe me big time,” Rooks says as his own shadows wrap around mine; purple and black intermingle together as he wraps me up tight and we both tumble into the Underworld.

ChapterThree

TRYS

Iwant to kill him. The urge is so strong I'm finding it harder every day to distract myself. My brothers are no help. Hell, they are fighting their own monsters. Me. I lost myself to my madness a long time ago. Me and my crazy usually have an understanding, but since we've been in the Underworld, things have changed. The deepest, darkest parts of me, the parts I thought I had control over, sink their barbed claws into me, spreading venom, and with it my anger and rage has become uncontrollable. All I see is death and destruction, whether I’m asleep or awake. Nothing is helping. I feel out of control.

I miss my sunshine; my light that snuffs out all the black that taints my thoughts and brings me back from the brink. It's been two fucking weeks and we are all losing this internal battle with our Demonic selves. If our sire is not found soon, I dread to think of what will become of me. Of us.

I pick up a delicious piece of bacon and chew it thoughtfully for a moment. Moaning at the salty, meaty goodness, I address my brothers, "Don't you both enjoy DinFast?" I say to them as they look up from their own food, which they seem to be pushing around on their plates in front of them. "Or maybe Brupper is better?" I tilt my head, lost in thought, then snap my fingers. "No, wait. Brinner! That's the one. Oh shit, no Supfast! The possibilities are endless.”

"Get out of your head, Trys," Ty says from the opposite side of the dining room table. There is always food available at any time of day or night. I mean, trying to differentiate between the two is very difficult here in the Underworld. There’s a dark red, maroonish sky that I tend to associate with night here, and then there is the bright red color, which I assume is the daytime.

"I am not in my head. In fact, I am thinking about murder. There are no thoughts to be had, just need for action. Like my various names for describing what we call this in front of us," I say with a feral grin on my face, gesturing to the food piled high on the table before me.

Ty rolls his eyes, his hair braided on one side of his head and wild like my own on the other. This is Ty's own version of untidy, but the Demoness who attempted to finish the job had her flimsy little throat cut for asking about our Tether. Micah is a very sensitive subject for us. A part of me felt bad, she was only showing concern, but I'm starting to have little to no empathy. I think that might be a problem. Without my sunshine, my gives-no-fucks meter is at zero.

"You can't kill Micah's brother, Trys. I thought we had discussed this." Rodyn sighs in exasperation, rubbing his tired eyes then stretching his arms over his head.

Out of the three of us, he’s managing to control his urges the best, but just barely. He’s traded in his suits and ties for shorts and muscle t-shirts. He spends most of his time in the sparring room, as if he is fighting through his rage with Rook and sometimes even Bishop.

Ty and I keep to ourselves, our powers are so unpredictable at the moment, the last thing we need is our Necromantic abilities to lash out, snatching souls from bodies and murdering innocent or important people. I don't think Micah would forgive me if I killed her father before she even got a chance to really know the man. I mean Archangel, Demon? She's already lost one dad. Fuck.Focus,Trys! My mind is all over the place. I try to reach for something, anything to ground me and I come up with nothing.

I lean on the table, placing my head in my hands and blow out an exhausted breath. "Ro Ro. I can't shake it. When I visit Micah in the bed upstairs, my sweet sunshine doesn't even know I'm there." I slam my hand on the table in frustration. "All I want to do is hurt the man who put her there." I swallow down the burning acid in my throat and try to control the growl threatening to bubble up out of me.

"Michael," Rodyn and Ty say in unison, making me grit my teeth. I watch them both look at each other and I know they are silently talking about me without saying anything out loud. It's a triplet thing.

"Marcus didn't hurt his sister, Trys." Rodyn stands, his hands clenching at his sides as he looks towards the exit. I don't even have to guess where he's off to. I can only assume he’s thinking about that night and how he couldn’t get to our girl in time. I know how hard it was for him to hold her when he thought she’d died in his arms. This is our daily, no nightly routine. I think the three of us are struggling with our emotions, especially without Micah’s Tether to anchor us. Ty's knives appear out of nowhere as usual and he begins to twirl one through his fingers while he stabs the table with the other. I have no doubt our aggression is feeding each other’s. . .again that whole shared womb thing.

I hold up my hands in surrender, trying to calm myself and them. "I know. I know. But it's hard to stop the voices from convincing me otherwise." Logically, I know that Marcus was under somebody else’s control, and I have no doubt that Michael will get what’s coming to him. But when I see Marcus’s face, it’s hard to disconnect my feelings.

“Contain your crazy ass or you will be locked up like Professor Bodin,” Ty says as he lifts his knife once more and plunges it into a sausage on his plate. Our trusty professor could barely keep it together when Rook brought him back here yesterday. I shudder at the thought of not being able to move around. It appears our bitch of a mother is MIA, and good riddance to her. Wherever she is I hope she’s fucking suffering. She didn’t have the decency to at least show up when students and faculty were dropping like flies against the Light Guardian’s blades. Lyrik has been working tirelessly for weeks trying to look after both the campus and the students at HellNight. I’m not surprised he’s reached the end of his strength as he’s been starving himself.

Rodyn huffs. I can see the indecision in his eyes as he looks at us, then up at the ceiling, as if he can see Micah asleep in her bed in the tower. His eyes shift to the door again, and like I thought he would, he heads off towards the exit, only to be stopped by Bishop.

Micah's father steps in front of him and places one hand on his chest. "You might want to sit down for this, Rodyn. In fact, Ty, put your knives away, and Trys. . ." He looks at me like he doesn't know what to say. "Just don't move."

Bishop turns Rodyn around and my brother allows him to guide him back to the table. In the past few weeks Bishop and Rook have become the people we've had to lean on, and it hasn't been too bad to have them in our corners. Micah will be pleased to see that we are all getting along. Like a big, crazy, dysfunctional family.

"Sit." He pushes Rodyn into a chair and all three of us look up at him in concern.

"Bishop, what's up?" Ty asks, and I instantly go on alert. Rodyn stands and I follow. Like hell will I be sitting in front of my Brinner and left unawares.

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