Page 57 of Black Castle

The reason he has been caged all this while is her. That fragile little thing.

Zev’s fingers twitch against his thigh, nails pressing into his skin. He has suspected it before, but hearing Lucan confirm it sends something venomous slithering through his gut. Who the hell is this girl? Where did she come from? What gives her the right to interfere in his existence?

He wants to find her. Tear her apart just to see what makes her so special. Just to see what will break first—her mind or her body.

“So, you’re denying me my right because of her?” His voice is low, edged with something sharp.

Lucan scoffs, brow lifted. “Your right?” His head tilts back against the couch, his lid heavy. “Since when did borrowing my body become your right?”

“Since you denied me of my own body.” Zev’s words are laced with venom, years of suppressed rage and hate. “Since you killed me before I even had a chance to be born.”

Lucan exhales through his nose, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. “For how long are you going to keep using this against me?”

Zev leans forward, elbows on his knees, cigarette burning between his fingers. “For as long as I don’t have a flesh of my own.”

Silence stretches between the two brothers, thick with tension and the acrid scent of smoke.

Zev breaks it first. “I’m tired of being locked away.” His voice is softer, but no less dangerous. “I need to stretch. I need to hunt. And most of all, I need to help you look for the ledger, since you clearly haven’t figured out a way. And I can’t do this without a fucking body, so why don’t you quit being stubborn and let me have control?”

Lucan lets his head roll to the side, observing his ever deceptive brother with deadened eyes. “I’m not giving you control, Zev.”

Zev inhales sharply, jaw working. Lucan may be weak-minded, easily manipulated. But it’s no lie that he’s also a very stubborn fellow. And whatever spell the girl has cast on him is quite strong. He will not break easily at this point. Not with a brute force, at least.

“I won’t touch her,” Zev says smoothly. It’s not exactly a lie. He will try his best to resist the temptation. But if he as much as catches a whiff of her while in control, then this truth will easily become a lie.

Lucan’s eyes narrow. “Since when have you ever done what I wanted, Zev?”

Zev smirks. “Since I became desperate.” He stubs out his cigarette, crushing the embers on the glass coffee table. “I’m giving you my word, now. I won’t touch her. I won’t go looking for her. I won’t even think about her.”

Lucan studies him, deliberating. Zev is a pathological liar, a manipulative bastard. To trust him is a foolish and thoughtless decision. But there is also a fact that he’s exhausted, bones aching, mind fraying at the edges.

Then there’s the weight of Vivienne that’s also quite unbearable. She’s in his thoughts, under his skin, clawing at him from the inside. Staying away from her is the most difficult thing he has ever had to do in his life. It has been for him like an addict resisting a pull of his next fix. The craving for her is insidious, burrowing into his bones, whispering to him in quiet moments before sleep takes over.

It’s been two weeks since he said goodbye to her. But even then, it had already been too late. Because then, she was already in his bloodstream, an intoxicant more potent that any drug he has ever known. The longer it has been without hearing her voice, the worse the withdrawal gets.

He tried burying his mind, soul, and body into work. He has overexerted himself, his mind and body close to shutting down. But it hasn’t been working. His finger keeps twitching with the ghost of her touch. His lungs are too tight, throat too dry.

Every thought keeps looping back to her. Every breath is thick with the need to see her, to watch the way her lips part before she says anything.

When he realized she had blocked him right after he left that day, it had shattered him. The feeling was like a dagger clawing out his heart. But he also felt that was safer for both of them. But it was worse. That he couldn’t even talk to her no matter the distance has left him pacing around his room on numerous occasions.

A madman he has become.

The thin thread of restraint he has been gripping onto with white-knuckled desperation is about to snap. All he needs is someone to even mention her name. All he needs is a fleeting moment and he will break. And he doesn’t want to break. He doesn’t want to drag her into his world. It’s far too dangerous. Too cruel.

Giving Zev control will never be a good idea. He’s already far too fascinated with the idea of breaking her. The moment he takes over control, he will go hunting for her.

He can’t risk that. He will rather die than let her ever be in the same space with Zev.

“No,” Lucan says, his tone firm, leaving no room for bargain. “I can’t give you control, Zev.”

The corner of Zev’s mouth lifts, his grin a jagged thing, sharp enough to slice through bones.

“Brother, brother, brother,” Zev drawls, his voice low, measured, but there’s something unhinged lurking beneath it, something coiled and waiting. “Only if you’d realize already, that the longer you’ve kept me locked away in the darkness like this, the more patient I’ve become.” He taps his finger against his knee, a slow, deliberate action, then lifts his gaze—dark, bottomless, angry. “The more powerful I’ll become.”

He leans back into the leather chair, his lighter slowly being twirled around his fingers. “Enjoy the control while it lasts. Because soon, I’ll snatch it from you. And then, you’ll become nothing but a phantom—a nameless, fleshless ghost. Just like me.” His words slither into the dimly lit room, curling into the air like cigarette smoke—poisonous, inescapable.

Lucan feels it; a crawling suffocating presence seeping into the cracks of his mind, pressing against the wall of his sanity.

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