Page 59 of Cursed
I turn away from them both, unwilling to examine this change too closely. Evolution or weakness—either possibility disturbs me.
I clench my fists at my sides, restraining the impulse to grab Vane by the throat. My brothers have always known exactly which buttons to push, and right now, he’s pressing all of them. The rage builds inside me like a pressure cooker, threateningto explode in a display of violence that would leave even Vane reconsidering his taunts.
“What’s wrong, Landon?” Vane continues. “Did your little butterfly rub off on you? Turn the big bad wolf into a?—”
“Enough.” Xavier’s voice cuts through the room like a blade. He steps between us, his red mask hiding his mouth but not the authority in his tone. “Both of you, shut the fuck up.”
Vane bristles, never one to back down easily. “I’m just making observations, X. Our brother seems to have lost his edge.”
Xavier turns to face Vane fully, his posture shifting subtly. “I said enough. The ceremony begins in ten minutes. Save your energy for your prey instead of trying to provoke our brother.”
“But—”
“Did I stutter?” Xavier’s voice drops an octave, the tone he reserves for when his orders are non-negotiable. “Back off, Vane.”
To my surprise, Xavier then positions himself in front of me, a subtle but clear signal to our brothers. He’s taking my side, creating a barrier between me and Vane’s provocations.
“Landon handles his prey his way,” Xavier states. “As we all do. That’s the point of the Hunt.”
What surprises me most is that Xavier seems to understand exactly what’s happening inside me—the violence I’m barely containing, the storm brewing beneath my skin. It’s as if he can sense the murderous impulses flowing through my veins, the dark urges that Vane’s taunting has stirred to life.
Knox wisely retreats further into his corner, recognizing the dangerous tension building in the room. Vane holds Xavier’s gaze for several seconds before backing away with a dismissive shrug.
“Whatever you say, X. Just trying to have some fun.”
I watch Vane retreat, my hands balled into fists so tight my nails cut half-moons into my palms. The pain keeps me grounded when what I really want is to wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze until the light fades from his eyes.
This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to kill one of my brothers, but I sure as hell feel close to snapping. Vane’s taunts cut deeper than usual—perhaps because he’s touched on a truth I’m not ready to face.
Tonight, the violence churning inside me feels less disciplined than usual. The careful compartmentalization I’ve maintained my entire life is breaking down. I attribute this disruption to Sadie—her presence in my mind has altered a fundamental part of me.
I take a deep breath, uncurling my fingers. Not here. Not now. The Hunt has rules, and killing my brother would certainly violate them. Besides, what truly matters is still ahead—the claiming ceremony and Sadie.
25
SADIE
Awoman guides me through ornate double doors back into the orgy room. My heart hammers against my ribs, and before I can process anything, Landon materializes beside me, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulls me against him.
“Mine,” he growls against my ear. His grip is punishing, possessive in a way that sends equal parts fear and arousal through me.
I try to scan the room to understand what this claiming ceremony entails, but Landon’s presence overwhelms my senses. His body heat radiates through the thin fabric of my dress, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks on my skin.
Xavier’s voice echoes through the chamber, but the words blur together as Landon’s thumb traces my lower lip, his eyes burning into mine behind his mask.
“Do you understand what’s happening, little butterfly?” His voice drops lower, meant only for me. “We’re deciding if we want to keep our prey, but I’ve already decided. You were mine before you ever set foot in here.”
His fingers tighten on my waist. I wince at the pressure, but Landon doesn’t relent.
“I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he promises, his lips brushing against my temple. “I’ll tear them apart while you watch.”
The look in his eyes isn’t only possession—it’s fixation. A dangerous madness that should send me running yet holds me frozen in place.
“Your heart is racing,” he observes, pressing his palm flat against my chest. “Are you afraid of me, Sadie? Or afraid of how much you want me?”
I can’t answer. The most terrifying revelation isn’t what Landon’s done to me throughout this Hunt. It’s what he’s awakened inside me—the darker needs I’ve spent years denying. Since my assault, I’ve built walls, locked away desires too shameful to acknowledge. Landon didn’t merely find those walls—he obliterated them, forcing me to face everything I’ve hidden, even from myself.
And now, somehow, he’s become the only one who makes sense in this twisted reality. The only one who sees the broken pieces and doesn’t look away. The horrifying truth settles in my chest: I need him. After tearing me open and exposing my rawest wounds, he’s become the balm I crave.
