Page 28 of True Bastard
Her name was a whisper against the roaring of my mind, a forbidden balm to a wound I didn’t know I had. This desire was a weakness, a betrayal of the hard-won strength that had carved out my place in this world. To turn away from my brothers, from this ingrained loyalty, felt like a self-inflicted wound, a deliberate act of sabotage. Yet, the thought of her, the imagined warmth of her skin, the surrender in her eyes, was a siren song I couldn’t resist.
I was torn between the man I was supposed to be and the man I was becoming, and the choice felt like a gamble with my very soul. If I went to her, would I ever truly be one of them again? Could I live with the knowledge that I’d abandoned my brothers, even just for a night, for a whim? The shame of itburned, but the pull of Kyllian was a fire I was already walking into, a choice I was already regretting before I’d even made it.
Walking over to the bar, Xzibit slid a cold beer toward me. “Congrats, brother. You found the fucker.”
I took a large gulp from the bottle and looked around the room, sighing.
“Why the long face? You collected the debt, you have a smoking hot bitch upstairs, and Morpheus is happy. What’s the problem?”
“Everything,” I muttered, taking another pull of my beer as Morpheus slid onto the stool next to me while Xzibit vanished.
“Change your mind already?” Morpheus chuckled.
“Maybe,” I groaned. “I don’t know.”
“You know she won’t stay, brother. Save yourself the pain. Go fuck the bitch. Get her out of your system and then walk away. It’s the Bastard way.”
“What if I want more?”
“If you wanted more, you’d already be balls deep in her snatch. Instead, you are sitting here sulking like a little bitch.” Morpheus sighed, reaching across the bar for a bottle of whiskey. Removing the cap, he chugged a large swallow before slamming the bottle down onto the bar and growling, “It’s always the golden pussy.”
“Excuse me?”
Shaking his head, Morpheus turned in his seat and waved his arm toward the brothers. “Look at them, Firestride. Our brothers are happy tonight. They have everything they want. Every brother here has pussy at their disposal. They can fuck any cunt until their dick falls off, but throw in a golden pussy and, well, it’s game over. I’ve seen it happen. Time and time again. A brother who has everything will turn his back on his family for a chance to sink his dick into that golden pussy.”
I smirked. “And you know this experience, how?”
“I had a golden pussy once.” Morpheus sighed. “I walked—no, I ran away from everything for her, and for a short few months, I was happy. Truly happy. But it didn’t last. Nothing good ever lasts in this life, brother. Remember that.”
“What was her name?”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s dead now,” Morpheus whispered, then added, “What I’m trying to say is, it doesn’t matter what you want, or what you think you can have. In the end, you will be right back here with us. A Bastard to the core, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”
He grabbed his whiskey bottle and stood, the amber liquid a swirling, mocking invitation. “Just remember,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial murmur. “The Brotherhood is your family. The only family that will ever matter. Don’t trade that for a fleeting moment of happiness, Firestride. I’ve seen it happen. It always ends in disaster.”
I met his gaze as a familiar weariness settled over me.
He was right, of course.
This was the life I’d chosen, the path I walked. Kyllian was a complication, a dangerous detour, a flame that threatened to consume the carefully constructed walls around my heart. But as I stared at my half-empty bottle, at the reflection of my own grim determination in the polished wood of the bar, a cold, hard truth settled in... I wasn’t sure I wanted to be saved from the fire anymore.
“I need to see for myself, Morpheus,” I said, my words coming out rougher than I intended. “I need to know for sure.”
My admission was a confession, a surrender to the inevitable.
Morpheus studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before finally nodding. “Go ahead then. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Once you’ve stepped over that line, there’s no coming back.”
I stood, feeling the weight of Morpheus’ words settle like iron around my ribcage. The bar felt colder now, the laughter in the dim corners distant and hollow. Fear flickered in my chest, but beneath it pulsed a reckless anticipation—a longing to touch the danger, to see if the fire could forge me into something stronger or burn me to ash entirely. With each step toward my door, I left behind certainty and the Brotherhood for the promise of something wild, something that might not be worth the cost. My hand hesitated on the handle. A thousand warnings echoed in my mind, but still, I pushed forward, chasing the truth, even if it meant setting my entire world ablaze.
“You lying bastard!” Kyllian shouted as she hurled a book at my head. “You are a sleazy, vile, rotten lying son of a bitch! You were never going to let me go, were you?”
Ducking fast, I slammed my door shut. Leaning against it, I felt the door tremble as another book hit it while she continued to spew her vitriol loudly. Laughter to my left had me slowly turning my head to see Morpheus, Cerberus, and most of the club’s officers either grinning or laughing outright.
Fucking bastards.
She continued to rage, a torrent of curses and accusations that battered against the thick oak door. Each thud of a book, each guttural shriek, was a testament to her unbroken spirit—a fire that, despite Morpheus’ warnings, I found myself increasingly drawn to. Around me, the laughter of my brothers was a brutal counterpoint, a soundtrack to their amusement at my predicament. They saw it as a game, a conquest, a temporary diversion. But I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that Kyllian was more than just a prize.
She was a force.
