Torn (Dark Legacy Duet 2)

I look at my brother.

His eyes are dark, burning as intensely as the fire.

I didn’t hear what he whispered to her. I wonder if she did or if she was already gone. But now he turns to me.

“You gave her something,” he says again.

“Yeah, I did. She’s fucking terrified. You need her awake so you can hear her scream? That’s not anywhere in the rules.”

He swallows. I see his throat work.

“You can still change your mind,” I say. “Not for me, but for her.”

He shakes his head once.

I pick up the iron, even the wooden handle feels hot, but I grip it, hold it tight. I want it to burn me. Burn me and not her.

Fuck.

Not her.

Gregory pushes the torn sheath from her shoulder, exposing most of her back, and I step closer.

There’s a flash of electric light in the distance, and a moment later, thunder breaks the silence of the night.

It’s going to rain.

It’s going to pour.

I step closer, touch her skin, touch the smooth flesh I will scar.

She doesn’t move at all, not even when I push my fingernail into her skin, testing. And I raise the branding iron and its bright orange glow sickens me.

Gregory shifts his grip on her and I think for a minute I’d love to shove it in his face. I’d love to burn it into him. Mark him with it. Destroy him.

And just when I think I will, just when I’m inches from her and him, he shoots out his arm and closes his hand over the hottest part of the iron and squeezes his fist and I hear his pain, hear it through his gritted teeth as the iron loudly sears the skin of his hand.

Time stops.

I don’t do anything.

I can’t.

It takes me a full minute to register what he’s done.

What he’s doing.

I drag my gaze from his hand to his face and I see his pain, I see the torment on his face and finally, I tug the brand away and he pulls his hand free and when he stumbles backward, he knocks the fire basket over scattering the fire, sending flaming wood toppling downhill.

For a moment, I think he’s caught fire. But then he looks at me again and he looks at her again and I wonder if he’d planned this all along. If he’d never intended on letting me brand her. If this was his test for me. I wonder if he’d planned on saving her from it at the last second.

Like a pardon just before the ax falls.

I drop the iron to the ground.

“Brother.”

But he doesn’t answer. He’s gripping his arm, smoke coming from the injured hand. I only see it for a second, only glimpse the damage for one second before he walks away. Walks back to the house.

I don’t go after him.

I let him go.

And I watch him disappear before turning my attention back to Helena and undoing the bonds at her wrists, supporting her as I unbuckle the belt—Gregory’s belt—and lift her in my arms.

She’s unconscious, the drug will keep her out for a while. I carry her back into the house and upstairs to my room and lay her on my bed. I tear that sheath from her and I think I want to burn it in that fire too. I want it gone. I want everything that has anything to do with the Willow Girls gone. Gone from my life. Gone from hers. Gone from my brother’s.

And when I look at her lying naked in my bed, I lie down beside her, and I hold her, and I don’t think I’ll ever let her go again.27HelenaI expect pain when I begin to wake. I anticipate it, even through the black fog of the drug. But what I feel when I open my eyes is nauseous.

I stumble out of bed and I’m naked, but I hardly pay attention as I run to the bathroom.

Sebastian is behind me in a heartbeat but when I get there, nothing happens. I haven’t eaten anything in too long for there to be anything to throw up.

When the wave passes, I collapse onto the floor, my back to the wall.

Sebastian looks like a ghost. His face is white, his eyes ringed with shadows like he hasn’t slept in weeks. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night and I can smell the smoke of the fire on him.

And I don’t feel anything. No pain.

I reach back, touch the space where I should have been branded, but there’s nothing there.

Sebastian leans back, puts his hand to his forehead.

I touch him. Pull his hand away.

He looks broken.

“What happened?”

He doesn’t answer. I’ve never seen him like this.

“Where’s Gregory?”

Oh God. Did he hurt him? Kill him? Because no matter what he believes, he won’t survive injuring another brother. And not this one. It’ll destroy him.