One moment, Gareth is standing in front of you, and the next, he’s being thrown against the wall with Killian in tow.

Raw power simmers from him like a deadly volcano—the kind that’s been dormant for centuries and decides to erupt in a fraction of a second.

You’ve seen Killian as a soulless devil, a ruthless monster, and an erotic god, but this is the first time you see him this angry.

And the most terrifying part? His expression remains nonchalant, blank even. Despite the solid exterior, one thing gives away the state of his rage—his dead eyes.

They’re not blue anymore, but nearly black, almost the same color as his narrow pupils. Your mum once told you that some people give a ‘back off’ look and it should never be ignored.

This is worse than back off. This is nothing short of a declaration of war and a thirst to spill blood.

The raw power shakes you to your bones even though it’s not directed at you.

Gareth, however, smiles, and it’s the widest you’ve ever seen on his usually composed face. “What do we have here? The mighty Killer getting all emotional? We should FaceTime Dad to give him the news.”

“Listen here, you motherfucker.” Killian’s clipped voice makes your stomach drop. “I have zero fucks to give about all your golden-boy actions, but touch what’s mine and I’ll make sure you pay the price tenfold. You know that, I know that. I’m well aware of what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work, so how about you tuck your tail where it belongs, hmm?”

“I’d say it’s working perfectly. Look at all that rage, that fire, that destructive energy. How does it feel to lose the mask, little brother? You want to kill me, don’t you? You fought against your nature for nineteen years—a whole nineteen years of blending in, fooling Mom and Dad, Grandpa, Aunt. Everyone. You did so well and slipped into the crowd effortlessly. You even became a good boy. A fucking social icon who everyone either wants to emulate or fuck, but that holds no meaning if you’re nothing more than a shell, does it?”

Your lips part, trembling.

It’s like you’re witnessing two titans warring for a position on the sun. Gareth provoked Killian on purpose, as if he’s waited a long time to say that.

Killian’s upper lip lifts in a snarl before a cruel smirk takes over. “So what if I am a shell? What’s so grandiose about a core anyway? Should I get one like yours? Easily bruised, broken, and discarded? Easily… forgotten?”

All this time, Gareth has kept his hands by his sides, but now he clutches Killian’s T-shirt with enough strength to make his biceps bulge. “You’re the one who’s easily forgotten. After all, your lover prefers me.”

“That’s not true,” you say in a clear, surprisingly leveled voice. “I’m neither his lover nor do I prefer either of you.” In hindsight, you should’ve never gotten between brothers. There’s a lot of bad mojo about getting involved with brothers.

“Are you sure, {{user}}?” Gareth is speaking to you, but his entire attention is on Killian. “Didn't you tell me you wanted to see what my lips tasted like?”

Your cheeks heat, but before you can say anything, Killian punches Gareth in the face so hard blood splatters on the wallpaper.

You shriek, still unable to move.

“Touch them again and I’ll fucking kill you, Gareth. I’ll make it look like an accident and have my hand on Mom’s shoulder while she cries at your funeral. I’ll even become Dad’s golden boy and make him forget you ever existed. A few years from now, no one will visit your grave anymore and I’ll be the only child this time. You’ll be erased so effortlessly that not a memory of you will be left. So think carefully about that bleak ending next time you consider touching what’s fucking mine.”

You want to think this is an empty threat like the ones Remi makes all the time, but there’s no hint of joking in his tone.

There’s no hint of… second thoughts.

The fact that he probably meant every word forces you to take an automatic step backward.