He Who Controls the Flame (001 fanfic)

Chapter Twenty Seven- Ghosts of the Past

"Shit," Seven muttered. But his words seemed to sail right over my head. All I could hear was Sebastian's voice in my head over and over again, his words bouncing off of the inner walls of my brain, making my temples pound.

See, your precious Peter isn't a Peter at all. His real name is Henry Creel. And he's been lying to you this whole time.

"Sebastian," I breathed. "Stop."

Sebastian's dark eyes were on Peter though, a cruel smirk lilting his lips. "Don't you want to know who you've been with, Juliette? Whose whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Whose lips have been pressed to yours? Whose fingers have been inside you?"

I growled and surged forward, smacking my hand against the bars, sending steam wafting upwards. It wasn't a lot, and just that effort had me swaying, but it was enough to make him flinch. And that was the sweetest victory. Seeing his face pale as he stepped away from the bars. Away from me.

"Shut the fuck up," I said. "Do you think this makes me want you? Do you think this makes you brave? Do you think you'd have the balls to say all this if he wasn't trapped behind bars, Sebastian?"

His upper lip twitched in disgust and I snickered. "You're a coward. A bully. You're nothing." I spat at him, my spittle landing squarely on his cheek. There was a moment of stunned silence, then he suddenly reached forward and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt.

He wrenched me forward so that I was pressed against the metal. I let out a grunt as it pressed rudely against my face and collarbones with a bruising force.

"How dare you?" he rasped in my ear and I could feel his hot breath against my cheek. It was nauseating.

He pressed me against the bars harder and I cried out, my eyes filling with tears, when suddenly...he stopped.

I opened my eyes to see that a hand was wrapped around Sebastian's wrist. I felt something hard brush my back, a chest, lined with muscle, so tense it felt like titanium.

"Off," Peter growled. Sebastian's fingers sprung apart immediately and I stumbled backwards. Peter's arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me. Once he was sure I was stable, he stepped away from me and I had half the urge to reach out to him and clamp my arms around him like a kid clinging to their parent to keep them from leaving. I did that to my father once, I didn't do it ever again.

Sebastian fixed his collar, his breathing heavy. I could already see a dark bruise forming at his wrist, four individual lines where each of Peter's fingers were. The sight made a heat simmer between my legs, though I didn't know why.

"So, Sebby, you've got some explaining to do," Allison said, crossing her arms, leaning against the wall.

Sebastian glared at her, rebuttoning the top button of his shirt. "That's not my name," he said. I felt my brows raise and he sighed, finally done fidgeting with his suit. "My real name is Sevastyan. Sebastian was an alias. An american name."

"You said you were from Europe," I muttered, remembering our rooftop dinner and how he had thrown that in in his hour-long monologue about himself. What a fucking narcassist.

"For once," Sebastian muttered, "a smart thought." I scowled at him and he smirked at me. "I'm from Russia."

"You work with the Russian scientists. Brenner's opponents." Peter crossed his arms, somehow looking menacing in his plain gray shirt and pants.

"Another one," Sebastian said, letting out a laugh. "You guys are on a roll."

No one laughed. Seven visibly cringed.