Deadly Nightshade MXMXM

XXVIII

After the dinner fiasco, Azrael stormed up the winding staircase, his footsteps heavy with anger and frustration. Lucian and Kieran followed behind him, their movements calm, almost lazy, as if the chaotic events at the dinner table hadn't fazed them in the slightest.

Once inside the twins' quarters, Azrael could barely contain the rage simmering just beneath his skin. The large, ornate doors clicked shut behind them, and Azrael spun around to face Lucian and Kieran. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the fireplace casting long shadows across the walls, but it did little to soothe the fury that had built up within him.

"Are you just going to stand there and say nothing?!" Azrael's voice trembled with anger, his chest heaving. He felt like he was about to explode, his emotions twisted into a knot of betrayal, confusion, and unyielding rage. "They treated me like I was nothing! Like I was some kind of toy you brought back from the academy! And you said nothing!"

The twins exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them as they watched Azrael with predatory intensity. Their expressions were unreadable, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him. Lucian, with his dark, smoldering gaze, stepped forward, his lips curving into a slow, almost wicked smile.

"You looked so hot when you were angry," Lucian murmured, his voice low and filled with a dark, teasing edge.

Kieran, who had been leaning casually against the wall, pushed off and moved to stand beside his brother. "We couldn't take our eyes off you," he added, his tone equally suggestive. "The way you stood up to them, the fire in your eyes... It was intoxicating."

Azrael's breath caught in his throat, his rage momentarily forgotten as the twins' words sank in. The compliments were unexpected, almost disarming, but they only served to stoke the flames of his anger further. They weren't taking him seriously—they were toying with him, treating his fury as some kind of entertainment.

His hand moved before he could stop it, and with a sharp crack, his palm connected with Lucian's cheek. The sound echoed in the stillness of the room, followed by a heavy silence. Azrael's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized what he'd done. But instead of the anger or retaliation he expected, he was met with something far more unsettling.

Lucian slowly turned his head back to face him, his cheek already reddening from the slap. But instead of fury, his eyes gleamed with something dark, something primal. Hunger.

Kieran's gaze was no different, his eyes fixed on Azrael with a similar intensity, a mix of desire and amusement flickering behind his cold exterior.

Azrael felt a shiver run down his spine as the atmosphere in the room shifted. The tension between them crackled like electricity, thick and suffocating. He could see it in their eyes, the way they were looking at him—like wolves circling their prey. His pulse quickened, not just with anger, but with something more, something dangerous that he couldn't quite name.

Lucian's hand slowly rose to touch the spot where Azrael had slapped him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're full of surprises," he said, his voice a low purr. "I wonder what other surprises you have in store for us."

Kieran took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Azrael's. "Do it again," he whispered, his voice dark and commanding. "Let's see how far we can push you."

Azrael's breath hitched, his mind reeling. He wanted to be angry, wanted to scream at them, but their words and the raw desire in their eyes were doing something to him—something he wasn't ready to confront.

The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with anticipation. He could feel his pulse in his throat, his body trembling with a mixture of fear, anger, and a strange, forbidden excitement. What was happening to him? Why did their words, their stares, ignite something so volatile within him?

He wanted to run, to get as far away from them as possible, but at the same time, a part of him was drawn to them, to the danger they represented, to the darkness they offered.

Azrael took a shaky step back, his resolve crumbling as the twins advanced on him, their eyes burning with that insatiable hunger. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice barely a whisper.

Lucian and Kieran exchanged another glance, their smirks widening. "Everything," Lucian answered, his voice a velvet caress.

"And nothing less," Kieran added, his tone a dark promise.

Azrael's heart thundered in his chest as they closed the distance between them, his anger forgotten, replaced by a deep, terrifying anticipation. The twins were like shadows, engulfing him, consuming him. And despite every instinct telling him to resist, to fight back, he felt himself drawn into their orbit, powerless to escape.