Deadly Nightshade MXMXM

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Azrael stood in the center of the twins' quarters, still shaking with fury. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the room had gone still, the lingering tension like a storm hovering on the horizon. Lucien and Kieran had stepped back, their dark gazes fixed on him, as if waiting for something , waiting for him to crack.

His body betrayed him, still thrumming with unspoken need despite the humiliation, despite their cruel words. The worst part was that he could feel their pull, a magnetic force drawing him toward them, toward the very people he had sworn to hate.

He felt torn between his pride and the strange, aching desire that refused to dissipate.

Kieran, always the more calculating of the two, watched him with an amused smile as if reading his every thought. "You're still standing there, Azrael. Still thinking you can resist. But we see through you."

Lucien remained quiet, a smirk tugging at his lips, though the mark on his cheek still burned red from the slap. He didn't look angry — far from it. In fact, the intensity of his gaze told Azrael that Lucien enjoyed it, reveled in the defiance and the tension between them.

"You think we're going to break you tonight?" Kieran said, circling him slowly, his steps soft and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. "No, we like watching you struggle. Watching you hold onto that last scrap of control."

Azrael's jaw clenched, his pulse racing as Kieran's words sank in. He could feel their eyes on him, could feel the weight of their presence. But something inside him, a flicker of defiance, kept him grounded. "You think you've won," Azrael finally bit out, his voice rough, shaking with barely contained emotion. "But you won't. Not like this."

Lucien raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Oh, we're not trying to win tonight. Love " He stepped closer, his eyes blazing as he ran a hand down Azrael's chest, stopping just short of anything intimate. The touch was infuriatingly light, teasing. "We're just playing with you, seeing how far you'll go before you crack . Because make no mistake, Azrael — you will break."

Azrael glared at them, the heat in his stomach flaring into a tight knot of anger. "I'm not a thing you play with ," he spat, stepping back to break Lucien's touch. "And I'm not going to let you control me like this."

Kieran's laugh was soft, mocking. "Control? No, Azrael. You're giving us exactly what we want. Every time you fight, every time you resist, you just make us want you more. And you want us, don't you? Even if you won't admit it."

The words struck a chord deep inside Azrael, a truth he wasn't ready to face. He could feel the heat rising to his face, not just from embarrassment but from the undeniable attraction that pulsed between them. His heart pounded in his chest as he fought to maintain control over himself, knowing that any sign of weakness would only spur them on.

But Kieran wasn't done. "You can keep pretending all you want," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moved behind Azrael, his breath hot against his ear. "But deep down, you already belong to us."

Lucien moved closer again, his gaze locking onto Azrael's, daring him to break eye contact. "We'll wait as long as it takes. The longer you fight, the sweeter it'll be when you finally surrender. And we can see it in your eyes, Azrael. You want to."

Azrael's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His mind screamed at him to push them away, to run, but his body — traitorous, weak — responded to their every word, every teasing touch. He hated it. Hated how much control they seemed to have over him.

But what he hated most was how much he wanted to give in.

His silence was all the confirmation they needed.

Kieran's hand came up to rest on Azrael's shoulder, squeezing lightly, a gentle but possessive gesture that made Azrael's skin burn. "We're not asking for your surrender now," he murmured. "Just know that when you're ready, we'll be waiting."

Lucien's smirk widened as he stepped back, satisfied. "And you will be ready. Sooner than you think."

With that, they turned away, leaving Azrael standing there, trembling with unresolved desire and a fury that refused to subside.

And as much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to fight the pull, he knew that something had shifted inside him tonight.

He was falling.

And he didn't know how to stop.

After the confrontation, Lucien and Kieran exchanged knowing glances before they turned and left the room without another word. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Azrael alone, still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breath, heart pounding as if it were trying to escape the tension that had settled in the room.

For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. The rage that had burned so hot within him now left an empty, hollow feeling in its wake. He replayed every word, every glance, every touch from the twins, and it only made his head spin more. They had toyed with him, teased him, but more than anything, they had awakened something dangerous inside him—something that terrified him.

Azrael closed his eyes, willing the heat in his body to fade, but it lingered, buzzing under his skin. He was angry—angrier than he had ever been—but he was also tired. The confrontation had drained him of more than just fury. It had taken something from him, something vital, leaving him feeling weak and raw.

With a shaky sigh, he walked over to the bed, collapsing onto it with the weight of exhaustion crashing down on him. His body ached with tension, his mind a battlefield of unspoken desires and bitter rage. He didn't want to think about the twins, didn't want to dwell on the way they had looked at him, or the way he had responded despite himself.

But their presence lingered in his mind, unshakable.

He buried his face in the pillow, willing himself to forget, to push everything aside and let the numbness take over. But even in the quiet of the room, with no one to taunt him, their voices echoed in his head. The teasing words. The soft laughter.

It gnawed at him, clawing at his thoughts, but there was nothing more he could do tonight. The anger that had fueled him had run its course, and all that remained was a bone-deep fatigue that he couldn't ignore.

Azrael curled up, closing his eyes tightly, trying to block out the world. Sleep tugged at him, merciful and heavy, and before he knew it, his body gave in. He surrendered to the darkness, hoping that, in sleep, he could find some reprieve from the chaos that had become his life.

But even in his dreams, the shadows of Lucien and Kieran lingered, watching him, waiting.