Dimitri's breath caught in his throat as he paced the room, the voice on the other end of the phone still talking," They're coming." The the call had ended abruptly.
He could barely process it when the door creaked open. His heart stopped when he saw Lucas—limping, stumbling, a bloodstain soaking through his shirt. Dimitri's stomach turned, his pulse quickening as he rushed toward him.
"Lucas!" Dimitri's voice was a mix of panic and fury as he reached his side, his hands instinctively moving to steady him. Lucas's face was pale, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion, but there was no mistaking the blood—soaked into the fabric of his shirt, dripping from his back. Dimitri's gaze locked onto the crimson streaks, and a surge of rage blazed in his chest.
"What the hell happened?" Dimitri's voice cracked as he spoke, his fingers trembling as they pressed gently against Lucas's shoulder to steady him.
Lucas winced, but said nothing, barely able to keep his footing. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.
"Mr. Morton," Dimitri spat, his voice thick with disgust as the fury inside him surged. He could barely contain it. He knew who had done this. He knew exactly what kind of man Lucas's adopted father was.
Lucas lifted his head to meet Dimitri's gaze, his expression hardening slightly. "I'm fine. It's just... it's nothing."
Dimitri's jaw clenched as he tried to suppress the rage building inside him, but the blood—Lucas's blood—was too much. The anger, the helplessness, it was all consuming.
"Don't lie to me," Dimitri snapped, his hands gripping Lucas's shoulders now. "This is not nothing." His eyes burned with the intensity of his anger. "Mr. Morton did this to you, didn't he?"
Lucas didn't answer, but the look in his eyes said everything. Dimitri could feel his chest tightening with fury—he didn't care if this was Lucas's own battle to fight. No one hurt him like this. Not on Dimitri's watch.
Before Lucas could react, Dimitri was moving. His hand reached for the door, and his voice was like ice as he spoke, his words laced with pure venom.
"Stay here. I'm going to make sure that bastard never does this again."
Dimitri's hand was already on the door when Lucas's grip suddenly locked onto his wrist, pulling him back with surprising strength. Dimitri froze, his body tensing as Lucas's cold fingers pressed into his skin, the touch almost bruising in its force.
"Listen to me." Lucas's voice was icy, devoid of any warmth, "Leave it alone. I'll handle it. Eventually."
Dimitri turned slowly, meeting Lucas's gaze, his own anger flickering in his chest. For a brief moment, he wanted to fight. But Lucas's eyes, that steely resolve, told him that pushing forward wasn't an option.
"Don't." Lucas's voice dropped even lower, his tone almost warning. "Don't get in my way."
Dimitri swallowed hard, his anger warring with the helplessness he felt in that moment. His hand stayed on the door handle, but it was no longer with the intent to leave. His body tensed, frustration bubbling beneath his skin, but he didn't pull away from Lucas's grip.
"You'll get yourself killed," Dimitri muttered, voice barely above a whisper. But it didn't seem to matter to Lucas.
"I said," Lucas repeated coldly, "I'll handle it. Eventually."
Dimitri hesitated for a long moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The blood on Lucas's back, the pain in his eyes—he wanted to tear the world apart for this, to make it stop. But Lucas... he wasn't like everyone else. Dimitri knew that better than anyone. Lucas wasn't asking for help.
Finally, Dimitri let out a slow, frustrated breath. He knew when to stop.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice rough.
He pulled away from Lucas's grip, his body tense, but he stayed put.
"I'll be here," Dimitri finally said, his voice softer. "When you're ready."
Lucas didn't respond immediately. He simply turned, his bloody back to Dimitri now, and gave a slight nod before heading for the bed.
Dimitri didn't hesitate. Despite Lucas's earlier demand for space, the instinct to protect kicked in. His hands moved quickly to support Lucas, guiding him carefully to a bed in the guestroom. Lucas let out a sharp breath as he lowered himself, wincing at the pressure on his wounded back. The welts crisscrossed his skin, fresh blood staining his torn shirt. Dimitri's gaze flickered over the injuries, his jaw tightening with barely contained anger.
"I hate seeing you hurt," Dimitri muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He crouched beside the chair, his fingers lightly brushing over the raised welts, almost as if he could erase the pain just by touching them.
Lucas's lips curled into a smile, but it was faint, almost sad. He let Dimitri's hands linger, savoring the fleeting warmth, before he met his gaze with dark intent.
"I'm ready," Lucas said quietly, his voice low but firm.
Dimitri didn't need any more explanation. He knew exactly what Lucas meant. The blood, the pain—it didn't matter. Lucas was ready to hunt. He'd shut everything else out, burying the pain deep inside. Dimitri nodded, his throat tight as he stood up and leaned down to kiss Lucas's forehead, a gesture of affection that seemed to make Lucas relax, just a little.
"Lie on your stomach," Dimitri said, his voice soft but steady, "Let me help you."
Lucas gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. His body was aching, but he didn't care. He had a hunger now, a need to move past the hurt, to feel something else. Dimitri helped him settle, careful with each motion as he assisted Lucas in positioning himself.
"You're not alone in this," Dimitri whispered, voice low but certain.
Lucas's lips curled again, this time a touch more genuine, as he glanced back over his shoulder at Dimitri.
"I know."
Dimitri's hands were steady as he carefully cleaned the blood from Lucas's back, his fingers gentle but firm as he applied the antiseptic to the raw welts.
"I need to tell you something," Dimitri said suddenly.
Lucas didn't respond at first. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed in the quiet moments of care, but his brow furrowed just slightly at the sudden shift in Dimitri's tone. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up at Dimitri with an unreadable expression.
Dimitri continued to work, applying more pressure than necessary as he wrapped the last layer of bandage around Lucas's torso. He couldn't look Lucas in the eye as he spoke again.
"My family," Dimitri began, his voice colder than he intended, "they want me to move back to my home country. They're... they're expecting me."
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Lucas didn't move, his expression unreadable as his gaze locked onto Dimitri's.
Dimitri's hands trembled slightly as he finished wrapping the bandages, but he kept his composure, forcing himself not to show weakness.
Lucas's calm was shattered in an instant. The moment Dimitri's words settled into the air, Lucas's hand shot out like lightning, gripping Dimitri's hand with a strength that made Dimitri flinch in pain. His body tensed, muscles tightening as the fury in Lucas's eyes erupted in a violent blaze.
"Don't," Lucas spat, his voice laced with venom, his breath coming out in sharp, quick bursts. "Don't even think about leaving me." His fingers dug into Dimitri's skin, a warning in the grip.
Dimitri winced, the pressure enough to leave his hand aching, but he held his ground. He understood the rage, understood how much it hurt. And still, he didn't pull away, knowing Lucas's anger was something that could only be soothed, not ignored.
"I said no," Dimitri breathed through the tension, trying to calm the storm that raged inside Lucas. His voice wavered slightly, but he forced it to remain steady, to make Lucas understand. "But my family... they're different, Lucas. They're dangerous people,and they're not just going to let me make this decision on my own." He paused, his voice sinking lower, raw with the truth he didn't want to admit. "I don't have the power to fight against them."
"No!" Lucas shouted, his voice breaking the stillness like thunder. "You promised me! You told me you'd never leave me!" His chest rose and fell with quick, violent breaths as he glared at Dimitri.
Dimitri opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, suffocated by the anger in Lucas's voice, the pain in his eyes. He understood the weight of what he was saying, understood how deeply it cut.
"I'm not going anywhere without you," Dimitri said softly, his voice trembling, unsure whether he could live up to that promise.
"You're mine," Lucas whispered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the deadly intent in his words. "And I won't let anyone take you from me."
Dimitri swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He wasn't sure how he would fight this—how he could protect Lucas from whatever storm was coming—but he was more certain than ever that he would. For Lucas, he would fight anyone. Even his own blood.
Lucas, however, was already a step ahead, his mind spinning with the reality of the situation. He believed that Dimitri was too soft, too hopeful. If Dimitri's family was like he had said ,then they weren't just going to listen to words. They weren't going to be convinced with a few heartfelt pleas or some emotional outburst. Dimitri was naive if he thought it would be that easy.
And Lucas knew the answer. He'd known it all along, but now it was becoming clear: if Dimitri wouldn't fight for them, he would. If talking couldn't solve this, if Dimitri was too weak to hold his ground, then Lucas would just have to handle it himself.
He stared at Dimitri with a blank expression, no warmth in his gaze, no sympathy. There was a chilling emptiness behind those eyes, a cold certainty in his thoughts that made everything feel... distant.
"I told you," Lucas said, his voice steady but void of emotion. "You're not going anywhere without me."
Dimitri, unaware of the dark shift in Lucas's tone, smiled slightly, thinking Lucas was beginning to take his side . "I can make them see reason. I know I can."
Lucas flinched slightly as he pushed himself up from the bed, wincing at the sharp sting in his back. Dimitri was instantly by his side, his hands hovering hesitantly as if afraid to cause more pain.
"I'm fine," Lucas muttered, brushing him off, but Dimitri ignored him, slipping an arm around his waist to help him up fully.
Lucas was still for a moment, his expression blank as his gaze drifted to Dimitri's face. The sight made him pause—Dimitri looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide and filled with unspoken desperation. Lucas sighed, his icy demeanor melting just slightly under the weight of that look.
Reaching out, Lucas gently touched Dimitri's face, his fingers brushing over his cheek. Dimitri leaned into the touch immediately, his eyes closing as if it was the only comfort he could find.
"I don't want to leave you," Dimitri murmured, his voice breaking. His eyes opened slowly, and Lucas could see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill over. He looked like he was on the brink of falling apart, barely holding himself together.
Lucas tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You're such a baby," he teased softly, his tone almost mocking but laced with a faint trace of affection.
Dimitri blinked at him, his lips trembling as he tried to compose himself, but Lucas's words only made him more vulnerable. He gave a shaky laugh, leaning his forehead against Lucas's hand as if anchoring himself there.
"I mean it," Dimitri whispered, his voice quieter now. "I can't lose you, Lucas."
Lucas's smile grew a little wider, "I know you can't," he said simply, his voice calm and soothing as he pulled his hand away. "You won't. I'll make sure of it."
Dimitri nodded, his breathing evening out as he clung to those words like a lifeline.
Lucas ran a hand through his dark hair, glancing toward the door before turning his gaze back to Dimitri. "Go get your stuff from my room next door," he said flatly, his tone more a command than a suggestion.
Dimitri's face lit up at the request, a smile breaking through his previously somber expression. He nodded quickly, his excitement almost childlike. "Okay, I'll be right back!" he said, his voice unusually cheerful as he hurried to the door.
Lucas's eyes followed him, lingering on Dimitri's back as he left the room. The door closed softly behind him, and Lucas's expression hardened. If Mr. Morton so much as laid a finger on Dimitri, it would be more than enough justification to deal with the man permanently. A slow, dark smirk played on his lips at the thought. It wasn't like he needed much of a reason, but having one made it so much more satisfying.
Lucas sighed and leaned back slightly, his mind already shifting to the tangled mess he was in.
He absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his thigh, his sharp blue eyes as his thoughts drifted to Ryan. It didn't even matter anymore why he wanted to kill him; the reason had long since dissolved into the background. All he could think about now was the sensation of warm blood slicking his hands, the life draining from Ryan's body as Lucas smiled down at him.He wanted to officially kill someone—he wanted to take his time.
In the quiet of his mind, something shifted. A voice, faint but distinct, slipped back in, one he hadn't heard for a while but always knew was lingering.
"Monster," it whispered, soft yet sharp enough to cut through his thoughts.
Lucas's grin faltered, his jaw tightening, but only briefly. The voice didn't stop.
"Is Dimitri really up for it? Does he even know what you're dragging him into?"
Lucas's blue eyes flicked toward the door where Dimitri had disappeared, the faint sound of his footsteps barely audible. A shadow of irritation passed over his face. "Dimitri will do anything for me," Lucas muttered under his breath, his voice low and sharp, as if speaking directly to the voice.
The words came out colder than he intended, and yet they brought him a strange sense of satisfaction. Of course, Dimitri would. The boy was like a puppy, hopelessly loyal and desperate for any scrap of affection Lucas threw his way. It didn't matter what Lucas asked of him—Dimitri wouldn't hesitate. He didn't have it in him to question Lucas.
Still, the voice lingered, the single word "monster" echoing faintly in the back of his mind. Lucas clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he steadied his breathing.