chapter 11
1701 Words
chapter 11- The choice.
Waves crashed, lightning carved jagged scars across the sky, and for one breathless heartbeat, time froze.
Adrian stood tall, blade gleaming in the stormlight. Damian faced him like a shadow carved out of night, coat billowing, eyes lit with something feral and amused.
Between them lay Ethan—pale, trembling, blood seeping into the sand. And Isabella, frozen between terror and fire, her heart ripping apart in her chest.
“Step away from her,” Adrian snarled.
Damian’s lips curved lazily. “Still pretending you’re her savior? You’re no different than me, brother.”
The word snapped through Isabella like thunder. Brother.
Her gaze darted between them. “What—what did you just—?”
Adrian didn’t flinch. “Don’t listen to him.”
Damian’s smile widened, cruel and knowing. “Oh, dove. He never told you?”
The storm howled louder, like the sky itself wanted to hear the truth.
---
“Lies,” Isabella whispered, shaking her head. “You’re lying.......”
“Am I?” Damian stepped forward, boots sinking into wet sand. “The same blood runs through our veins. The same violence. The same hunger. You think Adrian saves you because he loves you? No. He saves you because he wants you. Just like me.”
“Shut your mouth,” Adrian growled, blade raised.
Damian’s laugh cut through the storm. “You can’t shut out the truth.” His gaze slid to Isabella, piercing, merciless. “He’ll never tell you. But I will. We were born of the same monster. Sons of the same tyrant. He is my brother. And you—” Damian’s smile sharpened. “You’re the rope between us, being pulled until you break.”
Isabella staggered back, her pulse screaming in her ears. Her lungs refused air. Brother. Enemies. Both claiming her.
“No—no, this isn’t—” Her voice cracked. “It can’t be true.”
“It is,” Adrian snapped, eyes fierce. “But he is nothing to me.”
Damian’s grin turned wolfish. “Say that again after I kill you.”
---
The storm erupted with them.
Adrian lunged first, blade slashing. Damian met him with a flash of steel, their weapons colliding in a burst of sparks.
Isabella screamed, stumbling back as the brothers tore into each other, fury unleashed. Steel against steel, roar against roar, every strike filled with years of hatred.
“Always the shadow,” Damian taunted, blade pressing Adrian’s back. “Always second.”
“Better second than a monster,” Adrian snarled, shoving him off, blood spraying where steel grazed flesh.
They circled, storm their arena, sand their battlefield. Ethan groaned faintly, collapsing further against the rocks.
Isabella dropped to her knees beside him, tears blinding her. “Stay with me, Ethan—please—”
But his breath rattled, faint as a dying ember.
---
The clash raged on. Adrian’s blade cut Damian’s arm; Damian’s dagger sliced across Adrian’s ribs. Both bled, neither yielded.
“Isabella!” Adrian’s voice thundered through the storm. His gaze flicked to her, wild. “Take Ethan and run!”
“Don’t you dare,” Damian hissed, spinning with predator speed. His blade locked Adrian’s, forcing him down into the sand. His other hand stretched out toward her. “Come to me, dove. Or I’ll slit his throat where he kneels.”
Her heart nearly stopped.
Adrian strained against Damian’s weight, fury in his eyes. “Don’t listen to him! Move!”
Damian’s gaze burned her alive. “Choose. Him or me. Savior or master. Which leash feels lighter?”
Lightning split the sky again—illuminating everything. Adrian’s blood. Damian’s fury. Ethan’s fading life. Her own shaking hands.
For the first time, Isabella realized this wasn’t about survival anymore. It was about choice.
And her next breath would decide everything.
---
The storm would not relent.
Rain fell in sheets, soaking the courtyard until it glistened like obsidian under the flashes of lightning. Each thunderclap rattled the broken walls, and the taste of iron lingered thick on Isabella’s tongue. She couldn’t tell if it was the storm, or blood, or the way her own heart kept breaking inside her chest.
Her fingers curled tighter around the dagger. She’d picked it up without thinking, like instinct had driven her hand before her mind could catch up. Now the steel trembled in her grasp—not because she was weak, but because she was standing between two men who had never learned how to stop fighting.
Adrian. Damian.
Brothers bound by blood, but nothing else.
And at her knees, Ethan bled into the stones, his breaths shallow, his skin waxen beneath the rain. She pressed her hand harder against his wound, trying to hold him here, trying to anchor him to life with sheer will.
“Move, Isabella.” Adrian’s voice cut through the storm, frayed with exhaustion and rage. His sword gleamed at his side, his whole body coiled like a predator about to strike. His eyes weren’t on her—they were locked on Damian.
“If I move, Ethan dies,” she said. Her voice cracked, but her spine didn’t bend. “If I move, this will never stop. So no, Adrian. I’m not moving.”
Damian’s laugh was soft, cruel, curling like smoke through the rain. He tilted his head, dark hair plastered to his jawline, his smile both mocking and hungry.
“Look at her, brother. Finally standing her ground. Brave little dove.” His gaze flicked to Adrian, taunting. “You don’t see her. You only see another war to win.”
“Don’t,” Adrian snapped, sword flashing upward, his chest rising and falling too fast. “Don’t you dare say her name.”
Damian said it anyway. Slowly. Like a spell.
“Isabella. Isabella. Isabella.”
Her name on his tongue felt like fire. Adrian’s jaw flexed, his rage barely contained. And Isabella… she couldn’t breathe.
Her hands shook against Ethan’s side. Not from weakness, but from the unbearable truth of it all.
She was done being pulled. Done being a rope in their war.
Her head lifted. Her throat burned, but her voice was steady.
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here. I’m not a prize. I’m not your pawn. I’m done letting you choose for me.”
For the first time, both brothers looked at her. Really looked.
Adrian’s face was a storm of conflict—fury, desperation, something softer he would never name. Damian’s expression shifted, just slightly, as though he hadn’t expected her defiance.
“Isabella,” Adrian said, almost pleading now. “Step back. Please.”
Her answer was simple.
“No.”
Not a scream. Not a whisper. But steel.
Something shifted in the air. For a heartbeat, even the storm seemed to pause.
Then Ethan groaned.
Isabella’s world snapped back into focus. She dropped to her knees, pressing her palms harder against the wound. Blood slicked her fingers, hot against her frozen skin. “Stay with me, Ethan. Please.”
His lips parted, the faintest tremor of breath escaping. “I… tried… to protect…”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered fiercely, tears streaking down her rain-soaked face. “Don’t you dare say goodbye.”
Adrian moved instinctively, his sword lowering as he started toward them. But Damian blocked him, stepping in close, eyes glittering with triumph.
“Don’t touch him,” Damian hissed.
Adrian’s blade angled back up, his fury boiling over. “Move. Or I’ll cut you down where you stand.”
Damian crouched instead, close enough Isabella felt his presence press against her skin like a shadow. “Do you even know why he’s fading so fast?”
Her stomach turned cold. “What are you talking about?”
“That wound,” Damian said smoothly, his voice threading through the storm. “It isn’t just steel. It’s poison.”
The blood in her veins iced over. She looked down at Ethan—his trembling, his paling lips, the shallow hitch of his chest. Poison.
“Liar,” Adrian spat, but the flicker in his eyes betrayed uncertainty.
Damian’s smile sharpened. “Believe what you want. But if you want him to live, you’ll listen. You’ll stop pretending you can end this without me.”
Isabella’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might break her ribs. Her friend—her anchor—was dying in her arms. Adrian’s fury scorched through the storm. Damian’s cruelty wrapped around them both, leaving no escape.
“You did this,” Adrian snarled, his sword trembling with the force of his rage.
“Maybe,” Damian purred. “Maybe not. But I know the cure.”
His gaze slid to Isabella, pinning her in place. “And I’ll give it… if she asks me to.”
Her throat burned. She shook her head, tears and rain indistinguishable on her cheeks. “Why me?”
“Because,” Damian said, voice low, intimate, “you’re the only one who can cut him down from his pedestal. You’re the only one he’ll listen to. And you’re the only one who can admit the truth.” His eyes flared with something darker. “You want me to save your friend? Say it. Choose me.”
“No!” Adrian roared, his voice shattering against the storm. His eyes found hers, frantic. “Don’t. Don’t give him that power. Isabella, please—don’t let him own you like this.”
Her hands pressed harder on Ethan’s wound, but his body kept jerking, his breath shallow, fading. She could feel him slipping away beneath her fingertips.
Her heart fractured.
She couldn’t lose Ethan. She couldn’t.
Her eyes lifted, locking with Damian’s. Fury, defiance, despair—all tangled in her voice.
“Tell me what I have to do.”
The storm seemed to suck the air from the world.
Damian’s smile curled, slow and victorious. “Finally,” he whispered. “Finally, she chooses.”
Adrian’s roar split the night. “ISABELLA—NO!”
Lightning cracked, splitting the courtyard in white fire.
And in her arms, Ethan’s body went terrifyingly still.
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- Writer
