Sadistic Mates

Chapter 9

Orion

The moment I tackle him, I know I’ve made a mistake. His grip on her is too tight, and the force of my hit flings her like a rag doll. Her head smacks the edge of the fireplace with a sickening crack. She sits up, swaying, her hand going to her head. When she pulls it back, it’s soaked in blood.

“Evelyn!” I gasp.

Thaddeus’s eyes snap to her. Panic floods the bond. The moment his gaze lands on the blood, I feel it—the hunger. The burn he left on her arm already triggered the craving. Now she's bleeding, and his bloodlust spikes. It claws at him. At me.

She slumps forward, her body limp.

He moves too fast for me to stop him. He drops to the ground, cradling her in his lap. His teeth tear into his wrist. Blood runs freely, and Ryland’s instantly at his side, forcing her mouth open. She looks dead—pale, blue-lipped, her heart slowing.

My gut twists.

He’s going to kill her.

No—he has killed her.

Thaddeus rocks her like a broken thing, his panic bleeding through the bond. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

Ryland grabs her jaw, forcing her mouth open as Thaddeus presses his wrist to her lips again, and then again. Everlyn’s head flops back. Her breathing is shallow—too shallow. Her pulse barely registers.

“She’s gone,” I say, my voice cracking.

“She isn’t!” Ryland growls, snapping his head toward me. “I can still feel her. We just need more time.”

I feel the darkness rising in Thaddeus like a wave, creeping out and wrapping around all of us. If she dies, he’ll unleash it and he won’t stop at us.

Ryland’s panic reaches me. I force myself to move. I bite into my wrist and kneel, holding it over her mouth while Ryland continues compressions.

Minutes drag. Her heartbeat fades.

And then she jerks.

She coughs. Chokes on our blood. Ryland pulls back, slumping in relief as Evelyn spits out the blood and rolls to her side, retching. Her body heaves violently. The gash on her head seals, blood still in her hair.

“I’m so sick of spewing,” she groans, her voice raw.

Thaddeus yanks her to him, clutching her like a lifeline. His grip is too tight, but I feel the darkness retreating. The guilt is still there, thick and choking, while the edge of madness is gone.

“Get off me, asshole,” she snaps, hitting his chest.

I snort. There she is. Our feisty, stubborn little human. Nearly died, and she’s more pissed off about being in his arms than anything else.

Thaddeus lets her go. She scrambles across the floor to me. I hold out my arms, and she throws herself into them, clinging to me. Her breathing is shallow, unsteady, but she’s alive.

Ryland presses a kiss to the top of her head, then leaves. Thaddeus sits frozen, watching her. Wanting her. Needing her.

I know what he feels through the bond—jealousy. She never runs to him. Always to me.

Why wouldn’t she?

Every time he touches her, he scares her. Hurts her. She gravitates to what’s safe. And right now, that’s me.

“She’s okay,” I tell him. “Go get some sleep. Calm down.”

He growls low in warning.

Ryland reappears, hand on Thaddeus’s shoulder, grounding him. Thaddeus rises reluctantly and stalks off.

Evelyn pulls back and looks at me. “What happened?”

“You hit your head. Hard. Ryland saved you.”

She looks around, disoriented. “And Thaddeus?”

I hesitate. “He didn’t mean it, Evelyn. Thaddeus doesn’t know how to be... careful. He just wanted to mark you. I’m the one who hit him—I knocked you loose from his grip. He didn’t intend to hurt you.”

“Then why can’t I remember?” she asks, her eyes darting between mine.

“Honestly? That might be a blessing.”

I carry her to the couch and lay her down. She winces when I peel off her ruined shirt, so I’m gentle. I clean the blood off her face, trying not to think about how close she came to dying.

She’s asleep before I’m done.

I cover her with a blanket, and when her breathing evens out, I carry her upstairs. I lay her on the bed between Thaddeus and Ryland. Thaddeus stirs, reaches for her in his sleep. Ryland pulls her blanket higher.

Downstairs, I clean. The blood’s sticky on the floor. I scrub until my hands ache, until the smell fades.

And I pray she never remembers what happened tonight.

Because if she does, I’m not sure she’ll forgive him. And if she doesn’t, maybe we still have time—time to make Thaddeus understand she’s not like us.

She’s breakable. Mortal.

And if he doesn’t learn to control himself, she won’t survive us.

I know Ryland’s already choosing her. I feel the change in him, feel the restraint. It’s stronger than I expected.

Thaddeus… he’s always been ruled by instinct and power. By hunger. Rage.

I hope he finds something else in her. Something worth softening for.

Because if I ever have to choose between Thaddeus and Evelyn?

I’ll choose her.

And I know Ryland will too.