46. Forty-Five

I sat in stunned silence as Keres finished his story. The factory lights buzzed loudly overhead, filling the silence. I searched his face, trying to reconcile the pieces of the man I’d come to love. My dom, my protector, my friend.

My monster.

His story made a disgusting amount of sense, given my own experience in the cult. How many bodies had I helped bury? And none of them whole. All of them were missing parts, chunks here or a limb there. Father Ezekiel had always explained it away. The people that died on our land were non-believers, outsiders who came to silence us. Sacrifices that had to be made. He told us we were soldiers in a spiritual war and that they were the enemy.

Why had I ever believed such wild stories?

But no matter what the truth was, it didn’t change the fact that Keres ate people. By choice. How could I accept that?

I clenched my jaw. “Have you ever fed me any of your kills?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Never. I would never do that to you, Eli. What I do... it's my burden to bear alone. I couldn't drag you into that darkness.”

He reached out a tentative hand, but I flinched away instinctively. Hurt flashed across his face before he quickly masked it.

“I'm a monster, I know that,” he said quietly. “But everything I've done has been to protect you and my family. To keep you safe from people like Ezekiel.” Keres's eyes burned with intensity as they held mine, for it was almost certainly him kneeling across from me now. “I may be a monster without a shred of humanity left in my soul, little rabbit, but you have stolen my black heart. I can’t let you die, and I can’t let you go. You’re mine, Elias Baker, and I would rather die than let you leave me.”

My heart clenched at his raw honesty. I believed him, but could I accept the horrific things he'd done?

I thought of my own demons, the dark things I’d done, the crimes I’d done in the name of the same cult, and the ones I’d committed to survive. How could I condemn Keres for his sins when my own soul was just as tainted?

I took a shuddering breath, my mind and heart at war. Everything inside me screamed to run, to get as far away from him as I could. But a deeper part of me, the shattered pieces of my soul, whispered that he was my mirror. Perhaps we were two jagged halves that could fuse together into something resembling a whole.

“I'm not asking you to condone what I’ve done, little rabbit,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “I'm asking you to love me, broken shards and all. Let me love you in return. Let me keep you safe. If I have to be a monster, let me be your monster.”

“You're not the only monster here,” I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper. “I've done things, Keres. Terrible things. Maybe that's why fate brought us together. Maybe we're the only ones who can understand each other's darkness.”

He reached for me again and this time I didn't pull away. His hand was warm and calloused as it cupped my cheek with a gentleness that felt so at odds with the brutality he was capable of. I leaned into his touch instinctively, starved for affection, for connection.

My eyes fluttered closed for a moment as I breathed in his scent. When I opened them again, he was watching me with a mix of longing and fear, as if he expected me to bolt at any second.

“If we're going to do this,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, “if I'm going to accept you, all of you, then you have to let me in, Keres. No more secrets, no more lies. You have to share your darkness with me.”

His brow furrowed, and he started to pull his hand away, but I caught it, lacing our fingers together.

“I mean it,” I said. “If you want me by your side, then I need to be your partner in every sense of the word. Including this.”

“Eli, you don't know what you're asking,” he said, his voice strained. “The things I've done, the rituals, the hunts... it's not a world I ever wanted to bring you into. I wanted you to stay pure and good. To be better .”

“But it's a part of you,” I insisted, squeezing his hand. “And I want all of you, Keres. The good, the bad, and the monstrous. If we truly belong to each other, body and soul, then you have to let me help carry the weight of your sins. I can’t do that if I’m not your equal in every way. My submission means nothing if we don’t start standing on the same ground.”

Keres's eyes searched mine, and I saw fear there. But beneath that fear was a glimmer of hope, of longing. He wanted to believe that I could accept him, all of him, even as he feared it was impossible.

“You're asking me to corrupt you,” he said at last, his voice hoarse. “To drag you down into my personal hell.”

“No, I'm asking you to let me walk through hell by your side.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. I could practically hear the war raging inside him, the part that wanted to protect me battling against the part that craved my acceptance like a drug. When he opened his eyes again, they were blazing with a terrifying mix of hunger and determination. He brought our joined hands to his lips, pressing a fierce kiss to my knuckles.

“Then walk through hell at my side, little rabbit,” he growled against my skin. “And may God have mercy on us both.”

I surged forward, capturing Keres's lips in a searing kiss. He met me with equal ferocity, his free hand fisting in my hair as he claimed my mouth. It was less of a kiss and more of a collision, a pact sealed in the slide of tongues and the sting of teeth.

We pulled apart when someone cleared their throat in the doorway. I looked up and sheepishly met the glare of Shepherd’s blond older brother.

“I take it you two have worked things out?” he said flatly.

Keres rose fluidly to his feet, tugging me up with him.

“We have,” Keres said, his voice steady even as his grip on my hand tightened.

A tense silence stretched between the two brothers, a silent battle of wills. After a long moment, the door opened wider and the other brother shoved his way in. “Are we killing him or what?”

“Not today, River,” Warrick said.

“Oh.” River looked me up and down before grabbing a mop from a nearby closet and pushing it into my hands. “Well, since you’re not dying, you can help with the clean up. That guy was a fucking bleeder. I’m going to call Mom and tell her we’ll be late to open presents. She’s gonna be pissed.”

Warrick sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and looked at me with the mop in my hand. “Welcome to the family, kid.”