31. Bram

31

brAM

T his fucking dorm room felt like a prison. The sandstone walls closed in as I stewed in the mess that was my life. Even Gumdrop looked me over with a judgmental glare from his tank before swimming over and sitting on top of that gumdrop castle, his back turned to me.

Fuck him.

My black hair hung in my face, shadowing my gaze that must’ve been filled with rage and self-loathing. The smell of spicy bourbon clung to me, a constant reminder of the crutch I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. My leg bounced incessantly as I glared at the tablet on my desk, where my father’s voice came through.

“Fucking Ironwood,” I snarled, slamming my fist onto my thigh, ignoring the pain that burst through it. That sleazy professor flunked me on my last exam for Ceremonial Magic Theory.

I was failing the whole damn class. Impressive for a reform subject.

“Don’t blame anyone but yourself.” Father’s voice echoed in the room, dripping with contempt. “How pathetic can you be, Bram? Even your professor thinks you’re worthless. How many times do I have to tell you to be like Slater!” His words were a knife, twisting deeper with every one.

In the background, my mother’s screeches filled the line. “Don’t fucking tell my son to be like that stuck-up bitch’s boy!”

“Shut the fuck up, you whore!” A resounding smack pierced the air before she whimpered in pain.

“Yeah, I’m a whore, so what?” She cackled. “I’d much rather fuck that professor than you!”

“Then why’d you break it off with him?” Father snarled at her, another smack hitting my ears.

I winced, listening to their argument about Mother fucking Ironwood.

Apparently, she’d found out he fucked Dreadful while he was still seeing her, so she broke it off. She fought Father on the fact that while I was worthless, failing that class was Ironwood’s fault because he was mad at her.

Lovely, really. Hearing my parents argue over how fucking useless I was. Whenever they spoke of me, their voices were drenched in contempt and disappointment.

“Slater this, Slater that,” I muttered, my jaw clenching.

He never missed a chance to compare me to him, the noble golden child. Father didn’t even fucking have access to him, and he liked him more than me.

My mother’s voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. “He’s a disgrace because he came from you!”

More hits broke through the tablet as they fought each other, and I hung up, ending the call.

It didn’t help much, though.

Their insults rang in my ears like a relentless assault on my fucking psyche.

I just wanted to numb it all.

Eying the whiskey on the table, my resolve cracked. It was a hefty bottle I’d bought the other morning with my meager stipend from the school. The only reason I’d used the money was because I didn’t want Dex to know. He’d been the one who had been sneaking me fae whiskey, but…I didn’t want him to know that I was struggling. I was supposed to be better for her, but I failed at that too.

I hadn’t planned to drink, but the whiskey called to me like a siren's song.

“Worthless,” I whispered, getting up and heading for the bottle. Even my fated mate, Pandora, couldn’t forgive me. And I couldn't blame her.

I snatched the whiskey up and stormed out of the dorm room, away from Gumdrop’s judgment.

The sandstone halls echoed my heavy footsteps. Everything was quiet as I opened the doors to the cool night air. Cold slid over my sweaty skin as I made my way to the Occult Arch. The rock formation loomed in front of me, and the stars above seemed indifferent to my plight, twinkling in total fucking oblivion.

As I walked, I checked my tablet. A message from Slater blinked on the screen.

Slater Havoc

Bram, I wish you’d let me in.

I really want to have a relationship with you.

You’re my brother.

I debated texting back for a split second to ask for his advise, but the chaos in my mind and underneath my skin drowned out any rational thought.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, popping the top off and taking a long swig from the bottle. The whiskey burned as it went down, a familiar and bitter comfort.

I made it to Occult Arch and leaned against the rock formation, my mind swirling with my parents' insults and my own self-hatred.

I just fucking spiraled.

The bottle was already half-empty when I saw her—my fated mate—rushing past the arch. At first, I thought I was seeing shit, but it was definitely her. Her red eyes were puffy, her cheeks blotchy, and her black hair tangled.

She was crying, and my heart twisted at the sight.

“Gravesend!” I called out, but my voice was slurred.

My chaos wolf, the familiar black spectral creature with red eyes, leaped from my body and stopped her. He jumped up to place his paws on her shoulders and licked her face.

She stopped, confusion lines on her face as she smiled faintly, petting Chaos. Her gaze slid to me as she noticed my state. Sniffling, she pet Chaos again before coming over to sit next to me.

She actually sat next to me—willingly.

She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her pain…even without the matebond formed. My soul ached for hers.

Broken recognized broken.

“Want some?” I offered her the bottle, and she took it, tilting it back and wincing at the taste. “It’s regular whiskey, not fae whiskey. It fucking sucks.”

“First time trying any alcohol,” she admitted, her voice raspy. “I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“That’s a shitty introduction.” I laughed, though it was a hollow sound. “I’m trying to stop drinking for you, yet here we are.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “I’m enabling you!” Guilt etched on her pretty tear-stained face as she passed me the bottle. “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” I replied, my voice cracking. “I’ve been a pathetic mate.”

Regardless of what we said, we passed the bottle between us, taking turns drinking.

“I found another dark magic circle. This time it was in Bound Dormitory, and I devoured the dark magic again. I puked it up, but Fates, Hemlock…I don’t know why I have this power,” she confessed, taking another swig before passing it to me. “Hunter and Reed called and messaged me about it because they felt my emotions in our bond, but I asked them to give me a moment before I came back to my room. They’re waiting on me there.”

I gulped down more alcohol, chaos magic swirling through me. “I’m jealous, you know, even though I understand why you haven’t forgiven me. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but fuck, I wish I’d done things differently.”

“Yeah, I do, too, Hemlock,” she whispered.

Chaos erupted around us, sweeping up sand and swirling it into the air, but it didn’t touch us. I made damn sure it didn’t touch her.

“Call me Bram,” I begged, my voice breaking. “ Please . I hate my mate calling me by my last name.”

She nibbled on her lip before nodding. “Okay, Bram. You can call me Pandora, then.”

“Pandora,” I repeated, savoring her name on my tongue.

She nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Yes.”

She gave me permission to use her first name. My heart was about to burst from sheer excitement.

“Pandora…” I leaned closer to her, drawn by the comfort of her presence.

“Bram…” Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled my scent.

I did the same, her caramel smell going straight to my cock.

We were inches apart, our breaths mingling, and the tension was palpable. I wanted her desperately.

She tensed, her eyes snapping open. “No,” she croaked, pulling away. “I can’t…I can’t kiss you.”

I jerked my head in a nod, but my heart went through a fucking shredder. “I won’t touch you again until you beg me to,” I promised. “ Brat …” The term of endearment slipped out, softer and tender than ever before.

She actually smiled, and a giggle slipped out. “Thanks, Bram.”

“I didn’t mean to get drunk again.” I took another swig of whiskey. “My mother’s fucking Ironwood. Or was, until she found out he was screwing someone else while fucking her. You know, Dreadful.” I laughed bitterly. “My parents cheat all the time. They aren’t fated. I’ve never had a good role model in my life, but this time, it caused Ironwood to fail me. He even fucking called Father,” I slurred, my brain buzzing.

Pandora’s lips parted in surprise. “I’m going to tell Hunter to take care of it.”

I bristled, and jealousy flared through me. “I can handle it myself!”

She placed a hand on my arm, and pure calm radiated from the touch of her. “You’re my mate, Bram. I want to help.”

“Even if you’re not accepting the bond?” My chest tightened.

She went quiet, her eyes searching mine. “I’m not refusing it either. I just need time. You hurt me, Bram. Badly .”

I looked away, shame slamming into me. “I know. I’m so sorry for everything I did and said. Calling you a slut, sending Skel and Dex to scare you, accusing you of being a spoiled noble…I was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

“You were.” Her eyes filled with tears again, and she scooted closer. “I was a virgin before Hunter. I was nothing before Daryl made me his daughter. But you didn’t take the time to learn any of it,” she said softly. “You broke me…but I can see that you’re trying. It’s why I haven’t rejected the bond.”

My soul fucking ached . “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want to be better. I was raised to hate nobility, to resent them for casting out my dad. I took all that out on you, and there’s no excuse for that. My grandfather would hate me for what I did to you. He had a fated mate, and he wanted that for me, too. I trampled all over the chance. I’m so sorry.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “I need you to put in the effort, Bram. To show me you can change. That means no more drunken Occult Arch nights.”

I nodded, determination steeling my resolve. “I’ll change. For you, I will. I already have.”

“I know,” she whispered.

We sat there in silence, the chaos magic whipping around us was a stark contrast to the fragile peace we were trying to build.

She wasn’t ready to forgive me, and I understood that. But for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe one day she would.