Chapter Twenty-Six

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

His mind sparked.

"I said-"

Sébastien stood, whirled, grabbed the top edge of Kurtis's chest plate, and flames burst from his hand. Kurtis's sneer vanished. The smell of burning flesh was somehow familiar as he poured it out. The armor started to melt. He let go and watched as Kurtis stumbled back, entirely engulfed in flames. He waved his arms and screamed. That too was familiar. Fairies burn just as easily as humans.

The others yelled, and one lifted his flaming hand. Pathetic fairy magic. "You're-you're-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. A wave of fire unlike anything from a fairy burst from Sébastien's body. The cot went up, the water hissed as it vanished in steam, Kurtis fell to the floor, and the men's pleas echoed off the walls.

Armor melted. Flesh cooked. Hair went up in smoke, and padded jackets burned. A man tried to pull off his gauntlet as the metal fused to his flesh. Another clawed at the straps with blistered, blackening hands. As they rolled, shrieked, and died on the floor, Sébastien laughed.

This was what rage was for. To punish everyone who wronged him. He'd take the whole place to the ground, move on, and burn everything in his path. If his brothers still lived, he'd find them.

He stumbled back. He didn't have brothers. The two he'd once loved were dead. Except…he'd had six, and countless others who stayed above and fell later. This wasn't right.

I'm not going home. Your body will have to do, and you can kill anyone you want as a reward until I fully take over.

Uncle. The courtiers who sinned or watched it and said nothing. They were just as bad. The fire that burst from his body didn't hurt him as he stepped out of the cell and over a cooked body that was barely recognizable. The bars started to melt and drip to the floor. A deep, loud yet muted snap came from deep within the thick stone walls. A web of cracks appeared on them as fire filled the room. The wooden door caught and splintered like glass.

Deeper cracks ran up the wall to his left, stone split, and the room suddenly shuddered enough to make him stumble. What a weak body. Why did it feel right and wrong? Wasn't he himself? Or was he someone else? Sébastien gripped his drying hair that wasn't so stiff as he struggled, trying to slot things back into place. It wasn't right. He hadn't known it'd be like-

Go. Punish him how you see fit.

Uncle wasn't that far above. Why not obey?

The flaming door didn't burn him when he pushed it open. Each of the remaining Knights were coming down the steps, likely to have their turn with threats about what they'd later do to Remus while they held him down on the cot. Several spoke and paused at the sight of Sébastien, naked, dry, and with fury ready to spill from him.

Their screams were short. They always died so fast with their puny bodies. Sébastien stepped around the scorched flesh as the walls and floor shook. A crack formed in the stairs as Sébastien made his way up, and another sound, like the ground was ready to split, came from somewhere below.

Voices came from the halls, and footsteps pounded.

"Earthquake!"

"Get out! Hurry!"

"The Palace is going to collapse!"

"Out!"

They ran so fast too. Like cowards. How frightening it must be to have such a weak body in the face of one who has so much power. As Sébastien stepped into the entrance hall, several male courtiers flooded from the Judgment Hall and toward the front door. The carriages were already gone. A man with his wrists chained, likely some petty criminal who needed sentencing, hauled ass too. A couple of guards followed, but not to catch him. They paused, and one swore about the Prince escaping. Instead of attempting to recapture him, they stared, and one turned white.

The criminal disappeared through the doors, and a couple of men, lords who owned slaves and treated them worse than dogs, also paused as they noticed Sébastien.

"Elira save us. His eyes!" One tripped backward.

The men from the ship. He recognized them too.

Fire rolled out from Sébastien, and the beautiful flames, his power and rage rolled into one, caught silk. Flesh sizzled, and the screams grew. The marble flooring cracked under the heat, and the cushions in the window seat caught. Muscles and fat cooked. Blackened bones jutted, and roaring skulls stared back at him.

He'd sat in the window seat once, trying not to admire Remus, the man he'd hated. The man he loved.

A demon Prince had no use for such feelings. Careless of the roasting bodies and melting bones, he stepped toward the entrance of the Judgment Hall.

Uncle-no. It wasn't his Uncle. He only had a Father who'd cast him out with the others to follow after the Morning Star. Except, that was his Uncle ahead. Sébastien gripped the doorway as faint images flashed too fast for him to catch. Pressure weighed on his head, and the room blurred before coming back into focus.

Corentin sat on the throne as if the Palace wasn't quaking while corpses blazed in the entrance hall. As if he had nothing to fear when he was the worst sinner of all. The pressure eased.

Go punish him. You hardly need me for that. Do whatever you want.

The fire calmed, although the flames on the courtiers were still feeding on what little fat remained of the bodies. Sébastien glanced over his shoulder. It wasn't him who'd done that. Not really. It was Satan, and the end was near for Sébastien who had one last thing he'd be allowed to do.

He padded along the runner with bare feet and kept his gaze on Uncle who stared back.

"I had a feeling you'd make a mess instead of simply taking his body. Truly, I was thinking you'd never come. It's been over seven years. Thankfully, you didn't do that on the ship. Can you fight without killing our side?"

Sébastien stepped up onto the dais.

"Or is that fire a little too hard to control? I do need people to rule."

That look on his face…Sébastien had seen that more than once, usually because he'd done something disappointing. Contempt. This pathetic creature dared to hold contempt for him. Sébastien went right up to him and planted his hand on the armrests as he leaned down.

"Who says I'm fighting for you?"

His voice came out ragged and deeper than normal. The thing was in him and changing. Part of him was tempted to use his new magic and watch Uncle burn right there.

"I gave you a new body." Uncle didn't move, although something about the lines of his body shifted as though he didn't quite like being so close to this thing his nephew had turned into. "You wanted someone younger to cling to while you grew, and you have that because of me. I'm guessing Sébastien's body will continue to age despite your…presence. Will it?"

Sébastien faintly twitched a shoulder. It was mortal, pathetic, and not his original one, unfortunately. It likely would, not that it truly mattered. Once he found someone to fuck and use for more energy, he'd grow stronger and take whatever he wanted.

Uncle's lips flashed a stiff smile. "You can figure out a new one to take later when you want."

"I can possess who I want?"

"I suppose so. You took Sébastien. You're physical and stronger now."

He didn't like the tone, as though Uncle were granting him permission. Nothing was too low for him, and the sure confidence in his voice grated on Sébastien. He may not have been entirely comfortable, but he wasn't exactly frightened of the thing that had been unleashed not even an hour ago and was inches from his face and close enough to touch. And kill.

"You said seven years. We're heading toward eight, and you almost lost the chance because I wasn't keeping Sébastien around. The closer he was to twenty-five…You said you'd aid me, so keep up your end of the bargain now."

"What are we going to do?"

"Whatever we want. We can take everything. What Kingdom could defeat us when you can set whole armies on fire?"

"We?" growled Sébastien. "You mean you'd take everything while I play the role of a loyal guard and soldier who tags around and does whatever you want? Like a servant? Or a mercenary? I suppose you'll expect me to stick around and protect your children if you decide to have any. You'll want your new Empire to pass on."

"It'd be our Empire. No one has ever tried to take over the entire realm and unite it as one Kingdom. Or at least not since Elira, and even then, the fairies moved about and set up new areas with rulers."

Mortals love dividing themselves. It was hilarious.

"You'd have as much say in the ruling-"

Sébastien laughed as he gripped the armrests and ducked his head. "I didn't think before that you were quite this insane. A couple of other Kingdoms? Yes. Not all of them turned into one. You dream big. Then again, maybe it's not so insane. I'm sure others have thought of it. The only thing stopping them was the lack of manpower and the logistics of uniting it all through war. It'd be quite an endeavor and the bloodshed would be unlike anything ever seen here."

"Everything we have today is because someone dreamed big and thought beyond what they currently had. There's no harm in it."

Sébastien lifted his head. "Except for the pile of dead bodies you'll be standing on at the end."

"With everyone united, war wouldn't be an issue in the future, now would it? A pile now is a fair exchange for none later."

"Your sort likes to imagine certain things are worthy of exchange. Sacrifices that don't involve yourself are harmless and worth it. My innocence and safety were worth it since you got to drain your balls and feed your sickness."

For the first time, the confidence on Corentin's face stuttered.

"I'm still me as well. Did you think Satan got rid of me entirely yet? He knows exactly what you did, and he's a sick fuck as well since he fed on my rage from it. He'll still let me kill you before he leaves, and I remember everything you did. You're a fool if you think you made a deal with him that would be kept. You're nothing to him or me. You tried to give me to your guards like a whore-"

Corentin suddenly slammed his fist into Sébastien's sternum and knocked him back. Surprisingly, the force was enough to put space between them without hurting. Wetness on Sébastien's lip made him touch the back of his hand to his mouth and look. Blood. All of the talking had irritated the cut and made it bleed again, yet he felt no pain.

"You owe me!" yelled Corentin. "Get rid of him now and do as you said! If it wasn't for me, you'd be nothing! Your soul would still be trapped in Prince Angelo's cuffs or like a parasite on him. I'd hardly consider that an existence."

Sébastien tilted his head as he backed up a couple of steps on the dais. "You gave me a dead man's cuffs and didn't think twice. You stooped pretty low to accept items from a dead man's grave. Aren't fairies strict on that?"

"If I hadn't, you wouldn't be standing here."

"And that's worth me doing as you say? You stooped even lower to hand me over to a beast. I'm still here, Uncle. I'm not all Satan, and when I'm gone, you'll be dead."

Corentin slowly turned as Sébastien walked around. "We made a deal."

"So? Why would a Prince keep a deal with you? I'll always be higher than you even if you become King of the entire fairy realm. I will always be above you. I've seen creations and places you can't even dream of."

"You-"

"Let me guess." Sébastien smiled, and whatever Corentin saw on his face, it made his expression tighten. The little tinge of fear was delightful. If you had a son, he'd be your sex toy until he got too old, and you'd put a damaged man on the throne. Blood clearly means nothing to you. The whole family trickling away meant you could have it all. If you grew a shred of decency, you'd leave your son alone. But wait, you'll always be sick, so you'd find a pretty young boy to keep as a slave. Or a harem of them to use and discard when they're no longer so sweet and young. Someone could even bring them to you already trained, but I think you loved breaking me."

"I said to get rid of him now. You owe your new existence to me."

"I owe you nothing, and I-" Sébastien paused at the concept. Neither ‘we' nor ‘I' sounded quite right. "I was only defeated because a fool of an angel let a fairy have his sword to defend those unworthy children that Lucifer created with Lilith."

And the salt coating the new ridges the fairy had cut into it. Tiny ones, almost too little to see, but enough to hold salt and make a strike a thing of agony. If he could go back, he'd rip the Angel Prince to pieces before he could dare to think of it or lay a finger on the sword that shouldn't have been his.

"Father stupidly let a priceless handguard be attached to his son's sword."

Corentin narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

The words had come from Sébastien's mouth as if he'd always known them, and he had a sudden memory that was his and not his.

"Even she won't love me. God gave me an impossible task. Not that I care anymore about what He thinks. Are you here to kill us with your sword? Are you going to skewer me with your present?"

"No. I want you to come back. Even if they'd forever turn from Him, you're not hopeless. You clearly do care."

"Pfft. I'm the most hopeless, dear Azazel."

"You already went to Lilith and that means-"

"That means nothing. I knew she wouldn't love me before I went to her, and I don't care for His task. I might be the Prince of Pride, but that doesn't mean I don't feel lust."

"Lucifer-"

"Stop bothering me and go run back to Him or find some humans to play with. Like I'd ever want to return."

He'd always doubted those words. Lucifer was like them but also with a thread of guilt running through him that he couldn't understand. Then again, none of it mattered to Sébastien. Not really. Lilith's true existence. The beautiful white-haired man with gold wings. It wasn't important when the rage itched to kill. Fuck the handguard, the lost blade, angelic Princes, and wolves who fought to defend fairies.

He eyed the lynx tapestry and the moon behind the cat's face. The pressure lurked in the back of Sébastien's head, and he ignored whatever Corentin was babbling in his demanding voice. He would have gotten along with Mammon.

"Are you listening to me?" yelled Corentin.

Me, me, me.

The moon had turned red before for the brothers. It had become almost entirely black when Lucifer danced with the rejected woman because she had eclipsed the man in power. She'd taken control and birthed legions of winged creatures born from fire.

Satan laughed, having come from below after the delicious fruit that granted him new powers and a body with strength to crush the humans. While the moon bled overhead, he watched Mammon take to the air with his gold wings flashing and smelled the lust of Asmodeus who'd wanted new toys to fuck, torture, and kill. Leviathan's jealous eyes had watched Mammon fly even though he'd gained an ability that any of them would kill to have.

The rage burned a little more because Greed, Lust, and Envy had always been a little closer than the rest.

They didn't matter either.

"You owe me," Corentin hissed. As if insisting one more time would make Satan cower and agree to whatever he wanted. Sébastien side-eyed him. "Stop staring at the damn tap-"

"I serve myself. You fairies think too much of yourself. Besides a few powers and features, you're just as fallible as humans." Sébastien grabbed the end of the tapestry and tugged hard enough to make the muscles in his arms stand out. The mounted bar keeping the tapestry on the wall creaked.

"I could have tossed you away."

"As soon as you put on those cuffs, I hooked onto you. I can't be tossed away. I chose the better form. Otherwise, I'd be in your body, and you'd be doing what I want. Imagine a furious Regent in control of Soleil. But you didn't have enough anger seeded in you. Prince Angelo was a fool to lock me in something. I might not ever be the same, but this is enough, and I will continue to serve myself even if my old body is gone."

The tapestry refused to come down, so Sébastien swiped his hand through the air and sent out a whiplash of fire that sliced through the top. With a heavy whomp, the heavy fabric collapsed on the floor. The edges burned and died to embers at the top as Sébastien dragged it out. Corentin remained frozen as he stood in front of the fancy chair he'd wanted so damn badly. His expression made Sébastien laugh again, and it died as the Regent's eyes flicked down his body with a hint of disgust.

"What? Do you want to fuck for old time's sake? I could kill you right after you cum to make it interesting. Interesting for me, not you. You'd be dead. Although that's more Asmodeus's thing. Oh wait, I'm all grown up now. You like shapeless bodies with balls that haven't dropped yet. My apologies for growing up, dear Uncle. I didn't mean to. Just like I'm sure you didn't mean to make me cry. Will you cry before I kill you?"

Corentin suddenly lifted his hand. Fire blossomed and hurtled toward Sébastien. When it hit his arm, it didn't hurt, although the sensation was odd, like a push that wasn't entirely solid and sort of warm.

He looked at his arm where the flesh had been scorched, although it was nothing like what he'd done to those in his way earlier. "That's it?"

Real, true fear flashed in Corentin's eyes as he started to back up, and while the anger didn't abate, glee formed in Sébastien. Uncle was scared of him for a change, and he knew nothing he said or did was going to work. It was about time he didn't get his way. Sébastien could do anything and make him beg. He could ignore the no and the pleas. If Uncle said it hurt, Sébastien didn't have to stop. Just like Uncle had never cared.

"You owe me, just like I owed you." Sébastien bared his fangs. "It's time to pay the price. What are you going to do for me?"

Corentin turned and bolted. Sébastien left the collapsed lynx tapestry, jumped off the dais, and chased Uncle down the runner. Corentin heard him and turned to throw fire. Sébastien reflexively jerked aside and lunged.

Corentin's dagger flashed by his face a second later. The silly fool didn't even carry a sword, imagining himself safe in his Palace. Sébastien grabbed his wrist, hit him in the sternum and hooked a foot behind his knee. Remere had taught him the move since hand-to-hand fighting was important. He'd likely never imagined his little brother would truly need it.

Unlike Sébastien, Corentin felt pain from the hit to his chest, and he made a strange noise as they hit the floor. Sébastien's knee landed on his gut as he gripped the wrist hard enough. Just a little fire.

Corentin let out a high-pitched noise that wasn't quite a scream since he didn't have much air left. Fire flared around them. A figure suddenly raced into the hall and boots thumped on the carpet. Voices swore as more ran in and stopped. Sébastien threw fire at the few guards who'd come in, likely thinking to save the Regent from the Palace if it was about to collapse. The cowards had been rather slow.

All four fell to the floor as their clothes and hair caught. Armor melted, and the screams were more annoying than anything else. What he'd used on Corentin hadn't been enough, although his skin had turned red, and blisters had popped up on his face. His scorched hand shook as he finally dropped the dagger. Sébastien snatched it and stood.

"How many other boys have you hurt? Huh? What were you doing when you took little trips and couldn't have me yet? I bet you don't like when I speak of the horrible sins you committed because you know you're going to die for them. It doesn't matter how much you plead innocence."

Corentin gasped as he attempted to get his air back and cradled his burned wrist and hand to his chest. Somehow, he found the strength to shift as if he was going to roll away. Sébastien stomped his foot into his gut to hold him there.

"You're so fucking weak now. Do you have any idea what it feels like when a grown man's prick is shoved into you? It's like knives. It's even worse when it's from the Uncle you thought would never hurt you. I wish I could hurt your mind like you did mine because that was the worst thing of all. Perhaps this will give you a vague idea."

Sébastien put all of his weight into the foot on Corentin's stomach, ignored his weak plea, crouched, and shoved the dagger right into his crotch.

That elicited a scream, and the Regent kicked. Nothing had ever sounded quite so good. Under the burns, Corentin flushed dark red as his face contorted, and his blistered hands threw fire and swiped at Sébastien's leg. He left the dagger and backed away as he watched with a smile.

The fucker deserved to suffer for eternity. Corentin's gasps and words were ragged as he scrambled for the dagger. Sébastien was sure it had gone through his dick and somewhere deep inside. It could be healed if a physician got to it before too long passed.

Unlike the wounds in Sébastien that would never heal. That'd be over soon. Corentin curled up on the floor as he grabbed his crotch and couldn't quite bring himself to pull out the dagger. Sébastien eyed the tapestry again.

"I need to borrow that."

"No-wait-"

He screamed again when Sébastien ripped the dagger out, and blood blossomed on his trousers. He'd heard men scream like that before when Asmodeus had experimented by doing things to their crotches, such as castration. Men were so protective of their cocks. They'd rather lose an arm than the pathetic appendage dangling between their legs.

He marched over to the tapestry and used the dagger to cut off a long strip. To his surprise, Uncle let out a sob on the floor.

"Did I ruin your precious dick?" snarled Sébastien. "It doesn't feel so nice when someone hurts you, does it? You can hand it out, but you can't take it."

Corentin's bloody hands hit him as Sébastien shoved him onto his back and straddled him. Another flare of fire ripped a blood-curdling scream from him. That one took parts of his hair and burst blisters on his face. Fluid leaked into Corentin's open mouth, and he stiffened as Sébastien got the fabric around his neck.

"Please-"

Skin peeled from the corners of his mouth as he pleaded, and his eyes bulged when Sébastien tightened the knot he'd made. He pulled on the ends, watched the skin wrinkle on Corentin's neck, and smiled when the man's desperate, agonized eyes found his. It was amazing how pain could weaken a mortal. It didn't even take much.

"You knew having my air cut off terrified you. It didn't stop you. How does it feel when you can't breathe?"

Corentin's disgusting hands pushed on his chest, and a faint sound like a whine came from him. Sébastien pulled on the ends. Corentin's body weakened a little more, and his attempt to twist and dislodge Sébastien was pathetic.

Sébastien spit on his face. "There is nothing I hate more in this realm than you. You were supposed to protect me, but you took everything from me. I lost myself, my family, Remus-"

He cut off because that new loss incensed him so much, he didn't know how to put it into words. Before he'd known what he could potentially have, Corentin had already taken it away all because he wanted things. Disgusting things and ideas that were too big. Ideas and desires that he'd do anything for. He'd climb a pile of bodies for it, and since he'd needed his nephew to make the heap just a little bigger, he'd attempted to toss him in too.

Ideas that were nothing more than vague imaginings had turned into something potentially graspable for him. He'd snatched more and more, losing himself in the process and following the sickness in his head.

Corentin's face had a purplish tint under the seared, peeling skin, and his eyes never left Sébastien's. His lips moved in a soundless plea as if he thought Sébastien might still have pity or the beast taking over his memories and very self might change his mind and decide to let him live.

Sébastien merely stared back, satisfied. Just like Uncle had been satisfied by his desperation and fear. And while Uncle had enjoyed his tears and fear, Sébastien wasn't simply enjoying it. Savage glee that topped anything before filled him. Letting Uncle die by suffocation was the best thing he'd ever done, and it was even more delightful than ramming a dagger into Uncle's crotch.

Corentin's hands weakened too much to hit or push. A last bloom of fire formed in his hands only to snuff out as he grew too feeble to even will the magic that comes to every fairy in their youth. His eyes didn't quite seem all there either, and his body was slackening. Sébastien leaned over and brought his face closer because the last thing Corentin should see was the face of the one he'd destroyed before he died.

"You will never touch me or anyone again."

A blood vessel had burst in Uncle's left eye, and red ran through the white. If he could see anymore, Sébastien didn't know. At least he knew in his final moments who was killing him. He knew what it was like to be unable to breathe and the absolute terror that came from realizing how precarious his life was.

His hands went limp. His body didn't move, and his face had turned a sickly purple. His eyes went blank and lost the fear. Sébastien didn't release the strip of tapestry because the rage hadn't abated. He wanted to kill Uncle again. Make him cry, beg, and plead as he lost everything again and again, like his nephew had.

"Sébastien."

The voice had a broken note Sébastien had never thought he'd hear, and Uncle's ruined face swam in his vision. He hadn't heard what he thought. It was a memory dragged up by accident from Satan rifling through his brain and trying to insert himself fully to destroy him.

I'm not going anywhere, fairy. I said you're mine, and I'll destroy you before I go. Your body will work until I need a new one. Let go.

Of course, Satan would only serve himself, lie, cheat, feed, and steal to get what he wanted. He had no intention of going home, and he'd threatened Sébastien with terrors to get him to comply.

He'd never stood a chance. Satan would go on to destroy everything, and his heart skipped a beat because he hadn't saved the one man who'd gotten by the defenses and tried his best to protect him.

"Sébastien."

He couldn't be there.

Sébastien let his eyes travel up the purple runner to the burned portion, the charred corpses whose faces he couldn't remember, and the figure standing in the entrance with two swords. One was black, and the other…it was bright and shiny like the boy he'd been when Father had given it to him and showed him how to check along the blade. Sébastien had exclaimed over the pretty wing design and the ruby. He'd felt so grown up to finally have a sword of his own just like Enzo and Remere.

"The decoration is pretty, but not what matters most. What's important is that the blade is straight and true. A skilled man can't do much with a cheap blade that may break or rust. The next critical thing to remember is that you must practice because even the straightest blade means little if you can't properly wield it."

The wings. He remembered. Azazel's face had shone with joy when he'd received the present so he could serve their Father. The blade was gone, and the handguard remained. The wings spread wide just like when Azazel chose to fall, more concerned with protecting and loving the beings below instead of serving the giver of the sword.

The ruby was as red as the moon when they first crawled from their underground home, empowered by the forbidden fruit.

Remus held both as he stood there in dirty, unkingly clothes. His expression was hard to read, but the note of fear was visible. He wasn't supposed to be there. Sébastien should be dead already because he hadn't hoped for a glimpse of Remus again or to even hear his voice once more.

But Remus took a few steps in as he stared at Sébastien who hadn't moved from the corpse or loosened the knot even though Corentin was dead and gone forever.

"Can you hear me? I came to get you out." Remus paused as his eyes roved over Sébastien's burns, his face, and down to the dead body. "You're not wearing the cuffs." His eyes locked on Sébastien's. "I know you're in there. Answer me. I came here for you."

He wasn't supposed to be there to save him. Nobody would ever save Sébastien, and he'd learned that lesson a long time ago. Life had proved the truth over and over again because he couldn't even save himself. He'd only prolonged his life, dared to allow things that threatened hope, and the lesson had been smashed into him all over again.

"Sébastien!"

The pressure grew in his head, and a growl rippled through the room even though it didn't come from him. He was still there and sinking his claws deeper. Sébastien released the ends, and Corentin didn't move. Sébastien slowly stood as his eyes burned. The rage said to kill Remus too because why not? Nobody mattered. He was a useless fairy just like Sébastien with hopes too big for him.

He wanted to go home, wherever that was. It was with Remus, and that was all that mattered. He couldn't have it even though Remus was inching closer like the wolf who'd tried to defend Prince Angelo with his very life and body.

He had the sword. He needed to end, make it quick, and finish them both. They were too intertwined to split at this point.

The body was mortal.

The growl warned Sébastien as he tried to open his mouth to tell Remus to take the sword and stop him with a thrust. He didn't want to die at the hands of Satan, men who'd use him, or Uncle.

It'd be a final act of love for Remus to stop them both and truly free Sébastien from Satan.

"I'm sorry," he managed to force out as his eyes stung. His mind scrambled as his skull ached. He was sorry because Remus had dared to hope for more with him, and he'd never get it now. Neither of them would.

Kill him. The room blurred with tears as Sébastien tried to stop the fire that he no longer controlled because there was no escape or hope for Remus. The image of the man he loved and the room cracked and split like glass.

Too late. Hope was for fools.