Tarnished Embers: A Dark Stepbrother Fairytale Retelling (Dark Retellings)

Ember is mostly presentable by the time we reach our destination. The flush on her cheeks just makes her look so damn beautiful, it takes more effort than I possess not to grab hold of her when we leave the car. So I don’t bother, earning a growl from Prince—possessive bastard—as I spin her away with me and towards the monument.

“So this is Trafalgar Square, huh, Pretty Thing?” I coo in her ear as I tuck her under my arm. I fucking love that she doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arm around my waist. After all, no one knows us here. Oct snags her other hand, and I know the others are close behind us as we stare up at the tall building.

“The one and only,” she answers in that soft voice of hers. I pull her closer, letting the warm, spring sun shine down on us. I don’t think I’ll ever get over holding her after waiting for what felt like an eternity to meet her.

When Odette said we’d have a new stepsister, a plaything for us for being such dutiful stepsons, Oct and I thought we’d quickly break her with everything that we’ve craved to do after all these years. Though, after this morning, after she came on my face, filling my mouth with her pleasure, and then kissed me…fuck. Something clicked into place, and catching Oct’s eye, I knew the same was true for him.

We still want to play with her, shit, we still want to break her, but for the first time in my life, I want to put her back together again. To remake her and then bask in her fucking glory. She’s exquisite, so goddamn beautiful that it almost hurts to look at her, and there’s something about her soul that’s so pure and shines so bright. I’m drawn to her like a moth to a fucking flame and I don’t give a shit if my wings get burned.

And she wants us. Hell, she cried for Cas and he was right when he said no one has ever cried for him before, for any of us. I want to tell her our sorry tale just to see if she cares enough to shed a tear like she did for him. Something tells me she would, and fuck if it doesn’t make my soul crave her tears just to know someone cares.

“Would you like to see the gallery?” she asks eagerly, and my chest warms at the excitement in her tone. I look down at her, my breath catching at her stunning features. She’s perfection.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else, Pretty Thing,” I reply, and her cheeks flush a deeper pink at the compliment, so I resolve to use the nickname and flatter her every chance I get from now on. “Show us your favorites first.”

Her blue eyes fucking sparkle, and I can’t help it, I swoop down and place a kiss on her plush lips, her grip tightening around me, Oct clearly letting her hand go as it comes to rest right over my black heart that I’m wondering if she owns now, the other clutched tightly in my grip. Our eyes close and I get the faint hint of Cas’s musk, and fuck if that doesn’t make my dick hard again. When Cas whipped his cock out in the car, Oct and I followed suit, and watching her fall apart was the hottest fucking thing I think I’ve ever seen in my life.

Reluctantly, I pull away, her lids fluttering open before locking her stunning eyes on me again.

“What was that for?” she asks, her voice low and husky, and fucking hell, the sound makes me even harder.

“For being you, Pretty Thing,” I say, placing a light kiss on her nose because I just can’t help it. “Lead the way.” I sweep my arm out, instructing her to take us in the direction of the gallery.

She blinks twice, her eyes unfocused, and it’s too fucking adorable. I love the way I can affect her so much that she loses herself when I touch her. Then she takes a deep inhale and heads towards the massive columned building that seems to be pretty busy with people coming and going, pulling me along with her.

“You all have different accents,” she comments, and I smile as I see the dip in between her brows. “Are you not from the same place?”

“Nah, we didn’t grow up together. Well, not really,” I tell her, stepping into the cool interior of the building. The outside is fucking magnificent with towering stone columns, but the moment we step foot inside, a shiver works its way up my spine. Red marble columns hold up the impressive, painted ceiling and glass dome, and huge wooden doors lead into the galleries at the top of more steps. Shit, it’s pretty old, and there’s a feeling about it, like the building itself has its own presence and is weighing us as we step through its doors. I think I would like to study architecture, perhaps now we can follow our own interests rather than— I stop my train of thought, not wanting to think of anything bad today. Not with the sun on my arm.

“What do you mean? Where are you all from and how did you meet?”

“Curious, ain’t ya?” Oct teases, and she blushes, but he just brings her hand up to his lips and kisses her knuckles to let her know that he’s not serious.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Oct and I are from California,” I tell her as we stroll through the crowds. “We were the last to join the crew.”

“Join the crew?” She has the cutest fucking frown on her face, and I want to kiss it away, but if I do, I just won’t stop, and I want to get our story out. I need to tell her about us.

“Well, Prince was the first, then Caspian was adopted when he was nine, and Odette married our dad when we were eleven.” I can see the puzzled frown tugging her brows down and I know her next question before she even asks it. “Our mom died when we were young. I don’t really remember much about her, but apparently, she got sick and it was all over quickly.”

Her gasp pulls our little group up short, her steps faltering and her hand clenching around mine as she turns to face me. Oct, Prince, and Cas surround us so that the crowd parts like a river parts for a boulder.

“M–my mum died of cancer five years ago,” she tells us, her blue eyes already swimming, and it’s fascinating to watch such emotion fill someone so completely. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel something so keenly, it was just easier to switch it all off after Dad died, and with the shit we’ve had to do the past few years, being numb made that easier for all of us. The centre of my chest pulses with an unfamiliar ache, enough that I want to rub it away, but I resist the urge, completely captivated by our stepsister in her pain.

“I’m sorry, Pretty Thing,” I murmur, surprised to find that I am sorry for her. We knew about her mom, but hearing it from her lips and seeing her pain in the flesh hurts me deep in my soul. For years, it’s felt like I have been numb, going through the motions but not feeling much of anything, and yet, here she is, making me almost burst with emotions that I thought were long buried. I don’t like her heartache. In fact, I fucking hate it.

“What happened to your dad?”

At her question, the ache in my chest grows, a flash of pain burning hot and bright enough to steal my breath for a moment. My jaw clenches hard, my vision blurring as memories of that time try to resurface and break free from the box that I keep them in.

“He was coming to collect us from a friend’s party,” Oct interjects next to us, and his eyes have a redness to them, as they always do when he talks about that night. “It was stormy, and we’d begged him to use the Camaro earlier to come and get us.” Another sharp sting in my chest has my teeth grinding. It’s all our fault. “And the brakes failed or some shit because he came off the road and wrapped the car around a tree. He didn’t make it.” Oct’s shoulders are slumped, the last words barely a whisper over the loud crowds that are here at the gallery.

Despite that, Ember hears him alright, and I watch as the tears track down her cheeks. Fucking hell, to have someone cry over me, to feel my pain as if it were theirs is unlike anything I’ve ever known. How the hell did Cas let her go earlier?

“It’s okay, Pretty Thing,” I assure her in a hushed whisper before reaching out and cupping her cheek with my free hand. Then I rub my thumb across the smooth surface, feeling the track of her tears carving a path down her skin. “It was five and a half years ago.”

I know by the sorrow in her eyes that she realises just how similar we all are and how much we have in common.

“But it still hurts you, like it hurts me.”

I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I wonder if the whole fucking gallery can hear it.

She knows. She sees me, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. My knees feel weak, my chest tight, as I look at this young woman, barely eighteen, and marvel at how she got so fucking wise.

“Yes.” That’s all I can say. It’s a small confession that hurts with the force of a punch to the gut. I watch as another tear trails down her pale cheek, glinting in the gallery’s low light. She nuzzles into my palm, then steps closer, resting her face on my chest and releasing Oct as her arms come around me in a comforting embrace. Oct comes closer too, burying his face against her neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m so sorry, Kit, Oct,” she breathes out, and I pull her closer, absorbing her fucking light like I can’t get enough.

“See, they made us for each other, little sis,” Oct tells her, and I couldn’t agree more. She knows our agony and feels our pain like no one else.

She shivers as we press her between us all, Prince and Cas also moving closer until we’re in our own bubble and each touching her. I look up, catching each of their eyes and they all give me a nod.

We’re keeping her. She belongs to us now whether or not she wants to be. She’s more than just a toy to be tossed aside when we grow bored. She’s ours and no fucking one will take her from us.

EMBER

How can my heart feel heavy yet lighter than it has in years?

These boys, my new stepbrothers, understand me on a level that no one else ever has before, and although I’ve not heard Prince’s story yet, I can see in his green eyes that it’s as devastating as the others. As all of ours. We’ve each lost a parent, or in the twins’ and Cas’s case, both parents, and that’s something that rocks our very foundation.

“Will you show us your favorite paintings?” Oct asks softly from next to me, and my cheeks heat knowing that we’ve just been standing in the middle of the National fucking Gallery, hugging and seeking solace from each other as if we were alone and not surrounded by people.

“I’d love to,” I reply to Oct while looking up at Kit, my voice only a little thick from the sorrow that seems to surround us. Before I second-guess myself, I press my lips against his, tasting the salt of my tears as he kisses me back.

Kissing Kit is like coming home and finding everything changed. It leaves my head spinning and my pulse racing but not necessarily in a bad way. We part after several moments, only for Oct to spin me around and plant his lips on mine.

I melt into him, because what else can I do when he kisses me like I’m the oxygen he needs to breathe? He’s like a fairground ride, terrifying yet exhilarating, and my hands clutch his jumper as he deepens our kiss, giving no shits that we’re in public.

Just as quickly as he started, he pulls back, his eyes alight with mischief.

“I needed another taste after this morning,” he tells me with a wink before taking my hand and stepping to the side. My heart thuds in my chest, my stomach dipping at his words. To be wanted so fiercely is a confidence boost like no other.

Suddenly, Prince is there, and my eyes dart to his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. He’s the only one I haven’t tasted yet, and my body leans towards him in an unspoken plea. He gives me a smirk, a devilish expression that destroys my already damp knickers.

I watch, barely breathing as his hand comes out and wraps around the front of my throat before he steps closer. It’s a soft touch, his thumb stroking my racing pulse and his eyes tracking over my lips. He’s teasing me with the knowledge that he could cut off my air supply if he wanted, and the crazy thing is, I would let him, even in the middle of the foyer of the National Gallery.

My tongue comes out to trace my lips, an obvious invitation, and heat flares through me when his green eyes become the colour of emeralds; dark and sparkling.

I shut my eyes when he leans in close, waiting for his lips to land on mine.

“When I kiss you for the first time, Sugar, my thick cock will be buried so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for the rest of your life.”

My heart fucking stops, but a second later, cold air hits me like a slap to the face and my lids blink open to see him standing a few feet away, his gaze locked on me and that damn smirk on his pillowy lips. Fucking bastard.

“Ready, Cinders?” Cas asks, a slight note of teasing in his tone. I narrow my eyes at him in a glare and he laughs, the sound making butterflies swarm in my stomach. “Don’t be salty,” he says, taking Prince’s place and darting in to press a quick kiss to my lips. “And he’s not lying. Prince likes to fuck hard and deep and he’s got the weapon to back up his promises.”

My eyes widen, my mouth dropping open at his words.

“How do you know that?” The question blurts out before I can stop it, but something tells me I can guess the answer.

“We told you, we’re family, and family takes care of each other.”

Oh, my motherfucking god.

My brain just shuts the fuck down, lust roaring through me at the thought that they know each other in that way. I stand frozen in the middle of the National Gallery and try not to melt into a puddle on the polished, marble floor. Why is the idea of them together, tangled limbs, so fucking hot?

“Come on, little sis. Show us those paintings,” Oct urges, his voice full of laughter as I try to reboot all my systems, and his hand slides into mine, his palm warm and enough to get my brain semi-functional again.

He pulls me towards one of the galleries, Kit holding my other hand. I try to ignore the slightly shocked expressions on some of the people around us, having clearly caught the kisses and possibly Oct’s nickname for me. It mostly works, though I can feel their curious stares like an itch across my skin.

“Mummy, I thought you said we can’t marry our brothers?” a little girl asks as we pass, and my cheeks flare, my entire body going blistering hot.

Fuck my life.