Crystal's POV
The night dragged on like a curse.
Christian sat across the long oak table, arms folded, his gaze fixed on me like he was trying to read every ugly thought in my head. The fire crackled in the hearth, but it did nothing to warm the tension choking the room. Two untouched glasses of whiskey sat between us — symbols of restraint neither of us truly possessed.
For once, silence felt louder than shouting.
Finally, Christian broke it.
"You're losing it, Crystal," he said, his voice low but sharp. "And if you don't pull yourself together, she's going to hate us both."
I leaned back in my chair, forcing a smirk just to irritate him. "Hate us both? Brother, she already does. Did you see the way she looked at me earlier? That wasn't fear. That was disgust."
His jaw clenched. I saw the muscle jump, the anger he was trying to bury. "And whose fault is that?" he snapped. "You keep treating her like she's a soldier in your army. Bella isn't an order you can bark at or a battle you can win."
I slammed my palm on the table. The glasses rattled violently.
"Don't act like you're innocent," I growled. "You're just as obsessed as I am — you just hide it behind that calm, little protector act. At least I don't pretend. I want her. And I'll do whatever the fuck it takes to keep her."
Christian leaned forward, his eyes turning cold. Dangerous. "Even if it means destroying her?"
The question sliced deeper than I expected.
Because deep down… I knew I already had.
But I'd never admit that to him.
"You don't get it," I said, forcing steel into my voice. "Bella doesn't need saving. She needs claiming. If we let her slip, Anthony will take her. And you know exactly what kind of monster he is."
At the sound of Anthony's name, Christian froze.
For a second, something dark crossed his face — something colder than rage. Hatred. Old wounds. Blood betrayal.
"Anthony," he muttered, like the name itself was poison. "That traitor sits in our dungeon, rotting… and somehow he's still between us. Still between her."
I let out a humorless chuckle. "Maybe because he showed her something we couldn't — honesty. You and I? We lied. We hid her. We loved her in chains. But him? He never hid his darkness. Maybe that's why she looked at me like that… like she finally saw me for who I really am."
Christian shot to his feet, chair screeching backward. "Don't you dare compare yourself to him. Don't you dare put Bella in the same sentence with that traitor."
I stood too. Chest to chest. Brothers by blood. Enemies by desire.
"She's the crack in this family," I said roughly. "And you know it. Either blood comes before love… or love burns this bloodline to ash."
For a long moment, Christian didn't move.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said,
"If it comes to it, Crystal… I'll choose her. Even if it means losing you."
For the first time in years, I had nothing to say.
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Crystal's POV
The house was too damn quiet.
Christian thought I was asleep. He was wrong.
Sleep hasn't touched me in weeks.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Bella — her blood, her tears, the way her voice cracked when she told me to get out. The look in her eyes like I wasn't her protector anymore… but her enemy.
It eats me alive.
So instead of lying in bed drowning in guilt, I poured myself another drink, lit a cigar, and walked where I shouldn't.
Down the stone steps.
Past the iron doors.
Into the belly of the house.
The dungeon.
The guards stiffened when they saw me, but one look shut them up. No one tells Crystal Abaddon where he can or can't go.
The stench of blood, sweat, and mold hit me as I pushed open the heavy door.
And there he was.
Anthony.
My brother.
Our betrayer.
Chained to the wall. Hair matted. Face hollow. But those eyes… those eyes still burned with that same smug fire. Like chains couldn't touch his pride.
"Well, well," he rasped. "If it isn't the dog who thinks he's the wolf."
I smirked, blowing smoke into the damp air. "Funny, coming from the brother who sold us out. How's the stone bed treating you?"
He laughed — low and broken. "Better than your conscience, I bet."
That hit closer than I liked.
I stepped closer, crouching until we were face to face. "You don't know shit about me."
"Oh, but I do," Anthony said softly, tilting his head. "I know you crave control because you've never truly had it. I know you hurt Bella because you're terrified she'll choose Christian. And I know…"
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper.
"…that you're exactly like me."
The words hung in the cold air.
I should've hit him. Should've shattered his jaw for even saying her name.
Instead, I froze.
Fists trembling. Rage so hot it felt like fear.
"Careful, brother," I growled. "Chains can come off. And if you ever say her name again, I'll make sure you beg for death."
Anthony just smiled.
Not broken.
Not beaten.
Smiled.
"Too late, Crystal," he said calmly. "She'll find me before you kill me. Queens don't bow to wolves… they tame them."
I turned on my heel before I did something I couldn't take back.
The iron door slammed shut behind me.
But his words followed me up the stairs… into my mind… into my chest.
And for the first time in years, I wondered if maybe I wasn't the wolf after all.
Maybe I was just a man afraid of losing his queen.