Iris:
"Hello, sister," my brother remarked, stepping into the room with a smirk.
Imdiately, alarms rang in my head. I noticed blood on his clothes, and he noticed staring at it. Fear crept through my veins, and I stepped away from him. I rembered the last ti he had co unannounced. It ended in disaster.
"Co on, do not look so scared of ," he taunted. "Are you not going to welco your brother ho?"
He suddenly stopped, then opened his arms toward . When I did not move to hug him, he threw his head back and paused, as if thinking deeply.
"Oh, I rember," he said. "Is it because of Robin?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly to deepen his gaze. "I am so sorry. It was just a mistake," he added dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest.
"You killed him, brother," I whispered, my voice shaking as mories flooded back.
Flashback
"What are you doing in my room?" I asked Robin, smiling, though fear sat heavy inside . He should not have been there, especially not at that hour.
My mother had told Wilson had been restless all day. Sothing was wrong with him. He had suffered pain for years, but lately, it had turned into aggression.
"I was supposed to take these mangoes to the royal kitchen," Robin replied softly. "I took so there and brought so for you. I know you love them." He handed a basket filled with fresh mangoes.
I smiled at the sight and quickly took it from his hands. I could have had as many mangoes as I wanted, but it always ca at a cost. My mother would make spend ti with my brother, who terrified . He would speak about hurting innocent people, and I would panic. My mother believed I needed to stop judging him, so she pushed to sit and listen to his words.Because of that, I had stopped asking for anything. Nothing was worth enduring what I went through every ti my mother granted a wish. In that sense, the basket of mangoes felt like a test of my patience.
"And I wanted to tell you sothing," Robin added, rubbing his forehead with a nervous smile. "I an, confess sothing."
I widened my eyes and waited. I already knew what he wanted to say. He was going to tell he liked . I liked him too. We were young, very young, but still. We had known each other for a long ti, and the idea of growing older with soone like him beside felt comforting.
Robin had just opened his mouth, and I had lowered my gaze shyly, when I heard him gasp. The sound made look up at once. His face had lost all color. His eyes were wide, tears streaming down his cheeks, his mouth parted as if words were trapped in his throat.
"Robin, what happened?" I asked urgently. "Are you okay?"
Before I could move closer or ask anything else, he dropped to his knees. Blood spilled from his chest.
Behind him stood my brother. He looked unhinged, his lycan form rising but not fully taking over, which made him even more terrifying. In his hand was Robin’s heart, torn free and clenched tightly, a grin spread across his face.
"What did you do?" I scread.
He lunged at , gripping my head from behind and forcing the torn heart against my mouth.
End Of Flashback
"That was when I was crazy," my brother excused himself, wearing a mocking smile with fake guilt written all over his face.
From that day onward, life turned worse for , if it had not already been that way.
My mother grew heavily protective of my brother, forcing everyone never to call him a monster, even when he was one.
He would scream and attack anyone he wanted.
My mother would even present him with innocent people so he could release his anger on them.
She kept count of the bodies he left behind.
She knew how many he killed in a day before he cald down, so she made sure there were enough people ready.
That went on for so ti before it escalated, and no amount of killing was enough for him. He wanted more.
He had tasted blood, and he had forced to taste the heart before I spat it out and ran.
He chased through the entire mansion while I cried and called for the warriors, for the fighters to help . Eventually, my father arrived.
He secured , but told I needed to calm down, reminding that he was my brother.
My mother’s reaction was different. She slapped several tis in private for calling my brother a monster.
She said he was just sick, and that you feel sympathy for sick people, not call them monsters.
She was wrong. She was the one shaping him into a monster.
Maybe he was sick, but that did not an the people who died ant nothing.
"How are you up?" I asked him as my back hit the closet door.
"Well, Mother woke up, but I am sad you did not," he replied. "Mother told you were the one who got the cure. I do not hate you anymore," he added in a hollow tone, as if he did not believe his own words. His jaw tightened.
"Whose blood is that?" I asked, pointing at his shirt.
He glanced down as he stepped closer. One hand pressed against the closet door beside my head, the other resting on his waist.
"This?" he remarked lightly. "When I woke up, I attacked a few people, but then I got the cure. I am fine now."
He raised both hands at once, signaling that he would not hurt anyone again.
"By the way, when I was arriving at your room, guess what I saw?" he asked, snapping his fingers, as if inviting into so gossip.
"What?" I replied, fear tightening in my chest, already sensing the news would not be good.
"I am an uncle."
The mont he said those words, I slamd my hand against his chest, pushed him away, and bolted out of the room.
"Co on, sister, do not be so rude," I heard him call after , but I was already hurrying toward my children’s room.
The mont I stepped inside, disaster struck. My children were not in their beds.
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