Tristan was reason the Scarlet continued to die. Tristan’s immortal blood lived in Scarlet’s heart and tore it from the inside out until her mortal body could no longer sustain its power.
Scarlet was Gabriel’s one ray of light, one beam of hope.
And Tristan had taken her from him.
He was always taking her from him.
Gabriel could almost hear his soul snap. “This is all your fault.” Gabriel glared at his twin brother as he moved around the table, lowering his voice. “She was shot with an arrow that was meant to kill you. You’re the reason she’s dead.”
It was irrational. Illogical. But Gabriel didn’t care. He needed to hate someone for the pain he felt.
Sitting on the kitchen floor with his back against the wall, Tristan looked up with wide, glossy eyes. “I was trying to save her life.”
“You were being careless!”
Tristan shook his head.
“Yes,” Gabriel said darkly. “You were being careless. Reckless.”
A muscle flexed in Tristan’s jaw as he stood up and spoke quietly. “Reckless was you allowing her to meet me when I specifically said I didn’t want to be around her.”
Gabriel’s voice rose. “No. You don’t get to blame me for this. This,” he pointed to Scarlet’s body, “is on you.” Gabriel shoved Tristan into the kitchen wall and Tristan’s eyes flashed in anger.
For a moment, they both stood still. Gabriel moved to push Tristan again and Tristan knocked his hands away, causing Gabriel to stumble back a step.
Filled with sorrow and frustration, Gabriel did the only thing he could think of to relieve his anger.
He punched Tristan in the face.
A loud crack sounded into the living room as Tristan’s chin jolted at the blow.
Silence.
Tristan turned deadly eyes on Gabriel—eyes Gabriel hadn’t seen in many years—and threw back his own punch, knocking his fist into Gabriel’s jaw.
Grabbing Tristan by the shoulders, Gabriel sank his fingers into his brother’s upper arms, and threw him to the ground, slamming his fist into Tristan’s gut.
Tristan wrestled Gabriel off of him, returning a blow to Gabriel’s side.
“Hey, hey!” Nate stepped forward and held up a hand. “I think we all just need to calm down for a minute.”
Gabriel and Tristan ignored him.
Through a series of punches and throws, the brothers fought with one another across the living room, knocking over furniture and slamming into walls.
Both of them hurt.
Both of them angry.
Both of them with no one else to blame.
Gabriel pushed his pent up frustration out through his fists, savoring the crack and thud of each punch to Tristan’s body.
Tristan fought back, gripping at Gabriel’s shoulders and tossing him to the side, throwing responsive punches straight into Gabriel’s nose.
Broken skin, bleeding cuts, bruised flesh…none of it was enough to fill the hole.
Gabriel grasped Tristan’s shoulders, raised him up, and shoved him into the large window at the back of the living room. The window cracked and shattered under the weight of Tristan’s body, pieces falling everywhere like glass raindrops. Beautiful and sharp, sprinkling the floor with a thousand pieces of something broken and destroyed by them.
Tristan caught himself on the window’s frame and hurled his body back at Gabriel, throwing another punch.
Gabriel filled with more darkness than ever before and it was empowering. He slammed his fist into Tristan’s head.
It felt good to fight; to blame. To be out of control and fueled by sadness.
He knew it.
Tristan knew it.
Nate, however, didn’t seem to understand.
“Stop it!” Nate’s voice was loud, but inconsequential. “Stop it!” He grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt and pulled him away from Tristan. Struggling to shake off his friend, Gabriel twisted and fought, but Nate held steady. “Cut it out. Both of you.” He looked at Gabriel first, then Tristan.
And then at the window.
“Seriously, guys?” Nate said. “The window?”
Tristan took a step back, never taking his eyes off Gabriel.
Breathing heavily, Gabriel shrugged Nate off and looked at his twin. “I hate you.”
Tristan pulled a shard of glass from his hand and spit blood onto the wood floor of the living room. “You too.”
“The next time you try to kill yourself,” Gabriel said, teeth gritted, “don’t screw it up. Just die.”
Nate held a hand up in between them. “Okay, okay—”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tristan’s eyes hardened as he took a step forward, glass crunching beneath his shoe.
“I would.” Gabriel nodded. “You’re poison to Scarlet. You sulk in the background like a quiet monster, slowly killing her from the inside out.”
Tristan lifted his chin defiantly. “At least I don’t beg her to love me like a lovesick puppy.”
Gabriel curled a lip and pushed Nate out of the way, charging at Tristan again. He had just fisted his shirt collar when Tristan suddenly winced and fell to his knees. But Gabriel was barely touching him.
What the hell?
Confused, Gabriel released Tristan’s collar and stepped back.
“What’s going on?” a soft voice said.
Gabriel turned to see Scarlet standing at the edge of the room, her big eyes taking in the sight of the destroyed furniture and bloody brothers. “What happened?”
“Scarlet?” Gabriel’s mouth fell open as he looked her over.
She was alive.
Like a light bulb switching on inside his soul, the darkness Gabriel had so willingly surrendered to just moments ago disappeared, replaced by a new, more powerful substance.
Hope.
6
Every piece of Tristan was screaming internally.
His lungs. His head. His heart.
He’d never experienced anything more excruciating in all of his existence.
But it was the best thing he’d ever felt.
Because pain—sickening, life-draining pain…pain that brought him to his knees and invaded his soul—this kind of pain always meant one thing.
Scarlet was alive.
His heart climbed up his chest. Eager. Desperate. Devouring the familiar pull of Scarlet’s heart. The agony made it impossible for him to move without groaning, but he didn’t care.
Because Scarlet was alive.
He could feel her raging heart beating with more fever than ever before, resounding in his chest and slowly bringing purpose back to his soul.
7
Tristan tried to die.
Scarlet could think of nothing else as she scanned the cabin’s living room. Gabriel’s muscular body blocked her view of the room as he hurried over to her.
His shirt was torn and his nose was bleeding as he gently cupped her face. “I thought I lost you,” he said with emotion. “I was so scared.” Scarlet looked into her boyfriend’s deep brown eyes. Why had he thought he lost her?
Scarlet watched Nate rush up to her as well. “Scarlet! Do you remember us?” He flittered around her in bafflement.