For the Broken

9 🔴 Power

Osiris occupied the chair tucked into the corner of their shared bedroom, where his mate lay fast asleep on the bed, her chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm.

His whiskey had lost its liquor taste an hour ago when he had his first glass. This was his fourth, or at least, that's what he imagined it to be.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Desmond popped his head in. His eyes shifted to Seraphina, then back to Osiris in the corner, eventually dropping to the glass in his brother's hand, resting on the arm of the chair.

Brows raised, pointing at the glass, Desmond inquired, 'First glass?'

Osiris merely shook his head. Desmond nodded in understanding, taking one last glance at his Luna before heading to the shelf with an empty glass and a bottle of whiskey.

He pulled out the cork with an audible pop. Osiris shot him an irritated side-eye, while Desmond offered an apologetic smile, silently mouthing an apology.

'What happened?' Desmond asked, taking a sip of whiskey and leaning against the back of his brother's chair.

'She broke down finally,' Osiris admitted, it wasn't with out regret. It was meant to be a liberating moment, so why did it feel like it buried her further into unrest?

He took a gulp of whiskey, making it a habit to swig liquor every time he felt ridden with guilt. This was just another moment in a long list of mistakes he'd made with her.

He took another sip; his fourth glass was nearly empty.

'Slow down, you don't want to be like me, falling asleep in the shower,' Desmond joked, but Osiris found no amusement in it.

Osiris stood up and made his way to Seraphina's bedside table. He sighed before slipping his hand under the covers and gently grabbing her wrist.

Her gold-branded arm hung before Desmond, and his mouth fell open. 'What is that?'

'Don't you think if I knew, I would have told you.'

'First off, don't be a grouch. Second, how did that happen?' Desmond took a step closer, examining the bright gold swirls that adorned her arm.

Osiris put her arm down softly before sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, resting an elbow on his knee with his glass in hand, another hand on the back of his neck.

'When she fell unconscious, when she broke down,' Osiris admitted.

'Goddess above, Oz, I said talk to her, get her to express her feelings. I didn't say make her relive it all.'

Osiris shot him a dark look. If looks could kill, 'I didn't. I took your advice. It's not my fault you didn't give me step-by-step instructions.'

'I never thought I had to. Now I realize you're dumber than a sack of bricks,' Osiris growled, and Seraphina stirred under the covers.

The brothers stilled, waiting for her stiff muscles to fall back against the bed before releasing their breath. Her arm slipped out from beneath the blanket, and the gold tattoo throbbed with her beating heart.

'I've read about that once before,' Desmond eyed the golden tattoo with fascination.

Osiris chuckled, looking down at his glass, unable to believe his little brother was capable of sitting down for longer than a few minutes. 'You read?'

Through narrowed eyes, Desmond said, 'Yes.' He stepped closer to Seraphina, stopping before her on his hunches. His eyes skimmed over the golden tattoo, following the flow and curve of the intricate lines. They all led back to her hand, where the thin golden lines found the root of their beginning or end on her finger. Each line was a ray of sun that circled the sun birthmark on her finger.