BOOK ONE PART TWO- THE CLAN CELEBRATION
Brandon and Ezekiel had a difficult meeting. Their interactions with each other hampered by personal demons, family members....and their undeniable attraction to one another. Still virtual strangers both the...
After a release.....came the true horror. Because once the Flame was diminshed....it had to be refilled. Or the consequences would be dire.
"OH GOD!!" Brandon cried into his chest as his awareness expanded painfully all around him. It expanded so sharply and so fast that his temples throbbed. Suddenly a nausea over took him, stumbling like a drunk Brandon ran to the bath room and vomited into the toilet. His entire body retching so violently that a sob of pain was pulled out of his throat. With his head over the bowl....Brandon was hit with a second bout of nausea as his entire body began to harden.
In the depths of his awareness.....life skittered across his senses tantalizing him...calling him. A sharp ache stabbed him in the stomach. An ache he didn't want to acknowledge.
Brandon sobbed and wanted to escape, but nothing would help him now....not even thoughts of Ezekiel....because all he heard were Ezekiels frustrated questions.
What are you hiding? Why do you want to leave so badly? Why won't you let me touch you?
Ezekiel had asked him various times. He was so determined to peak beneath the secrets, but Brandon knew that Ezekiel didn't want to see....this. Didn't need to know about the.....fucked up monster that he was. Lusting after life.
This is what he hid from Ezekiel. A confusing, morphing, hungry, dangerous energy.
An energy that no one could stop. No one could control. No one could survive. Not even the man who was shackled to it.
Brandon found Ezekiel sexy, and charming and alluring and generous. But this secret....his past. He was dead inside of it all. Murdered by circumstances.
The memories of soft wet lips, azure eyes, and a solid body between his legs made Brandon want to cry even harder, because they were things that only caused him more pain. Because they were like a promise, but Brandon would never see those promises fulfilled.
Brandon's future had died long ago...and so he couldn't possible offer any of it to the alluring Guardian.
He couldn't see anything beyond this. Beyond what THEY had done to him because of the Flame. What they had done to his body for the Flame.
Brandon wanted to find solace as he wiped the tears from his eyes, but the only solace he found was in memories of Ezekiels sure touch, his commanding presence...the heat of his lips and his tongue on Brandon's body. But even these sweet memories were marred by Brandon's past. By the Flame.
Because of the Flame he had done horrible things. And because of the flame touch....desire....happiness didn't exist for him. Brandon's existence was riddled with the truth of agony. Everyone's pleasure had always been derived from his own pain. Every touch had ended in wretchedness. He was an affliction.
The Flame was a disease that would infect and kill....it wanted to use him to kill. And at times he found it hard to resist.
Like in that moment. With the flame released out of his body....a small flicker remained. A small ember that would never die, but somehow it sizzled Brandon up inside like a ragging inferno.
An inferno of need and hunger....and dark demand.
For hours Brandon remained in his room after that. Fighting the hollow caver inside where the ember burned him. Needled him. Cut him up.
Slowly....what little energy remained, coursed up and down Brandon's arms, healing the burnt, split, and bloody mess that ha d become of his hands. Slowly the blood dried, flesh flacked off and fresh pink skin grew back, his severed fingers and exposed bones slowly knit back into place. Once his palms stopped throbbing Brandon gingerly slid his leather gloves overtop the fresh flesh that had been grown and tried to breath.
But the act of healing only made the flame smaller....more insistent. The agony of it....began to drive him mad....because as much as Brandon wanted to deny it....this Flame was a part of him....and its pain...was his own.
But Brandon hated the Flame. He wanted to hurt it. He wanted it to die. He wanted it to suffer....but all of this just came back around on him......and all Brandon had to do....was let himself feed. His awareness of everybody in the house remained heightened. It was like having a giant map in his head, and small buzzes of energy simply marked in his head exactly where the bodies he needed to devour resided.
Somehow he just knew that Glen was a few feet above him sleeping in her bed with Mantilo.
Brandon knew that Lander and Nate were somewhere to the far left of the Mansion.....and that Walter was down in the kitchen and that Ezekiel was somewhere in his room just a few feet down the hallway.
And just like that....as if just thinking of Ezekiel was permission....the hunger, the awareness snapped tightly around Ezekiels presence only a few walls away from him. A dull, simply buzz in the air told Brandon where he was.
With thoughts of Ezekiel....
And a mind that was heavy and a body that was being ripped apart. Brandon soon found his feet, wiped his mouth and before he knew it, somehow he was standing outside of Ezekiels door trembling. His entire mind and body at the mercy of the Flame. He just wanted it to stop hurting. And it just wanted to feed.
Only a little...just a taste!
Something small whispered to him inside making Brandon reach out towards Ezekiels door....then whimper and stop himself.
One taste....was death as sure as anything if he lost control. So why was he standing here?
I don't want to hurt him...I've never wanted to hurt any of them...
Brandon thought and tried to deny the dark urge to feed the Flame.
But his entire body was throbbing with the hunger....but also something else. Brandon felt his cock swelling, lust wrapped tight around his body at the thought of sex and death. His breathing was ragged as he reached out to Ezekiels door once more and this time he put his hand on the knob. His prey only seconds from his grasp. He wanted every inch of the Shifter inside if him, under him, making love to him, feeding the emptiness...he could barely swallow all the saliva just thinking of devouring...
NO! NO! Not Ezekiel!
Brandon pulled back. His mind and body and his soul all being pulled in different directions. Tearing at his hair Brandon, covered his mouth, turned on a muffled scream and fled the mansion.
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