23 | Playing with Fire

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"Roman, stop!" I screamed, horrified to see that he was pinning Axel to the wall with his strong hands clutching his brother's collar hard. "Stop it!"

"Now, Roman," Dad tried to soothe, standing up and unconsciously spreading his arms. "I know that you do not want my daughter to be here-not now or for a while, at least, but-"

Unfortunately, the man he was talking to pretended not to hear him. He was too busy shooting daggers in Axel's direction with cold crimson eyes. "Why?" he demanded lowly, jaws clenching.

"Don't you want to put me down first before I answer you?" Axel suggested jokingly. "Come on, man, just chill. Try, at least." He held his brother's hands gently. "Put me down. Matteo believes it's time for Venise to know at least half the truth from us."

It was a good thing the door to their dorm was closed because if it was open, all the students living in the building would most likely come and take videos and chant some brothers' fight. They'd do that, I was sure, when Roman groaned and literally swept Axel from his feet, sending him flying across the room, banging his head and back on the wall. And it was not not serious. The wall had a huge crack. It even shook.

My eyes rounded with shock and terror at the sight of Roman's unleashed rage. He was breathing hard with his back on me. If Axel had been human, he would have bled so much by now. He would have been taken to the hospital already, too. But, no. The back of Axel's head was bleeding a bit, but that was all. He scowled and groaned in his state of position and condition, though he got up as soon as he placed his hands on the floor, letting himself up. He stood straight and a hand clutched at the back of his head.

"You know that I would never hurt you, Rome," he said in a low, breathy voice, "but don't push me."

I never knew that Axel Van Allen was capable of becoming angry. I didn't even know he was acquainted with wrath! He was always the most charming of the brothers. He always gave a smile for everyone and he was just plain nice to almost everyone he met. But standing there alongside my father, I was wronged. Not once had I seen his eyes flash any other color or even darken than his original turquoise depths. I only saw his eyes scintillate gloriously with merriment. Until now.

It flashed an angry cobalt blue, hot and fuming. He was obviously seething inside. "I've always been nice to you. The most supportive and understanding. Hell, all of us always have had the patience when it comes to your temper. But you're becoming too much, Roman," he continued, pausing to remove his hand from the back of his scalp, eyeing the patch of blood on his hand. He closed his eyes and gave a vicious swipe at the back of his head. The blood immediately reduced to nothingness, leaving off a clean head. Even his hand was clean. "It's a good thing I have Heal," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"You were saying?" Roman said dryly.

"Your dander should remain intact, ragazzo." Dad walked over to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Which was quickly shrugged off by Roman.

"This is your fault!" he hissed at my father. "You never should have brought her along." He looked over his shoulder to me, his eyes like pools of blood. "It's not yet the time but you still went for it. I thought we all agreed that she should get to know herself completely before telling everything."

My father sighed in defeat, sitting on the bed again with his shoulders slumped forward. He placed his elbows on his knees, fingers linked loosely together. "What did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to keep your agreement with us. With me," Roman said tightly. "You promised, Matteo."

"I know that," Dad answered quietly. "But I could not. I-"

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