Chapter 36 The Fall
\[WARNING: The following chapters contain depictions of physical and emotional abuse that may be triggering for some readers. Please proceed with caution.\]
The rot in Sebastian’s life didn't start slowly; it happened all at once. He was only four years old when his world fell apart, right when his mother, Orphelia, took over as Alpha. She didn't lead alone. She brought Dylan—a man who liked the kind of darkness that made your blood run cold.
They were a matched set, a pair of predators who found a sick, masochistic rhythm in each other's company.
"Brother... what’s happening?" Ian asked. He was younger, smaller, and his voice sounded thin in the quiet of their bedroom.
Sebastian didn't have an answer, so he did what he always did—he acted like the adult. He shrugged, trying to keep his shoulders steady. "I am not entirely sure. Mother sent word. She wants us in her room."
"In the middle of the night?" Ian asked, his eyes darting to the clock hanging on the wall. The hands were fixed at 11:00 PM, a time when the rest of the mansion was usually silent.
Sebastian heaved a sigh, feeling every bit of the exhaustion weighing him down. He sat at the edge of Ian’s bed, the frame creaking under him. He looked at his younger brother—at how small he looked in the dim light—and tried to keep his face steady.
"You know how she has been. Ever since Dylan came, she... she is not herself,” Sebastian said, his voice low so it wouldn't carry past the door. "It is better if we do not keep her waiting. It only makes her angry."
He put a hand on Ian’s shoulder, trying to promise he’d keep him safe, even though he wasn't sure he could.
"Alright," Ian said softly. He climbed out of bed, his small feet hitting the cold floor.
They walked together down the long, dark hallway. Sebastian had always hated this part of the house. At the end was the black door—a door they were never allowed to open. Tonight, that door was waiting for them.
Years later, Sebastian would realize that waking Ian up that night was the biggest mistake he ever made.
"What is this?" The words died in Sebastian’s throat the second they walked in.
The room smelled like heavy perfume and metal. Orphelia was there, but she wasn't the mother who used to tuck them in. She was tied to the bed, naked and struggling, with a gag wrapped tight around her mouth.
It was a detail Sebastian wanted to vomit out of his memory, a image so wrong it made his skin crawl.
Dylan turned away from the bed with a slow, greasy smile. Before Ian could see too much, Sebastian moved, shoving his hand over his brother’s eyes.
"Do not look, Ian," he said sharply.
"Come on now. Do not cover the boy's eyes," Dylan said, his voice deep and mean. He started walking toward them, his boots thumping on the carpet. "We have a job for the two of you tonight."
Before Sebastian could move back, Dylan’s hand shot out. His fingers wrapped around Sebastian’s neck like a trap. There was no escaping a grip like that—not when you were only eleven years old and barely reaching his chest.
"Why don't you—"
"No." Sebastian spat the word out before Dylan could even finish his sentence. He didn't need to hear the rest to know it was something vile.
The defiance only made Dylan’s grip tighten, his fingers crushing Sebastian’s windpipe until the edges of his vision started to blur.
"What did you say to me?"
Sebastian mashed his teeth together, trying to breathe. He looked straight into Dylan’s eyes, refusing to look away. "I said no."
Dylan laughed—a dry, nasty sound—and threw Sebastian to the side like a piece of trash. Sebastian hit the floor hard. His lungs burned as he tried to catch his breath. He felt Ian’s shaking hands on his back, trying to help him up.
"My brother... he said no," Ian stammered. He tried to sound brave like Sebastian, but his voice cracked at the end, betraying just how terrified he was.
"No? No?" Dylan laughed even harder. "Then I guess you both need a lesson."
He lunged forward, grabbing both of them by the arms. They kicked and clawed at him, digging their heels into the floor, but Dylan didn't even flinch. He was an Alpha in his prime, and they were just kids; to him, they were nothing but dolls being dragged to a playhouse.
Dylan kicked a secondary door open and, without a second thought, threw them down the stairs.
"Fuck!" Sebastian yelled as his body slammed against the wood. He tumbled until he hit the bottom. "Ian? Talk to me. Are you okay?"
"I... I think so," Ian choked out.
Sebastian did a quick count in his head—they had fallen at least ten steps. Every bone in his body felt like it had been rattled loose.
"Mother! There is no way you will permit this!" Sebastian yelled at the top of his lungs, looking up at the rectangle of light from the open door. He prayed she would rip that gag off, that she would shift and tear Dylan apart for touching them. They were her sons. They were her blood.
But all he heard was the slow, rhythmic clack of Dylan’s boots as the man began to walk down the stairs.
Sebastian scrambled to his feet, trying to blink the spots from his eyes. The room was a cellar, empty and freezing, lit only by a single, bare lightbulb that flickered overhead. Then he saw them—chains bolted to the floor. There were cuffs for two people. Two for the ankles, and a heavy set to lock hands in place.
"Mother!" Dylan mocked, using a high, teasing voice. He lunged and grabbed Sebastian, dragging him toward the metal. With a loud click, the cuffs locked around Sebastian’s ankles. Then his wrists.
"Shit," Sebastian hissed. He was pinned to the floor.
Ian didn't stay down. With a desperate cry, he jumped onto Dylan’s back, biting and scratching at the man’s neck. Dylan didn't even grunt. He reached back, plucked Ian off his shoulders like he was pulling a stray hair from a coat, and threw him across the room.
Ian hit the stone wall with a loud thud.
"No! Ian, do not fight him!" Sebastian screamed, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt completely, utterly powerless. "Just... just stay down. Let him do what he wants."
Ian looked at Sebastian from the floor. He was confused and hurt, but then his eyes changed. He looked at his older brother and chose to trust him. He stopped fighting and went still.
Ian was only seven back then.