Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

KASMINE.

I was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically...

Everything felt dull and heavy. My thoughts were too jagged to fit neatly in my head.

I didn't even have the strength to be angry anymore. And Kester wasn't making it any easy for me to stay angry.

Because what the hell did he buy all these for? I had only asked for something to eat. Just something simple, anything, But instead, I walked downstairs to a goddamn mall dumped in the living room. The dining table must be groaning under the weight of food, tech, shopping bags, boxes wrapped in ribbons, and a ridiculous lavender package I didn't even want to know the price of

He'd gone feral in the name of "getting something for me to eat."

He was a mix of sweetness and bitterness. He was both safe and dangerous. He was a blend of warmth and wrath. He was honey on a blade. He was sweet and lethal. He was... Oh, my God.

He was a complex man... So complex that I found myself making up excuses for all his wrongdoings June told me about. I shouldn't forgive him. But here I was, standing in the middle of a fantasy he created just for me... and trying not to cry.

Because deep down, I knew what this was.

It was Kester's version of love.

Wild. Obsessive. Unhinged.

And real, in a way that terrified me.

But this wasn't right. What was wrong was wrong. There shouldn't be excuses, let alone me making them up for him.

"Why, baby?" he asked cautiously as if approaching a wounded animal. "How?"

He stepped closer, searching my eyes with that impossible softness he reserved only for me. “Talk to me, please. Is it something I

did?

I felt the knot in my chest tighten, a fresh wave of frustration crashing against my ribs.

He was the problem. And still-somehow-he made himself sound like the victim.

Had he actually forgotten what the problem was? He had forgotten that all wasn't well?

"Aren't you proud of me tonight?" he asked, his voice almost childlike now, like a boy desperate for approval. He cupped my face gently in his hands, the pads of his thumbs brushing just beneath my eyes.

I stopped when you asked me to," he whispered. "I didn't kill her anymore, I promise. Is this about her?"

He let out a nervous scoff and shook his head, "She's fine. I left her alone the moment you said to."

God, no.

"You saw that, right? I did that for you. I'd do anything for you, my love. Anything."

His voice cracked on that last word, the kind of crack that sounded like it had a thousand jagged edges.

And the worst part?

ile meant it. Every, Single, Word,

I could see something raw and exposed in his face as if he didn't understand why

I wasn't crumbling into his arms or that he couldn't comprehend why his endless

offerings weren't enough to stch the pieces back together.

Because, in his mind, he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Kester..." My voice cracked, "Please. Make things easy for me."

I stared at him, at those maddeningly tender eyes that didn't know how to be wrong. "Allow me to get mad at you. Allow me to feel rage. Allow me to hurt when you hurt me.” I said weakly, fighting back the tears that settled in my eyes, “You can't just... Hurt me and fix it immediately, as if nothing happened. I feel suffocated, Kes.. My life is a mess right now."

His expression faltered. His shoulders dropped a little, almost as if my words knocked the air right out of him.

"Look? If this is about the baby, I am sorry for taking you unawares. I swear. But I had to, baby. I sincerely needed you by my side. You keep me sane. You keep me

alive. I..." He swallowed hard. "I can't breathe without you."

And for a second, he looked like he might break in half.

But I couldn't let his brokenness swallow me anymore.

"Did you ever think for once what this would do to me if my mate turned out to be someone else? Did you ever stop to think that I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you?" I asked, and finally, the anger I had been trying to summon was now bubblingnoveldrama

from within.

His smile was heartbreaking. Delirious.

"Yes, butterscotch," he said as if I'd just asked him whether he remembered to lock the door. "I did. I thought about all that."

Then he took another slow step toward me as if he wasn't close enough. His voice became so gentle that it felt like he was explaining something to a frightened child.

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that is a start at least he sees it is wrong a bit although he still plays victim and justify himself. I am glad she is standing up for herself and telling him it is wrong. He put her.