Dean’s POV
I shouldn’t have stopped.
I shouldn’t have let Kane feel
all
of it.
But I did.
I kept
absorbing
the darkness.
And the more I took in, the
harder
it became to control.
I remember the first time I let a little slip through the cracks. Giving him just a fraction of what he was
meant
to feel.
He came to me that night, his voice unusually quiet, his expression guarded.
"I want to try something,"
he said.
"Something... different."
I didn’t give much of a fuck. Kane was always so damn
proper
, so
controlled
. So, if he wanted to dip his toes into something darker? Why the hell not?
"Go for it."
That’s how Laura came to be.
His first sub.
His first taste of
control
.
And I didn’t mind.
I let him
play
. Let him explore that side of himself.
Until she threw herself at me.
And let’s be honest—who
turns down
an easy fuck?
Certainly
not
me.
So, yeah. I fucked her.
And when Kane found out, he was
furious
.
Raging. Snarling.
And I?
I didn’t give a single damn.
Not until he
called me
during one of his punishment sessions.
That’s when I knew something was
wrong
.
Because I could
feel
it.
The darkness inside him.
It was clawing its way up, creeping in, tainting his every thought.
Laura had disobeyed him, and instead of the usual punishment, he had
snapped
.
I remember walking into that room, the scent of leather and sweat thick in the air, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across Kane’s face.
He was
gone
.
His eyes—usually sharp, calculating—were empty.
And Laura?
She was trembling.
On her knees.
Tears staining her cheeks as she
pleaded
.
Begging him to stop.
But he didn’t even
hear
her.
Because he wasn’t
Kane
anymore.
The darkness had him.
And if I didn’t step in?
She was going to
die
.
So, I did what I always did.
I
took
it.
I absorbed every ounce of his rage, his sadistic hunger, his
need
to break her.
And just like that—
He
sobered up
.
The fog lifted.
He looked down at Laura, at the
damage
he had done, and guilt swallowed him whole.
He let her go.
Forgave her.
And
I
was left carrying the weight of what he had
almost
become.
That night, I made a decision.
I could
never
afford to let my guard down again.
Because if I did?
Kane wouldn’t survive it.
But the problem with absorbing darkness is that it needs an
outlet
.
And with the entire
pack
against me, with his parents whispering their poison, I had no reason to care anymore.
So, I found an outlet.
I left the packlands.
I went to the rogues.
I
drank
from them.
Filthy, desperate bastards.
Nothing like pack wolves.
But it worked.
I could drain them dry, and no one would give a damn.
I could take their rage, their hatred, their sins—and for a moment, it felt
good
.
But I
forgot
something.
Rogues and vampires have
never
been friends.
It was a humiliation unlike any other.
To have a vampire drink from them?
To be nothing more than
prey
?
They were
furious
.
And when they found out where I was from?
When they saw my face and realized I looked exactly like Kane?
They wanted
revenge
.
They stormed the pack.
Slaughtered Kane’s parents.
Burned down half of what he called home.
And who did he blame?
Me.
Even now, after all these years.
He still blames
me
.
*******
Kane never forgave me.
Not for Laura.
Not for the rogues.
Not for the deaths of his parents.
And honestly? I never asked him to.
Because deep down, I knew the truth.
He needed someone to blame. Someone to bear the weight of his sins. Someone to carry the darkness so he could stay
clean
.
And that someone had always been
me
.
I was the monster lurking in the shadows, the curse that tainted his bloodline, the evil twin, the abomination. The thing that should have
never
existed.
At least, that’s what they told me.
What
he
told himself.
But Kane had always been a fool.
He thought he was better than me, stronger than me,
purer
than me.
But what he refused to see—what he could
never
accept—was that we were the same.
Two halves of a whole.
He could fight it all he wanted. Could pretend he was the noble Alpha, the protector of his pack, the loving mate.
But at the end of the day?
He had
my
darkness inside him.
He had always
needed
me.
Because without me?
He was nothing.
And I think, somewhere in the back of his mind, he
knew
that.
That’s why he never truly pushed me away.
No matter how much he hated me, no matter how many times he cursed my name, no matter how many bodies piled up between us, Kane could never
erase
me.
I was the shadow he could never outrun.
And when the darkness finally came for him—when it wrapped around his soul and whispered in his ear—I was the only one who understood.
Because I had
always
been there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Knowing, sooner or later, he would finally break.
It had started subtly.
The small cracks in Kane’s carefully built facade.
He liked to pretend he had control, that he had mastered himself. But I saw the way his hands clenched too tightly during training, the way his eyes lingered too long on a fresh wound, the way his breath hitched at the scent of blood.
He wanted to tell himself he was different from me.
That he was stronger.
That he would
never
let the darkness win.
But then came Laura.
His first taste of control.
His first taste of
power
.
The first time he let himself indulge in that darker side of him—the side I had always known was there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be freed.
I didn’t push him into it.
I didn’t
need
to.
It was already in him.
That hunger.
That
need
.
The need to break something. To claim something. To
own
something.
And I watched, from the shadows, as he explored that need.
It started with little things.
A slap here. A whispered command there. Laura fell to her knees at his feet, eager to obey, eager to please. And Kane—oh, sweet, naive Kane—thought he had it all under control.
Until he didn’t.
Until one day, he called me.
I found him in his private chamber, standing over Laura’s trembling form. His hands were shaking, his pupils blown wide, his breathing ragged.
He had
hurt
her.
Not in the way she had wanted.
Not in the way she had begged for.
No, this had been something
else
.
Something raw.
Something
ugly
.
And he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
The darkness had taken hold of him, had wrapped around him like a vice, and he had lost control.
I had seen it coming.
I had
felt
it coming.
Because he had started blocking me from our bond, refusing to let me take his darkness, refusing to let me be his filter.
And now, he was paying the price.
I could see it in his eyes—the horror, the
guilt
.
And I knew what had to be done.
So I did what I always did.
I absorbed it.
Took his sins into myself, let the darkness sink into my bones, let it
consume
me instead.
And just like that, Kane was himself again.
Just like that, he was the noble Alpha again, the protector, the man his pack needed him to be.
And I... I became the monster once more.
After that, I
knew
.
I couldn’t stop absorbing it.
Because if I didn’t, Kane would lose himself.
He would fall into the abyss.
And no one—not even me—would be able to pull him back out.
So I took it all.
Every violent impulse.
Every dark craving.
Every twisted thought.
And I buried them deep inside myself.
But the thing about darkness?
It doesn’t just disappear.
It festers.
It
grows
.
And with every ounce of Kane’s sin I absorbed, the harder it became to control.
The hungrier I became.
So I did what I had to do.
I fed.
I sought out the rogues—the filth of the supernatural world—and I drank them dry.
I let their blood stain my hands, let their screams echo in my ears, let their suffering become my release.
Because I had to.
Because if I didn’t, the darkness would consume me, just as it had almost consumed Kane.
But I made a mistake.
I let them see my face.
I let them
know
who I was.
And when they realized that I shared Kane’s face, that I carried his scent, that I was of
his
pack...
They took their revenge.
They came in the dead of night, their fangs bared, their claws drenched in blood.
They tore through the pack like beasts, like rabid animals, like the monsters they had always been accused of being.
And when the night ended, Kane’s parents lay dead.
Slaughtered.
Ripped apart.
And Kane...
Kane blamed
me
.
Because of course he did.
Because it was easier than blaming himself.
Easier than accepting that he had
made
me this way.
That every dark impulse he had ever buried, every wicked thought he had ever suppressed, every ounce of
sin
he had ever refused to acknowledge—he had given it all to
me
.
And I had carried it willingly.
For him.
For
us
.
But it was never enough.
I was never
enough
.
And so he cast me out.
Told me I was a mistake.
Told me I should have
never existed
.
Told me that if he ever saw me again, he would kill me.
And maybe... maybe part of me wished he had.
Because living without him?
Without the bond that had once made us whole?
It was worse than death.
It was hell.
But here’s the thing about hell.
Once you’ve been there long enough...
You stop fearing the flames.
And now?
Now the darkness
is
me.
I don’t fight it anymore.
I don’t hide from it.
I let it in.
Let it
consume
me.
Because I finally understand.
I was never the monster Kane feared.
I was the monster he
created
.
And one day, he’ll have to face the truth.
One day, he’ll have to
pay
for what he did.
And when that day comes...
I’ll be waiting.
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