Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

I saw how worried she was.

III take care of Blaine. Don't worry about it. I'm already putting things in place." I crossed back to her and

brushed a thumb across

her cheek.

"Soon," I promised, "he won't be a problem anymore."

Her shoulders sagged just a little, but she nodded.

"Don't forget, baby..." I saids I backed toward the door. "Stay in the house, okay?"

As soon as I stepped into the hospital, the first person I went to see was the doctor. He told me that there

was no improvement in Norlan's condition yet."

That was all he said. He didn't sound hopeful or anything.

No encouragement? No "we're trying this, or there's still hope"?

Just that?

And I was meant to hold onto it?

Fuck.

When I reached Norlan's room, I paused outside the door. My hand hovered over the handle.

His mother was here.

She was sitting by his bedside with her fingers wrapped around his limp hand, her head bowed, as she cried quietly.

I felt guilty. This was all my fault. What the hell would I tell Freya?

I pushed the door open as gently as I could, and Freya immediately turned to see who it was.

"My Norlan..." she whispered, stumbling toward me, "I don't want to lose him, Kester..." My presence se

She wrapped her arms around my waist, sobbing into my chest.

Mrs. Freya still looked really young despite her age. One would think she was only in her mid-thirties.

! to intensify her grief.

I held her tightly, placing one hand at the small of her back, with the other cradling the back of her head as I whispered into her hair.

"Norlan will be fine," I said, forcing my voice not to shake. "He's a fighter, Freya. He'll come back to us."

Nhad to believe that, even if a voice at the back of my mind told me otherwise. Because right now, she needed something. And I had nothing else to give.

I stepped closer to Norlan's bed, and the sight of him hit me really hard.

Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

I saw how worried she was.

I'll take care of Blaine. Don't worry about it. I'm already putting things in place." I crossed back to her and brushed a thumb across

her cheek.

"Soon," I promised, "he won't be a problem anymore."

Her shoulders sagged just a little, but she nodded.

"Don't forget, baby..." I said as I backed toward the door. "Stay in the house, okay?"

As soon as I stepped into the hospital, the first person I went to see was the doctor. He told me that there

was no improvement in Norlan's condition yet."

That was all he said. He didn't sound hopeful or anything.

No encouragement? No "we're trying this, or there's still hope"?

Just that?

And I was meant to hold onto it?

Fuck.noveldrama

When I reached Norlan's room, I paused outside the door. My hand hovered over the handle.

His mother was here.

She was sitting by his bedside with her fingers wrapped around his limp hand, her head bowed, as she cried quietly.

I felt guilty. This was all my fault. What the hell would I tell Freya?

I pushed the door open as gently as I could, and Freya immediately turned to see who it was.

"My Norlan..." she whispered, stumbling toward me, "I don't want to lose him, Kester..."My presence seemed to intensify her grief.

She wrapped her arms around my waist, sobbing into my chest.

Mrs. Freya still looked really young despite her age. One would think she was only in her mid-thirties.

I held her tightly, placing one hand at the small of her back, with the other cradling the back of her head as I whispered into her

hair.

"Norlan will be fine," I said, forcing my voice not to shake. "He's a fighter, Freya. He'll come back to us."

I had to believe that, even if a voice at the back of my mind told me otherwise. Because right now, she needed something. And I had nothing else to give.

I stepped closer to Norlan's bed, and the sight of him hit me really hard.

There were tubes, wires, and inachines.

His skin was already pale, and Tris lips looked almost blue.

He didn't look like my Norlan.

My throat clenched, and tears stung the sides of my eyes. But I blinked them away quickly. Freya didn't need to see that. She was barely holding on as it was.

I rubbed my hands down my face and forced myself to breathe through the thick wave of helplessness.

For the next two hours, we didn't

speak. We just sat there, our eyes flicking from the monitors to his face over and over again, like if we watched long enough, something

would change... Maybe we'd see his fingers twitch or his eyes flutter

open.

My phone rang, shattering the solitude.

I glanced at the screen, and my heart jumped into my throat when I saw Kasmine's name displayed on the

screen.

Shit.

I stood quickly, muttering an apology to Freya, and slipped out into the hallway.

I answered the call before the second ring. "Baby, what's wrong?"

I swear, her voice sounded like a storm.

you

"Was this what you meant when said you'd take care of Blaine?!" she yelled, and her voice broke with fury and disbelief. "I thought you bad changed, Kester! I trusted you!"

"What?" I froze mid-step, trying to process her words, "Kasmine, what are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" she snapped bitterly. "Blaine is dead, Kester! Dead! Along with

twelve others! The entire opposition meeting was

bombed!"

I stopped breathing.

No.

No fucking way.

My world tilted, and my vision blurred.

"I..." My voice died in my throat. My brain scrambled, trying to make sense of

what she was saying. A bomb? Dead?

That wasn't the plan. That wasn't the fucking plan!

Before I could ask anything else, the line went dead.

She'd hung up.

The hallway felt like it closed in on me.

Blaine is dead...

Twelve others...

I staggered a step back and leaned against the cold wall, staring Maky shot, beg

for weeks gay gestating so se se f hadn't misheard.

What the fuck just happened?

And who the hell had done it... if not mey

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