I was still shaking with raw adrenaline. It left me feeling sick to my stomach, but I had nothing in it to expel. Itachi was seated beside me, acting as my rock to lean against. Quite literally, as I leaned my head against his shoulder. My leg tapped against the floor in relentless bouncing until Itachi reached down, resting his warm hand on my knee and stilling me. I sighed against him, the comforting scent of mint and soap drawing me to close my eyes and sag against Itachi. "Do you…think she'll be all right?" I asked, struggling to word all my fears in a single question. There had been so much blood…on the floor, on Amaya, on Sasuke, it was hard to believe anyone could bleed so much. She'd hardly been conscious, and seeing Sasuke holding her limp body… I grit my teeth to block a choked sound. He had looked almost as bad as I'd felt, covered in her blood and looking terrified.

Itachi's fingers stroked up my back. "I assure you, we have access to the best medicine there is. She should be feeling better within days," Itachi soothed. "She's in good hands."

I took Itachi's hand in mine, and he gave it a careful squeeze. I wanted nothing more than to be there with her, I'd wanted to tear her from Sasuke and scream at them all to leave us alone, but I couldn't deny…Itachi was right. Sasuke had done everything he could to calm my sister and take care of her wounds, those awful lash marks. I'd wanted to shout at him for letting this happen, but how could I, when he'd looked so horrified and ill, himself? He'd held her so close, as if he were afraid to let her go. It made me as sick as much it relieved me. What if something like that happened again? What if someone came after me, next? Were Amaya and I destined to die in this stupid fucking house?

"Alex, look at me. You're breathing too fast," Itachi's comforting voice broke into my bubble of panic, and his hand on my face made me open my eyes and realize I was on the verge of a panic attack. Itachi's eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "You're going to be okay, just like your sister. I will never allow any harm to befall you, and Sasuke is going to take care of Amaya. I promise."

I sucked in a wet breath. "She's all I have," I whispered, the heaviness of it sinking in and yet managing to take a weight off my shoulders all at once. "We promised to take care of each other."

Itachi's thumb stroked against my cheek, and I couldn't help but to lean into it, raising my own hand to cover his. With nothing but a soft touch, Itachi could soothe me. "When I took you into my house, I promised to take of you, as well," Itachi stated. "Sasuke is with your sister now, and he's going to take care of her and ensure she gets better. I promise, you're both safe."

I wasn't sure what was worse, that he made me such a bold promise, or that I believed it. Itachi had done nothing but keep his promises to keep me safe, to make me happy, and I could do nothing but trust his word. Itachi was the reason I was as comfortable and content as I was, as I'd been in years. Itachi was the one who could make me smile no matter what, who could make me laugh, who could indulge in my ardent analyses of books, and who made me feel like I finally had a home. A home that wasn't a house, but a person. I pulled back to look at him, a vague smile on my lips. His eyes lowered from mine and towards my mouth, where they lingered for a moment of hesitation. I couldn't bring myself to move as time slowed to a crawl. My heartbeat roared in my ears, deafening me to everything else. Was that what it was supposed to feel like, like I was about to tip over the edge of the world?

Itachi leaned forward right when I was almost too anxious to stay still a second longer. I made a startled sound against Itachi's lips when he kissed me, but I didn't pull away. Perhaps I should have, but I never wanted to. I hugged both arms around Itachi's shoulders and allowed myself to pull him closer. He shifted, turning sideways so that he could pull me against his chest. The kiss never left the zone of remaining chaste; it was sweet, gentle, and when we broke apart I found myself leaning after Itachi as he pulled back, disappointed at the loss. I opened my eyes, unaware as to when they'd closed.

Itachi's face was warmed with a faint pink flush, and I smirked at the sight. It was, for lack of a better word, pretty. Itachi's lips tilted up with amusement as well, and I shuddered as his hand cupped my face. I leaned against his palm, tilting my head enough to expose my neck. It was a brazen expression of trust, to expose your throat to any vampire, and I was well aware. I listened as Itachi sucked in a sharp breath, unable to quell the smugness in me when he growled low in his throat in pleasure. He leaned down, his lips grazing against my neck before I felt the coolness of his teeth. I arched forward, as encouraging as I could be when my voice refused to cooperate. His mouth was voracious against my skin, sucking hickeys onto my throat and nipping at the expanse of flesh.

Reluctantly, Itachi drew away, and a frustrated whine bubbled up my throat. Itachi was breathing almost as hard as I was, but he looked hardly put out, while I was sure I looked a mess. I could feel how flushed and red I was. "Alex," Itachi started, his voice husky with lust. I shuddered and, embarrassingly, realized I was starting to sport a tent in my jeans. If Itachi could do so much while only kissing my neck, I was starving to see what else he would manage. "I don't want to force a bond onto you. If we do this…are you sure you can handle it?"

The question was far too heavy for someone with such a hazy, addled mind. I nodded nonetheless, frantic to continue what we were doing, for Itachi to just touch me. I was certain I could handle anything and everything the bond could possibly entail—anything that involved Itachi, I knew I'd be happy. "Yes, please," I murmured, struggling to even find coherency. Itachi chuckled at my inability, but before I could be petulant about it, he was leaning forward again.

A part of me roiled in anxiety. Was I doing the right thing, allowing Itachi to brand me? To bond with me? My sister bore the mark, and she acted like it hurt at times, yet it didn't appear to make her any different. If Itachi and I sealed this, would he receive backlash from his family, would they force me to leave? How could I leave when I already felt so attached, much less if a bond established? My lust was clouding my anxiety, but it was still lingering, until Itachi leaned against me.

His mouth covered mine, and any doubt I had was blanketed when his hands slid beneath my shirt.

If I could spend my entire existence huddled beneath the blanket, it wouldn't be enough. I clutched it tighter, my knuckles white with tension, as if I could use the flimsy cloth as a shield. A blanket didn't protect against monsters, though. Not really. It only provided your brain with a false sense of security, and that was what had gotten me in such a wreck in the first place. I'd allowed myself to sink into comfort and believe I was safe, and look at where it'd gotten me.

I'd known better. I'd known Sasuke's father was a dangerous man, from the moment I'd first met him I could see it in his eyes. Sasuke couldn't protect me from him—Fugaku had already proved that nothing stood between him and what he wanted. Sasuke could shout and pry all he wanted, I wasn't going to tell him. How could I? It was his own father, who would he trust, who would he stand up for? Fugaku was right. I was nothing to Sasuke, and soon, I'd be gone. I was a passing phase.

A choked sob scratched at my throat. It was my fault, it was all my fault and now I'd jeopardized the only place I'd had that I could even consider calling home in months. What if they sent me away, would they send my brother? Would they separate us? I curled tighter in my blanket, the muscles in my back twinging in protest. The blanket carried Sasuke's scent, and as I inhaled the familiar sharp, cinnamon smell, the swollen pressure in my limbs began to relax. The tears still dripping from my eyes began to slow and the dampness on my cheeks left a chill on my skin. Sasuke had looked so worried, I'd never seen him look that way before; that panicked, horrified look in his eyes still sent a shudder down my back. Sasuke's eyes were as dark as his father's, but they were so, so different, different in ways that I could never explain. Sasuke's were always brimming with emotion, he was never existing in a middle road, it was always with intensity. Whether his eyes were hard with rage or glimmering with mischief, I saw a person inside him.

I didn't see that with Fugaku. I knew, then, why I'd felt so sick upon meeting him. He had the same eyes as the people in the laboratory, from all those years ago. Eyes that lacked empathy, that looked down on children as if they were nothing but stock, a weapon, or a result. Fugaku had a snake's eyes, and I was more familiar with snakes than I ever wanted to be.

From behind me (or somewhere, it was hard gauging direction from beneath a blanket) the door clicked open and slammed shut, and I jolted at the loud noise. My breathing picked up as the grips of a panic attack began to latch onto me, but that same, familiar scent reached me, and a deep voice rushed to hush me before I could lapse into true terror. My blanket got pulled off, leaving me feeling bare and vulnerable, not to mention blinded by the sudden brightness of the light. Sasuke was kneeling above me when I blinked up at him, strands of my hair obscuring my vision some. Seeing the small smile that relieved some of the tension in his face made a weak grin tug at my own lips. How a person could ease my heart with nothing but a smile would always be beyond me.

"Come here," Sasuke sighed, coaxing me up. His wary expression wasn't exactly reassuring, but his hand on my shoulder steadied me as I sat up. "Amaya, I know who did this to you."

My breath caught in my throat and my eyes widened as I started to recoil away from his touch, but Sasuke only tightened his grip. "Don't," he told me, his eyes hard with determination. "You don't have to be afraid, he's never going to put his hands on you again. I'm sorry I let him get to you once." He knelt closer to me and pressed his lips to my forehead. I was frozen in the moment, too stuck in my own shock and lingering horror, but the feathery touch snapped me out of it. My hands clung to his shirt and, slowly, he shifted us so that he could sit on the floor and draw me to sit against him. He was like a wall surrounding me; a strong, inextricable wall. I'd never felt safer.

"He was angry because I disobeyed him," I murmured, my voice thick. "I was in your bed, I shouldn't have been—"

"He wanted an excuse," Sasuke cut in, his tone sharp. My ears pressed against my hair, going from pointed to flat in half a second. I didn't want to argue, but…it had been my fault. I hadn't wanted to get Sasuke into any sort of trouble with his father, and now I feared that was all I'd done. "If I'd only listened to him, this wouldn't have happened," I muttered, but I hardly got the chance to finish my sentence before Sasuke's mouth sealed over mine, the second time in as many days.

The first one hadn't been a mistake.

I allowed myself to sink into Sasuke's embrace, the warm flutter in my chest nothing compared to the heat on my face. When Sasuke pulled away, it wasn't far. "He can't tell you what to do, and he won't," he said, his voice a low grumble in his chest. "What happened tonight was in no way your fault. It was his, and the day he touches you again will be his last."

I swallowed after hearing the cryptic, cold promise, and it felt like I was trying to choke down dust. Sasuke had spoken it with such conviction that I found it hard to doubt, and I wasn't sure if I felt relief or worry. Fugaku was Sasuke's father, hearing him speak so callously about him...it was jarring. What had happened to make Sasuke hate his own parent so much?

Reaching up, I carded my fingers through Sasuke's hair to push it from his face. His eyed widened some, appearing taken aback. "Don't put yourself in danger," I murmured, concerned by the thought of Fugaku ever (or having ever) hurt Sasuke. I may not remember much of what it was like to have parents, or what that relationship should look like, but I believed Mikoto was a shining example, and Fugaku was a walking example of a failure.

Sasuke took a sharp inhale as he stared at me for a moment, and I blinked sleepily, the exhaustion having seeped into my bones finally. Eventually, Sasuke closed his eyes, exhaling and sagging. "We need to get you to bed, you need to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning," he said, and I was reminded that my back was a bit of a disaster. The medicine had numbed it so much I'd almost forgotten. I worried then that it might wear off at some point in the night, but my eyes were already slipping shut, my fatigue outweighing my anxiety. That was quite a feat, considering my anxiety was like a shrieking banshee waving a burning axe at all times.

Leaning up, I pressed a kiss to Sasuke's forehead, a gentle press of my lips before I slipped down and let my head rest against his chest. The bed was a step or two away, but that was too far, and I was too comfortable right where I was. Distantly, I felt a hand on my back and a light pressure on the top of my head. Through the oncoming haze of slumber, Sasuke's voice rumbled vaguely.

"What am I going to do with you?"

I stared at the collapsed woman in my arms, her lax expression softening into contentment as she huddled closer. The towel and blanket were still tangled up around her, but I couldn't leave her like that to freeze in the night. Of course, that confronted me with the realization that I'd neglected getting her most of what she needed. She'd borrowed a couple of things that my mother no longer wore, but that wasn't going to suit her forever. Faced with my own irresponsibility, I resigned myself to having to take a shopping trip sometime in the near future. Tomorrow would be best, if she was feeling up to it. The wounds were ugly and vicious, but our medicine was strong in both healing quality and pain management. With the bandages, she should be well enough for a few hours out. It might do her good, to get out of this place for a while. I wouldn't be keen on staying, myself.

With a heavy sigh, I set about untangling Amaya from the cocoon of cloth she was wrapped up in. It took a few minutes and more than a few choice words before I got us both up, abandoning the mess on the floor for fear it'd clutch at us again. Setting her on the bed, I was careful to set her on her side. The bandages were tight around her torso, providing her with some modesty, at least. I found an older shirt that wasn't an uncomfortable formal one and would hopefully present her some more comfort. A part of me was impressed with how heavily she was out, not even twitching when I dressed her in the shirt and slid her beneath the sheets; another part was somewhat unnerved.

I was hesitant to leave her, even for only a few minutes to see my brother. My reluctance felt justified, however frustrating. What if she woke up and panicked when she found herself alone?

I was standing halfway between the bed and the door in indecision when a knock came from the door. A fond smirk took over my previous scowl, trust Itachi to have impeccable timing. As I got to the door to find him leaning against the opposite wall, something about him screamed "off" to me, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. He was put together, nothing out of place but the glaze in his eyes that I only attributed to wariness. "Will you two be needing anything?" Itachi asked, and, not for the first time, I wondered if my brother could somehow perceive my thoughts.

Shaking off my suspicions, I gave him a nod. "I haven't gotten her proper clothes yet, and with one of her few outfits shredded, we need to pick some up." I'd been unfair, leaving her without basic things of her own. I was trying to better the rocky understanding between us, but it was still lagging.

Itachi didn't comment on my negligence, to my relief. He only cocked his head in agreement. "I'll give you a ride tomorrow, if she's up to it. I'm sure she's resting, now?"

"Hopefully through the night," I responded, rubbing the back of my neck. "Will Alex be going?" I assumed Itachi had already seen to the younger ibrida's needs, but I assumed Alex would want to come with. The image of the stricken, panicked teenager still made me sick. The things he'd screamed at me were still stuck with me, too, and I couldn't blame him for any of it. I was the one who had to protect his sister, and I'd failed him. Had the roles been reversed, Itachi would have killed anyone who'd allowed harm to come to me. Alex had every right to his rage.

To my surprise and slight discomfort, Itachi's lips twitched up in a vague smirk before he schooled his expression into neutrality once more. "I'm afraid not," Itachi explained, the epitome of calm, "Alex is…confined to the bed, for the time being."

I slammed the door in my brother's face. Of all the things I'd never asked to know. Of all the dangerous, reckless choices he could have made. What was he going to do when our family learned he'd taken a mate—and it was far from any of the choices they had lined up for him?

My head spun with all the vindictive violence of a tornado. I would defend my brother to the grave, and now, by extension, Alex as well. My brother had made his choice, and I knew he would never allow anyone to attempt changing it.

Head still spinning, I crept into bed with all the grace of a palsied cat, too drained and stressed to bother with being careful. Amaya wouldn't awaken for anything less than an atomic bomb by that point, I was sure. Settling down, I let myself close my eyes, lulled into relaxing by the steady sound of Amaya breathing beside me. She was like an anchor reeling me away from the deep, roiling chaos I was so wont to feeling lost in. Absently, I reached out and grazed the backs of my knuckles against her back.

I was as big a fool as my brother.