Chapter 4: Echoes of Shame

A long sigh of relief escaped me. My shoulders slumped, exhaustion setting in.

I sank back against the pillows, my body finally relaxing. I was so tired.

But a second later, I shot upright, alarm jolting me awake.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I snatched it up, and my heart almost stopped when I heard my own voice, played back in Sebastian's low, mocking tone. Mortification hit me like a punch.

"Sebastian, you're really good-looking." Embarrassment flooded me.

The words echoed through the quiet room, making my cheeks burn. I remembered saying them, but hearing them out loud was something else. Shame prickled at my skin.

"Can I bite you?" I couldn't believe I'd actually said that.

My voice—breathless, needy—sent a shiver down my spine. I slapped a hand over my mouth, mortified. Panic rose up in me.

"More." Shame washed over me, hot and heavy.

The recording ended, but the embarrassment stuck like glue. I wanted to crawl under the covers and never come out. God, please let this be a nightmare.

Shameless words echoed from outside the door, and memories of that night crashed over me. Dread twisted my stomach.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the images wouldn't fade. I could still feel his hands on me, his mouth on my skin. Shame burned in my veins.

I jumped out of bed, yanked open the door, and dragged him inside, urgency pulsing through me.

He stumbled in, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. I glared at him, but he just leaned against my desk, phone in hand. I wanted to smack that look off his face.

His smirk was infuriating, but I couldn't look away. Frustration simmered inside me.

"So you weren't asleep after all?" Accusation laced his words.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to answer. I crossed my arms, refusing to give him the satisfaction. No way was I letting him win this round.

"You're such a creep. Why did you record it?" Anger snapped in my voice.

I tried to sound furious, but my voice shook. He just shrugged, totally unbothered. God, he was infuriating.

"Obviously, I was worried you'd pretend it never happened." Accusation clear in his tone.

His voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp as knives. He knew exactly how to get under my skin. I wanted to scream.

"Delete it. Now." Desperation bled into my words.

I stepped closer, hand outstretched. He didn't budge. The tension crackled between us.

He straightened, stepping even closer. I could feel the anticipation humming in the air.

The space between us vanished. The heat radiating off his skin made my breath catch. I was nervous, but I refused to back down.

"That's my... my voice." Embarrassment made my words falter.

The words came out in a whisper. I hated how weak and small I sounded. Shame gnawed at me.

"Oh?" Sebastian pinned me between himself and the wall. "But you did that to me. You do things but don't dare admit it—is that what Mom and Dad taught you? Hm?" Anger flared in my chest.

His voice was low and dangerous. I shivered, but I couldn't look away. Fear prickled over my skin.

"I didn't." I dropped my gaze, shame burning in my cheeks.

I stared at the floor, ashamed and defeated. My hands shook at my sides, helpless.

He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I braced myself, fighting the urge to pull away.

His touch was gentle, but his grip was iron. I swallowed hard, panic fluttering in my chest. I felt trapped.

"Then, Autumn, tell me—who am I right now?" Hesitation tangled my thoughts.

His hoarse voice dripped with temptation. I was torn, wanting and afraid all at once.

The question hung heavy between us. My mind raced, desperate for the right answer. I wanted to disappear.

I swallowed hard. After wrestling with myself, reason finally won out. Regret stabbed at me.

I closed my eyes, took a shaky breath, and forced myself to speak. Resignation settled over me.

"Sebastian, you're my brother." The words hurt more than I expected. Pain lanced through me.

The words tasted like ashes. I barely recognized my own voice. Regret twisted inside me.

His gaze darkened, shadows flickering in his eyes. Fear crept up my spine.

His eyes flashed with something unreadable. The air between us was electric. I was nervous, almost trembling.

"Don't..." I whispered, pressing back against the wall. "Don't do this, Sebastian." Desperation colored my words.

My voice was barely more than a breath. I pressed my back against the wall, desperate for space. Panic clawed at my chest.

But he ignored me and bit my shoulder, hard. Shock ripped through me.

The pain was sharp, unexpected. I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. Hurt and confusion battled inside me.

I clenched my fists, pain radiating up my arms, tears streaming down my face and onto his neck. Anger simmered beneath the hurt.

I couldn't stop sobbing, couldn't hide how much it hurt. My tears soaked his skin, but he didn't move. Despair welled up in me.

He finally stopped, looking up at me, his eyes dark and stormy. Fear twisted in my gut.

He searched my face, expression unreadable. For a second, I thought he might apologize—but he didn't. Disappointment ached in my chest.

After a moment, he wiped away my tears, straightened my clothes, and left without a word. I felt hollow, empty.

The silence he left behind was crushing. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees, and cried until I had nothing left. Broken and alone.

When Sebastian first came to our house, I loved having him as a brother. Nostalgia tugged at my heart.

He was new and exciting, a puzzle I wanted to solve. I trailed after him everywhere, desperate for his attention. I missed those days.

He was handsome, with delicate features and skin so pale he looked almost too perfect. Like something out of a magazine, not our messy family.

He looked like he belonged in a magazine, not in our chaos. I was proud to call him my brother, even if he barely noticed me. Wistfulness lingered.