Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is a oneshot book of our favourite fanon couple.

Strictly Top Jeremy and Bottom Landon

Also, when you request ideas and prompts, please refrain from straight up smut. I'm extremely bad at writing that😅

and don't look for a form! Drop your prompts here in the comment section! 🩷

Once again, I would love to see your ideas and challenges and I hope you enjoy what I present.

Thank you!

Chapter Text

Landon shifted in his bed, coming face to face with his boyfriend of five years and fiancé of two.

Jeremy Volkov is still asleep, even as the sun rays peaked through the curtains of their penthouse. The light made Jeremy's tan skin glow a pretty golden, and a sleepy smile grew on Landon's face.

Jeremy had struggled with sleeping before, and it was Landon who regulated his sleeping hours. Whenever they were together, the warmth and comfort of Landon helped Jeremy to sleep better, with cuddles, of course. Landon had no problem with the said matter and instead loved cuddling Jeremy.

That's saying a lot since Landon King never liked physical affection.

Landon brought up his hand and caressed his boyfriend's sleeping face. Jeremy stirred in his sleep, and slowly, his eyes opened.

Jeremy's lips quirked up, yet his eyes remained half-open. "Good morning, kukolka." He said and pressed a kiss to Landon's hand on his face.

"Good morning, my prince." Landon said and traced his thumb over his cheekbones. "Excited for today?" He asked.

Jeremy chuckled. "Of course, my best friend is getting married."

Landon smiled. "Yeah, Bran is over the moon." His face was soft as he spoke.

Today, Nikolai and Brandon were tying the knot. After four years of dating, they are finally getting married. Nikolai is on cloud nine, and his twin is happier than he has ever been.

"Everyone's gonna know," Landon mumbled. In their five years of dating, no one has figured out they were in a relationship. Everyone assumed that the lack of fights were just because of the truce and maturing.

As if.

Landon and Jeremy don't exactly know how they managed to keep it hidden. It's not like they particularly tried hard. Most of them were just dense.

The tension, the heart eyes, the jokes.

It was basically obvious.

And yet.

The only person who knew about them was Bran. His twin had found out when they had visited Mum and Dad, and Landon was on a rather sensual phone call with Jeremy.

Brandon was disgusted, shocked, and absolutely thrilled.

Also, Nikolai might know. They aren't sure, however.

Because Brandon doesn't hide anything from Nikolai, and he has been throwing comments about them, teasing. But again, they can't be sure.

"It's about time." Jeremy said, pressing another kiss to Landon's knuckles. Landon grinned at him.

"Idiots." He snorted. Jeremy followed along.

Well, their union was quite unexpected anyway. Landon still remembers that day very well.

The day that kickstarted the simmering tension between them.

....

Landon was absolutely livid.

How fucking dare they?

Landon glared at the five masked men before him. He was in the middle of a crowd. The rabbit mask clung to his face, and he wanted it off. Earlier, he got a message.

'Congratulations! You are invited to the Heathens initiation ceremony. Please show the attached QR code upon arrival at the club's compound at four pm sharp.'

The utter blasphemy of the text made Landon laugh out loud.

Until the next one arrived.

'You better be there at the Initiation, if you don't want to see your brother in a fucking casket.

Now, that wasn't amusing.

Landon's eyes had darkened and a light panic rose in his chest. He quickly called Brandon, texted him, and even sent a fucking email to that bastard.

No reply.

So, now, here he was.

In a crowd of anticipating losers who has nothing better to do than indulge themselves in a pathetic game of cat and mouse.

Landon's blue eyes locked onto a pair of stormy grey eyes. The orange mask hid his face, but Landon was sure he was smirking under it.

Could it be him?

His eyes flickered to the other Heathens. None of them seemed to be looking for anyone in particular.

So, it could only be one person.

Landon's eyes darkened as it snapped back to Orange Mask. There was a strange glint in his eyes. Anger, amusement, and..possessiveness.

Jeremy fucking Volkov.

The distorted voice finished its little speech that Landon didn't pay attention to and soon, everyone around him ran out like their arses were on fire.

Landon didn't run.

Instead, he sauntered out of the hall like a lazy cat. But his eyes were sharp, and his senses were heightened to catch a glimpse of his twin.

He needed to find Brandon and get out of this cursed territory.

A grunt was forced out of him as his body was slammed against something hard, a tree. He looked up and neon orange glared back at him.

"Look who it is," Volkov's voice was mocking, surely smirking. "My precious little prey."

Landon glared at him and stepped back. "I'm not your fucking prey." He spat.

A low chuckle rumbled in Jeremy's chest. Landon's jaw clenched and he grabbed Jeremy's shirt.

"Where is my brother?" He sneered. Jeremy's eyes were amused as he hummed.

"How could I know?" He feigned innocence, yet his tone dripped with mock. "He could be anywhere. Running, fighting, screaming -"

Jeremy was cut off when Landon punched him square in the face. He stumbled and groaned and took off his mask, smirking.

Landon didn't stop. He punched him again, and blood trickled down Jeremy's jaw.

"Tell me where my brother is, Volkov," Landon scowled. "Or I swear to god, I will cut off your head."

Jeremy raised his eyebrow, amused. "That's not very nice, Kukolka." He smirked. "Also, that mask doesn't make you look threatening."

Landon glared and ripped it off his face. "The fuck did you just call me?" He asked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Kukolka." Jeremy's smirk deepened. "My own custom-made doll."

....

That little nickname had sticked and one thing led to another, and soon, Landon found himself in a happy relationship with his fiancé.

What Landon didn't know that night was that Brandon wasn't there. No, he would only attend the Initiation the year after, for the same exact reason.

Funny how the twins had the same start to their relationships.

Landon chuckled at the thought.

Brandon raised an eyebrow at his twin. "What's so funny?" He asked. Landon glanced at him and shook his head.

"Nothing," Landon let out a breath. "I can't believe you actually married that prick."

"Hey!" Brandon's eyes narrowed. "You're one to talk." He smirked.

"Oh, shut up." Landon grinned back.

The ceremony was over. Nikolai and Brandon are officially wedded husbands now. The wedding band glinted on Brandon's finger. Landon glanced at the engagement ring and wedding band on Nikolai's finger, but the man was gesturing with it in excitement to properly look at it.

"Can he get any more obsessed?" Landon asked with an exasperated sigh as he heard the topic of Nikolai's conversation.

"Shut up, or I'm going to make your wedding insufferable." Brandon threatened with no heat.

"Oh please," Landon snorted, throwing an arm around him. "You're too good for that." He pressed a smooch to Brandon's cheek.

"How cute." A deep voice sounded. The twins looked at the newcomer. Jeremy stood before them with Vaughn, Killian, and Gareth next to him.

"Stop eating off his ears!" Killain pulled Nikolai away from Creighton. The latter chuckled when Nikolai slapped Killian's hand. Eli and Remington joined them after having a chat with Aunt Silver.

"What's going on here?" Eli asked. "Planning murder in such an auspicious day?" He smirked.

"I will if someone doesn't gag him." Nikolai pointed at Killian, who threw him a middle finger.

"Nikolai!" Brandon scolded.

"Did I just let my twin marry a serial killer?" Landon gasped, putting a hand to his chest. The ring on his finger sparkled, catching everyone's attention.

Of course, Landon made sure it sparkled extravagantly.

Jeremy chuckled at the confused looks on everyone's faces.

"Didn't take you for the sparkly type." Vaughn muttered. Landon raised an eyebrow at him.

"Excuse me?" Landon snorted. Vaughn pointed at his ring.

"The ring." He deadpanned. "Quite eye-catching."

Landon glanced at Jeremy and smirked. "Someone gave it to me." Landon said.

"Who?" Creighton asked.

"Why don't you ask your soon to be brother in law, Creigh?" Brandon chuckled. Landon smirked as Jeremy feigned innocence.

"Jer, why is that ring on his ring finger?" Nikolai asked with wide eyes. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at him.

"I thought you knew." Jeremy said.

"Knew what?" Nikolai's eyes narrowed.

"About us." He gestured between him and Landon. The others watched and tried to piece everything together.

"What about you both?" Killian asked, eyes wide.

"So fucking dense." Landon rolled his eyes and pulled Jeremy into a kiss, cupping his face. Audible gasps sounded around them, and Landon smirked into the kiss. Jeremy's lips pulled into a smile as he held Landon's waist.

"Oh my fucking god!" A feminine squeal neared them and Landon caught a glimpse of pink from the corner of his eyes.

"I called it!" Ava grabbed Cecily by her shoulders. "I told you!" She shook her as Cecily tried to pry her off.

"No fucking way." Annika stumbled into Creighton's waiting arms. Eli sputtered as Gareth hid a smirk.

Oh, he definitely called it.

Nikolai leaned on Brandon for support, and Glyndon fanned herself.

Landon pulled away from the kiss and smirked at them. Jeremy's face was one of amusement as he looked at their reactions.

"What the absolute fuck!?"

Levi King's outraged voice boomed across the hall.

Chapter Text

Jeremy has been glaring at his phone for the past twenty minutes.

Why?

Oh, you know, because his migraine of a boyfriend hasn't replied to any of his calls or texts for the past two hours.

He was currently at the fight club, ready to watch Killian and Landon knock each other out. As much as Jeremy hated to see Landon hurt, his stubborn ass made Jeremy choose between letting Landon fight or shutting down the damn club.

Jeremy would've shut down the club in a heartbeat if his friends didn't have a say in that matter.

They did.

So, Landon was free to fight.

But, now, it seems that Landon apparently vanished from the earth's surface because he isn't texting Jeremy back.

"I'm gonna mess up his pretty face!"

"Knock his teeth out!"

"Oh, you bet I will."

Killian and Nikolai went back and forth, planning Landon's demise. Of course, none of them knew that Landon and Jeremy were dating.

Gareth was off to the side of the locker room on his phone. Usually, the two of them would force Jeremy to join their little peptalk, but they saw how tense and annoyed Jeremy was.

If only the little brat would text him back.

Jeremy had tracked Landon's location, and it showed that he was at the mansion. It took every fibre in Jeremy's being to not just barge into the mansion.

Suddenly, the door to their locker room opened, and the Elites walked in. Jeremy's eyes scanned them, and a muscle ticked in his jaw when he couldn't see the leader of the lot.

"Where the fuck is Landon?" Jeremy found himself asking before he could think. All of their eyes snapped towards his tense form on the couch.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Eli asked, amused. Jeremy rolled his eyes and stood up to his full height.

"I asked a question, King." He glared. Gareth cut his call and slowly moved towards an angry Jeremy.

"He can't make it." Remington shrugged next to Eli. "You're up against my spawn." He smirked at Killian, patting Creighton's back.

"Oh, you better be joking." Killian groaned. "I was prepared for a fucking blast!"

"They went against each other last week!" Nikolai said, throwing his arms around, hitting Killian's shoulder in the process. Killian kicked his feet as revenge with a scowl.

"Scared I'll beat your asses up?" Creighton smirked. Nikolai opened his mouth to retort, but Jeremy cut in.

"Why can't Landon make it?" He asked. He didn't care for the banter going on around him. He was worried about his Kukolka.

Eli's eyes narrowed as he watched his face. "He is sick," he supplied.

"Sick?" Jeremy echoed. He was fine last night when Jeremy fucked him senseless as distraction from his work.

"Yeah." Eli nodded. "Overworked himself."

That brat.

"He overworked himself?" Nikolai tsked. "He is capable of that?"

"Yes." Eli shot him a glare. "He has been working for his upcoming project all week."

Creighton nodded. "The stubborn idiot didn't even properly eat or drink, and now he can barely walk."

"Not to mention, he is still working." Remington sighed. "Pretty sure if he stands up, he is gonna fall flat on his face."

Jeremy was fuming. His Kukolka was sick. And these idiots were here instead of taking care of him. Damn him and his stubbornness.

"And you didn't do anything?" Jeremy asked. His fists were clenched from anger, and he felt worry clawing at his gut.

"We dragged him to bed and knocked him out. He slept for three hours, got back up, and went back to sculpting." Creighton summarised.

"He did sleep well last night, though." Remington added with a furrow in his eyebrow. Jeremy resisted a small smirk.

"Yikes." Killian snorted. "Does he think he is immune to sickness?"

"Seems so." Eli said, a strange glint in his eyes as he looked Killian up and down. "He is not gonna rest until his work is over."

"Aren't his professors gonna kneel at his feet even if he gave them a block of clay?" Gareth asked, eyes furrowed.

"Sure." Creighton smirked. "But Landon is never easy on himself."

That's it.

Jeremy's feet began to move before he could register it. He needed to get his boyfriend to bed and rest, or else that idiot might kill himself from exhaustion.

Jeremy shrugged on his jacket, ignoring Nikolai's calls, and went out of the club. His feet took him to his bike, and he got on.

Jeremy's mind raced with worry for his boyfriend's health as he raced down the streets, the Elites mansion as his target.

Landon is in for a surprise.

The gates of the mansion opened as Jeremy's bike rode in. He parked it on the side of the path and got off. Pocketing his keys, Jeremy strode towards the door.

His hand reached up to ring the bell, and he waited. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor, his dark eyes fixated on the door.

The door opened to reveal blue eyes.

Not his.

Jeremy tsked at the sight of Brandon King. His boyfriend's twin's face morphed into confusion as he stared at him. Jeremy looked past him to catch a glimpse of his Kukolka.

"Jeremy?" Brandon's voice was unsure. "Aren't you supposed to be at the fight club?" He asked. Jeremy turned his eyes to him.

"Where is Landon?" He asked instead. Brandon's eyebrows raised.

"He is busy." He replied. "But I'll have you know that he is in no condition to fight." Brandon said.

"I didn't come to fight," Jeremy said and moved past him.

"Wait -" He ignored Brandon's protest and walked to the stairs. He took out the spare key of Lan's studio from his pocket. "Where'd you get that?"

Jeremy ignored him again. Landon would kick his ass if he saw how he was treating Brandon, but right now, Jeremy's biggest concern was getting that stubborn bastard to bed.

He stopped in front of Landon's studio and unlocked it. Brandon was right behind him.

"Volkov, please -" Jeremy didn’t wait for him to finish and instead opened the door and walked in. He shut the door behind him and turned around.

The sight made him want to kill himself.

His gorgeous kukolka was sitting on a wooden chair, his hands covered in clay. His face was pale, and his nose was red. His bright blue eyes now looked lifeless and beady. His hand shook slightly as he reached for the cup of coffee on his workstation.

Jeremy took notice of the other empty cups around the room. He also noticed the broken pieces of dried clay on the floor as well.

Landon didn't even notice his presence, entirely focused on the statue he was sculpting. Jeremy's fists clenched as he stared at him. The anger vanished, and a deep worry settled at his stomach. His hair was messy, and he looked so tired. So unlike his Kukolka.

Jeremy walked towards him in long strides. When he was in front of him, Landon looked up. Surprise clouded his eyes, but soon he let out a sneeze, hand reaching for the tissue box.

"What are you doing here?" Landon asked, voice coarse. He wiped his nose, and the clay on his fingers smudged on his face.

"What am I doing?" Jeremy asked, pissed off. "Look at yourself!"

"I'm -" he coughed. "Sculpting."

"Kukolka," Jeremy kneeled in front of him, worry etched on his face. "You're sick."

"I'm fine." Landon said, followed by another cough. Jeremy chose to ignore that comment.

"You only had a scratchy throat last night. How did it get so worse?" He asked.

"It's not that bad." Landon said, wiping his nose with another tissue.

"Did you take any medicines?"

"No, but -"

"Did you eat anything?"

"I drank coffee -"

"Landon!" Jeremy scolded. Landon coiled into himself with wide eyes. Jeremy's hand rested on his knees, his face softening.

"You know I don't like it when you call me by my name," Landon mumbled. Jeremy placed a kiss on his clothed knee.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, looking at him again. "You're not taking care of yourself."

Landon didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at his half-finished statue. Jeremy brought up his hand to check his temperature, and his eyes widened.

"You're burning up, baby." Jeremy stood on his feet. "You need to take rest and eat something." He said.

"I will after I finish this." Landon said. Jeremy managed a glare.

"Listen to me, Kukolka," he began. "You can finish that later. Right now, you need food." Landon shook his head.

"No, Jer, I'm gonna lose my inspiration." He said. But Jeremy wasn't having it.

"You're a genius, baby." He said. "You'll do amazing, no matter what." He gently pulled Landon to stand up.

"You don't understand -" Landon stumbled, and Jeremy caught him. His head spun, and his eyes rolled back.

"Kukolka?" Jeremy grabbed his waist and pulled him closer. "Lan?" He patted his cheek gently.

"Jer," Landon chocked out groggily and then fainted in his arms.

His Kukolka just fainted.

Jeremy panicked and quickly lifted Landon in his arms.

Shit, did he lose weight?

He pressed him closer to his chest and kept his head tucked in his arm.

"Brandon!" He called as he kicked open the door. Brandon was there in an instant, his eyes falling on an unconscious Landon.

"What the hell happened?" Brandon asked, eyes wide and worried.

"He fainted. Medicine and food to his room." Jeremy ordered and moved towards Landon's room. He pushed open the door and carried him towards his bed.

"Stupid, stubborn Kukolka." He muttered, shaking his head as he laid him down. He went to the bathroom and wetted a towel before taking it back to Landon. He gently laid the towel on his forehead, blowing on his neck as well.

"Please, open your eyes, Kukla." Jeremy whispered as he continued to dab the cloth on his forehead. His fever was still high, and there was still a slight shake in his hands.

Landon's chest heaved up and down. Jeremy kept his work up, worried. The sound of footsteps made him look up, and he saw Brandon set down a packet of medicine and a bowl of soup on the side table.

"Please, tell me when he wakes up." He muttered and glanced at Landon. Jeremy nodded, and Brandon walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Brandon figured it out.

"Lan, baby, please open your eyes." Jeremy whispered. Landon needed sleep but not like this. He needed to eat something first.

Slowly, Landon's eyes fluttered open, and he winced at the light. Jeremy immediately grabbed a glass of water and helped him up enough to drink it. Jeremy pressed the rim of the glass against Landon's dry lips, and he slowly drank from it.

He drank the whole cup, and Jeremy set it aside. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," Landon nodded. "Tired." He mumbled.

"Eat something first and then take your medicine." Jeremy said, taking the soup in his hand. Landon stared at it and then back to Jeremy. He managed a weak grin.

"Feed me, boyfie." He mumbled. Jeremy's eyes widened, and his eyebrows raised. A small chuckle fell out of his lips.

Sick Lan was adorable.

"As you wish, baby." Jeremy said and brought the spoonful of thick soup to his lips. Landon obliged and gulped it down.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" He asked. Jeremy chuckled, shaking his head.

"I've had plenty of food, baby," Jeremy said. "You, on the other hand, need to finish this." He said.

Landon nodded, letting him feed him. Jeremy's gaze was fond as he watched Landon. So fucking pretty even when sick.

"Enough," Landon mumbled after a while. The soup was mostly finished. Jeremy decided to leave it for now. He placed the bowl away and grabbed a tablet sheet. He popped one out and gave it to Lan.

"Eat it." He said. Lan popped it into his mouth and drank some water. "Go to sleep, Kukolka." He urged. Landon laid back down.

"Cuddle with me, Jer." Landon patted the space beside him. Jeremy smiled and laid down beside him. Instantly, Landon draped an arm around him and snuggled into his chest. Jeremy rested his chin on Landon's head and held him close.

"I love you so much." He whispered against Landon's head. "Please don't do this again," he mumbled.

"I love you too, Jer." Landon said, sleepy. "I promise, I won't."

Like that, Landon fell asleep, cuddling his boyfriend. Jeremy's arm stayed protectively around Landon, keeping him close. He rubbed his back until he too fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Landon's chest tightened as he stared at his boyfriend's face.

Ex-boyfriend. He reminded himself. Jeremy's chest heaved up and down, his knuckles glistening red. He had punched the wall just a few minutes ago, drawing his own blood.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Landon asked, his voice shaky and small. Jeremy tore his gaze away from Lan's glistening blue eyes. Tears were beginning to form.

"We're over." Jeremy muttered, gruff and dismissive. He tried to move past him, but Landon grabbed his arm, stopping him. He stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Over fucking what?" Landon shouted. "A fake photo?" His face pulled into a scowl despite the tears in his eyes. Jeremy's jaw clenched, and he glared at him.

"You know damn well it's not fake." He growled. "I checked your location. You were there."

"I didn't sleep with him!" Landon yelled, gripping his arm. Jeremy yanked his arm off and sneered at him.

"Don't lie to my fucking face," he spat, gripping Landon's jaw. "Whore." Jeremy's voice dripped with venom.

Landon stilled. His eyes widened, and his lips parted. A lone tear slipped from his eye, and Jeremy realised his mistake.

But it was too late.

"Don't ever show yourself to me again." Landon whispered, his tone vulnerable. Then, his face suddenly turned blank, and he pushed Jeremy's arm off. His vibrant blue eyes went back to its dullness, and he looked almost lifeless.

Again.

"I'd sure hope not." Jeremy gritted out and turned on his heel. Landon watched as he walked off.

"Coward." He whispered and forced himself calm. Landon huffed and choked back his tears and left that cursed alley.

....

"Coward." Jeremy growled as he rubbed his temple. He hated himself for doing that. Hated the way his eyes blanked again. For calling him that. But, how could he not?

After all, Landon broke his trust like it was glass.

He can't get that wretched picture out of his head.

Jeremy was mad at Landon. He had moved to Brighton island last year for high-school or, well, secondary school, as these people called it. That was when he met the bombshell, Landon King.

Something about that narcissistic devil intrigued him. He watched and observed him until King noticed. When Landon did, he began to act to keep Jeremy's attention on him.

Something primal had sparked within Jeremy that time. A need to claim the boy who had managed to keep the whole of highschool on their tippytoes.

And he did.

Jeremy claimed him. Made him his.

But at the same time Landon had also entangled him in his webs.

Jeremy was also claimed by King.

Mind you, they are eighteen now.

In the midst of this lust and passion, love also ignited. Jeremy found himself falling for the chaos-driven King, and Landon, who was believed to be incapable of love, also fell for him.

Hard. Irrevocably. Undeniably.

Until Jeremy went and ruined it.

They had been fighting that day. Something about Jeremy's friends coming to the island. How one of them has a crush on him, etc.

The fight seemed silly now that he thought about it.

Nevertheless, it happened.

Jeremy had locked himself up in his apartment while Landon went out drinking with Eli King.

Jeremy kept checking his location.

An hour passed, and he received a message from an unknown number.

Unknown
He looks way better in my bed.
=photo attached

When Jeremy opened the attachment, his chest clenched. The grip on his phone tightened and fury ignited inside him.

It was a photo of Landon.

His boyfriend. Half naked.

In someone else’s fucking bed.

Jeremy's fingers moved faster than lightening and when Jeremy checked Landon's location, he was exiting an unknown address.

How fucking dare he.

Rage wacked through his body and the phone was flung across the room.

After one fucking fight. Landon went out and did this.

And he was fucking jealous about Maya Sokolov.

Jeremy's body shook with the roaring rage and pain in his body. He couldn't fucking believe it.

His Landon. His kukolka.

He had cheated on him.

Jeremy couldn't take it anymore and he went to confront him.

Jeremy rubbed his face and groaned. His face felt hot and his body still had a tremor.

He lost him.

Landon was completely out of his grasp now.

He mounted his bike, but paused. Should he go back and demand a better explanation? A wet chuckle escaped him at the absurd thought.

Landon would spit in his face if he did.

Maybe, maybe this was for the best.

Perhaps, together, they were too destructive.

Perhaps they were not meant to be.

He knows damn fucking well that's a lie.

Chapter Text

5 years later.

Landon scowled as he walked through a dark alley.

He had finished his classes a bit ago, and when he went to his car, his precious vehicle refused to start. Someone had tampered with it.

His darling McLaren.

Safe to say, Lan was furious.

After getting home, he would find out whoever the fuck had dared to mess with him and then he will hunt them down.

But first, he had to get home.

He thought of calling Bran for a pick-up but he was with that wanker Sokolov, and the last thing Lan wanted was to see his brother half-fucked.

Ew.

Eli was not available, and Creighton didn't pick up his phone. The call didn't go through to Remington, who was probably knocked out drunk or something.

So, his only option? Walk.

Landon grumbled as he took big strides. He had intrustructed the car repair to add extra locks and all to keep away unwanted rats.

No one messed with his belongings.

Landon didn't really have a problem with walking, if he had chosen to. He didn't this time. His car was tampered with, and the only shortcut to his mansion was this cursed alley.

Landon hated this alley. After that night Landon avoided this area like a plague. But, now, he was forced to come back.

He hated these brick walls and stone paths. He hated the smoky scent of the alley. He hated the streetlights and the sound of crickets.

Most of all, he hated what had happened here.

He hated him

He hated the way he was so quick to believe that he had cheated.

Him? Landon King?

The utter blasphemy.

Landon was a man of dignity. He would never resort to such foul, low, and filthy actions. He prided himself on that.

And if Jeremy couldn't see it, then that's his fucking problem.

Landon barely remembers what had happened. After that stupid fight, he went out to drink with Eli. Lan remembers drinking too much. He drank shot after shot until his mind had turned cloudy.

But in the midst of that, he remembers a pair of sickening green eyes fixed on him. Someone was there. Someone had been watching his entire moves. Someone Landon didn't bother paying attention to because he was too busy moping.

And when Eli had slipped away to answer a call, that someone made their move.

His next drink was spiked. Landon was too drunk to notice, and he downed that shot as well.

What happened next was a blur. His mind had reeled, and someone had grabbed him. The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was that he was lifted.

When Landon woke up after that, he was in a hospital bed. Eli and Brandon were by his side, looking as worried as they could get.

By that I mean, a lot.

Then, Landon learned the truth. Some fucker had drugged him and tried to rape him.

He was already topless when Eli arrived. The guy was masked, and his cousin had beat him up. But the moment Eli turned to take Landon, the guy managed to escape.

After that, no one could find a single trace of that creep.

It was like he vanished from the earth's surface.

Landon didn't get enough time to worry about him because just after Jeremy demanded, they met up.

And the spot he had chosen? It was the same alley that Landon was walking through right now.

Landon had tried. He tried so hard to explain to his boyfriend that he didn't cheat on him, that he would never do such a thing.

But Jeremy didn't listen. He refused to listen.

He called him a whore.

That day, at that moment, Landon King's heart broke.

Hell, he didn't even think he could feel such thing.

But Jeremy Volkov made him feel it.

He made him feel many things.

Love. Pain. Hatred.

After that, Landon made it a point to never even spare Volkov a glance. Jeremy's friends came to Brighton Island, and they joined TKU, and Landon and his troupe joined the REU. So, the rivalry between their clubs began.

The Elites vs. the Heathens.

Landon King vs. Jeremy Volkov.

Landon avoided Jeremy, except to cause some chaos to drive those maniacs mad. It worked all the time. He always had a penchant for chaos.

Whenever that happened, Jeremy would try to put him in his place with his little band, but of course, he fails utterly and goes back home.

But Landon never missed those glances Jeremy stole from him. He always took notice of the way Jeremy's gaze lingered, of the way his eyes flickered to his lips, the way his pulse quickened whenever he stepped too close, of the way Jeremy's eyes darkened at every smirk Landon offers.

He never missed those little gestures.

It was far too nice to know that Lan wasn't the only one affected by his constant presence, wasn't the only one that wanted the other deep down.

Because, despite the hatred, despite the pain that he has stitched up in his heart with loose strings, Landon still loves him.

Landon has not been able to make a single sculpture without it having any symbolism or resemblance or reference to Jeremy.

Fuck him for making Jeremy his muse.

Fortunately for him, he makes sure no one can figure out the resemblances. He can't afford that.

He knows that Jeremy regrets that day.

But just not enough.

Landon wanted him on his knees, begging for forgiveness.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard metal against brick. He whipped around but saw no one.

A small sense of dread settled at the bottom of his stomach.

Five years ago, after that night, something else also changed.

Landon felt stalked. He felt eyes on him everywhere he went. It was faint and subtle, but it was there.

At first, Landon was delusional enough to think that it could've been Jeremy. He used to be Landon's stalker after all.

But, he quickly realised that it wasn't Jeremy. No, this was different.

Instead of comfort, it was suffocating, creepy, and confining.

Landon tried to find out who it was, but it seemed that the person was a seasoned stalker. Landon couldn't find a single trace of him. Or well, he assumes it's a him.

It would've been easier to figure it out had he been consistent. He wasn't. That made it much more difficult.

One thing that didn't sit right with him was that this feeling was oddly similar to the gaze of those green eyes. Subtle, unnoticeable, yet creepy.

Landon forced his shoulders to sag, and he continued on with his strides. He ignored the chill of the night. He wasn't scared, no, but he needed to be cautious. Then, he heard footsteps behind him.

But as soon as Landon turned around, the person was too close to him. His bones rattled as he was pushed against the wall by force. Landon grunted, and instinctively, his hands went up to attack his attacker.

He landed a punch square on his jaw, and when his body stopped its shaking, he noticed the man. He was as tall as Landon was, with a bulky build. His face was covered by a black skull mask. Landon froze when he recognised it.

Serpents.

But what brought a chill down his spine was the shade of his eyes. Green. Sickening green.

It cannot be.

"After all these years, why still fight, little mouse?" Landon's face pulled into a disgusted scowl as he heard those words. The man had a deep coarse voice, obviously from the extra usage of cigarettes. Landon could smell it on him as well, along with a faint note of gunpowder.

Landon sometimes smoked as well, but this guy clearly had a full-blown addiction.

"Get out of my fucking way, peasant." Landon spat at his feet. The man let out a deep chuckle and he inched closer. Landon quickly stepped back, his back pressing against the wall.

"No, little mouse." His head tilted. "Not when I haven't swallowed you yet." He could hear the smirk in the man's voice. Landon watched as the man raised his hand and touched his jaw. Landon tensed, but before he could do anything, the man was kicked on the side of his stomach.

Landon gasped as he saw the man hit the floor. Another figure pressed the guy down by his leg and leaned down to grab his collar.

"Watch your fucking hands." He growled. Landon's breath got caught in his throat when he heard the voice.

Jeremy Volkov.

His ex-boyfriend.

The man struggled under Jeremy and tried to push his leg off. Jeremy, however, didn't budge and, instead, brought up his leg and kicked his masked face.

"Fuck you." The man growled and pushed Jeremy's leg away and scrambled to his feet. A wet patch formed on his mask near his nose. He glanced at Landon, who stood there, frozen, staring wide-eyed at Jeremy and his unexpected intervention.

"Watch your back, little mouse." He warned and gave a glare to Jeremy before disappearing to the side of the alley. Landon stared at Jeremy, who scoffed and turned to look at Landon.

Landon's jaw clenched when their eyes clashed. Jeremy scanned him head to toe, checking for God knows what.

"Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong again, Volkov?" Landon asked, his glare sharp and tone biting. Jeremy didn’t even flinch. "When the fuck did you start watching me again?"

"I never stopped." Jeremy responded. Landon didn't know what to make of that. His eyes squinted and he scoffed.

"Get your suffocating presence out of my life or I will crush your skull." He threatened. Without waiting for a reply, Landon pushed past Jeremy and walked off.

He could feel Jeremy's sharp gaze on his back, searing into his skull. His mind was clouded and uncertain with the events of the night. First, his assualter had made his appearance in front of him. It had to be him. He remembers those eyes so fucking well. He doesn't even know how.

Then, Jeremy intervened before the situation escalated. Why? Landon has no clue. Jeremy sounded possesive, and acted like that man had touched something that belonged to him.

That was not true. Landon King belonged to no one. Especially not to Jeremy Volkov.

Not after what he did.

Chapter Text

Jeremy regretted that night more than anything.

He told himself to move on, even tried to. It didn't fucking work because Landon King was too deep in his system to just shake off like that.

Jeremy was disgusted at himself for still being in love with a cheater. Landon had cheated on him and yet, here Jeremy was, moping and yearning like a wife whose husband was out in the war.

Only difference? The war was inside Jeremy's mind, and Landon was just out of reach. He was close, yes, but his Kukolka would never surrender to him.

Not after he called him a whore.

Jeremy regrets that, too. So damn much. That was why he never stopped tracking and watching Landon like a sick fool.

Now, Landon knows.

Last night, Jeremy wanted to take a man's life more than he ever had before. Because that fucker had dared to touch Landon. His Landon.

And if that idiot thinks he can just live on after that, then he is sorely mistaken.

"These are all the Serpents with green eyes," Killian said, a cigarette between his lips as he showed Jeremy his computer screen. Jeremy stared at the faces of each of his enemies.

Gareth was next to them, arms crossed and staring at the screen as well. Jeremy had told them that he saw one of the Serpents assaulting a random girl, and Gareth was quick to help. He dragged Killian into this as well, and now here they were.

"There are only four of them?" Jeremy asked, glancing at Kill for a brief second. He blew out the smoke and nodded at Jeremy.

"Yep," he said. "But there are two with hazel eyes." He shrugged. Jeremy shook his head.

"It was green." He searched each of their faces for any sign of familiarity apart from glimpses at the fight club. 'How could any of them have a connection to Landon?' He thought.

"Does any of them seem familiar, Jer?" Gareth asked, his brows furrowed. His dimples made themselves known when he pursed his lips.

Jeremy's gaze was fixed on the first two.

Markov Smirnov
Andrey Lipovsky

Something about those two didn't sit right with him. Maybe it's the manic smile Andrey wore, or perhaps it's Markov's dead eyes.

"Pull up Smirnov." Jeremy instructed. Killian took another drag of his cigar and pressed on Markov's photo. Gareth wrinked his nose at the smell, while Jeremy resisted.

His eyebrows pulled into a furrow at the lack of information under Smirnov's profile.

"There isn't much." Gareth commented. Kill dragged the mouse and clicked on an icon. Yet, nothing changed.

"That's weird." He said. "All of the essential info on the Serpents are available under their names. Except this guy," he pointed at the dead stare of Markov. "Also, not to mention, this guy is mostly MIA."

"He is?" Jeremy raised an eyebrow. That makes sense. "Does he have any conflict with the Elites?" Jeremy asked.

If Markov was that masked man, then what was his motive? And why now?

"The same as the others', as far as I am concerned." Killian shrugged. Jeremy hummed and nodded.

"Send me his details." Jeremy instructed and walked out of there, leaving Kill to smoke and Gareth to worry.

Jeremy walked through the halls of their mansion, a scowl on his face. He should've gone after him and unmasked him. But then again, what kind of connection could Smirnov have with Lan to corner him in an alley? That, too, without their leader's knowledge.

And why the fuck did Landon freeze up?

None of it made sense.

Unless Jeremy is missing a big piece.

"This guy is mostly MIA."
"After all this time, why still fight, little mouse?"

Jeremy halted.

The gears in his head turned. Jeremy hadn't looked for the man who Landon had cheated with. At least, not soon enough.

At first, he was heartbroken and sad. Then that pain turned outrageous and he wanted to wipe the existence of that fucker away from this world.

But, he was a week late.

Suddenly, there was no any trace or lead towards whoever Lan had been with. The number had completely disappeared as well.

After that, Jeremy had given up on finding that guy and instead focused on moving on from Landon.

Like hell that worked.

But if Smirnov is a Serpent, and the guy who attacked Landon is also a Serpent, and the guy Landon cheated with is MIA, just like Markov is, then could it be?

Could it be that Markov Smirnov was his temporary replacement?

Jeremy's fists clenched at his sides. How could Landon ever? No, his Kukolka would never cheat on him with a fucking Serpent of all people.

Jeremy huffed and rubbed his hands through his face. Then, an idea formed in his head.

If anyone could know the truth of what happened, then that was only one person.

Brandon King.

Chapter Text

The cafe was buzzing with Brighton Island’s riches. Most of the people were wearing pristine classy outfits, in contrast to Jeremy’s leather and boots. The mafia prince walked through the shop, his gaze searching for his Kukolka’s clone.

If Jeremy’s calculations and Niko’s blabbering had been correct, then the King siblings would be having a siblings’ date today. And being the perfectionist Brandon King is, he would be early.

There he is,

Jeremy fixed his jacket as he headed straight towards the unsuspecting King twin. Brandon was sitting straight, his phone in hand and texting someone. A brief smile crossed his blank face when his screen lit up. Jeremy stopped in front of him, and Brandon glanced up. Surprise clouded his features.

“Jeremy?” Brandon said. “What are you doing here?” Jeremy noticed how his posture had stiffened, and there was slight hostility in his eyes. Actually, Jeremy had noticed that before as well. Unless Niko was with them, Brandon was usually tense around him.

“Can I ask you some questions?” he asked, instead. Brandon paused, but after a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, sit, please,” he gestured to the chair opposite of him. “What’s wrong? Is it about Niko?”

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s about your brother, actually.”

It was frightening how quickly Brandon’s expression hardened. His confused gaze turned steely, and he crossed his arms, raising a single eyebrow. This was the first time Jeremy had found the twins actually identical. Because right now, with his hostile posture and defiant glare, Brandon looked exactly like Landon.

Jeremy wanted to kill himself.

“Why should I tell you anything about my brother?” Brandon asked. The glare that the younger twin was giving him was probably burning into his skull.

He knows.

“I want to know the truth about what happened five years ago, but kuk-” Jeremy corrected himself. “Landon, would not tell me.” He tried, but Brandon scoffed.

“Perhaps had you listened, then maybe he would’ve.” Brandon scoffed. “Then again, who listens to cheaters, hm?” Jeremy exhaled at that. Was this actually the same Brandon King Nikolai was talking about?

“Brandon, I understand that you might be mad -”

“Might?” Jeremy released a breath at the accusatory tone.

“Someone is after him.” He confessed. Brandon froze at that. “If we don’t find out who, then something might happen to Landon, and I’m sure neither you nor me wants that.”

Jeremy waited for Brandon’s response, expectantly. Brandon sat there contemplating. His hardened blue eyes searched Jeremy’s face for any sign of deception. He must’ve found none because he sighed and spoke again.

“What does that have to do with anything that happened five years ago?”

“I suspect there is a connection.” He said. Brandon let out a scoff. “Which is why I want to know what happened.”

“After five fucking years, Jeremy.” Bran chuckled, dryly. Jeremy swallowed a lump forming in his mouth. He really was a dick, wasn’t he? When Jeremy didn’t reply, Brandon spoke.

“The night you accused my brother of cheating, he was drugged.” The words were a slap to his face. Brandon’s bitter stare did nothing to soften the blow. His eyes widened. Landon didn’t mention anything about that.

“What?” His voice cracked. His kukolka was drugged? Someone had dared to touch his Landon?

“Landon was drugged.” Brandon’s voice thickened the more he spoke. “And if Eli hadn’t found him on time, then my twin brother would’ve met my fate. Or something worse.”

Jeremy kept quiet. He couldn’t bear to speak. He felt his heart clench and his windpipes felt like they were closing in. Brandon didn’t stop talking, though.

“After you called him a whore, he came home and cried helplessly in my arms.” Brandon’s voice wavered. “Do you know? That was the first time I’ve ever seen him break apart and that was in my arms.” he chuckled bitterly. “I couldn’t do shit, I could only hold him.”

Jeremy’s eyes burned as tears threatened to fall. His fists were clenched and he felt his breathing get heavier and heavier as the information registered. “I’m sorry.”

Brandon huffed at the whisper. “I’m not the one you should apologise to.”

Jeremy looked at him. His eyes were brimmed red, and his lips parted to speak again.

“Do you think he’ll listen to me?” Jeremy asked, a string of hope laced in his voice. Brandon spared him a glance and let out a deep breath.

“If he does, consider yourself the luckiest man on earth.” he said. “Because that night, I lost a part of my twin that you took with you.”

Whatever hope was left inside Jeremy, burned away at that. But Jeremy wasn’t ready to be a coward again. No, he couldn’t fucking afford that. He needed Landon back. He needed him back in his arms.

And he’ll do whatever it takes.

“Did you ever find out who did it?” he asked after heaving out a shuddering breath. Brandon seemed to be back to his composed self, as he shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Eli tried to. But we found nothing, except that he has green eyes, according to Lan.”

Jeremy’s head shot up at that, his eyes filled with alarm. “Green eyes?”

Brandon nodded. Jeremy’s eyes wandered the cafe as his mind connected the dots. Landon froze up when he saw the masked man, probably because he recognised him. Jeremy ran a hand across his face. Rage was beginning to build inside him.

“I’m going to find out who that guy is and I'm going to make sure he doesn’t see the light of day again.” Jeremy promised Brandon. The latter stared at him before looking over his shoulder, and he straightened. Jeremy followed his line of sight and his breath hitched.

Landon King was walking into the cafe. He was wearing a black tight turtleneck and matching trousers, paired with black boots. His dark brown hair was styled neatly. He looked so simple, yet so elegant.

Jeremy’s royal prince.

“This is your best chance.” Brandon's voice pulled him back to reality. He looked at him to find him staring at him with a pointed look. “Don’t blow it.”

“I won’t.” Jeremy nodded. Then, he stood up and turned around. His eyes met his favourite azure ones. Landon’s eyes narrowed, and a scowl formed on his face. This was going to be hard. With a deep breath, Jeremy walked towards Landon.

Landon stood rooted to his place, his arms crossed and glare defiant. Jeremy kept his eyes locked on Landon’s as he strode closer. When he was right infront of him, Jeremy halted. Landon raised an eyebrow at him.

"What the fuck were you doing with my brother?" Landon asked, his voice tight and angry. Jeremy's eyebrows raised, and he tried his best not to stare at his lips.

"He is Nikolai's boyfriend." He replied, gaze locked onto the depth of his blue eyes, which was even worse because Jeremy felt like he was drowning in them.

"And?" Landon pressed. "That gives you what right, exactly?"

Jeremy sighed. "Kukolka -"

Landon's body went rigid, and his eyes widened, forcing Jeremy to shut up. "Don't. Fucking. Call. Me. That." He gritted out.

"Hey," Jeremy stepped closer in alarm, and Landon immediately stepped back, his hand slightly shaking.

"You don't have the fucking right to call me that again, Jeremy." He said. The way his name spilled from those lips made Jeremy want to drive a knife through his own chest. "I'm not yours."

"Landon, please, listen to me." Jeremy tried. "Can we talk somewhere away from these people?"

"No." Landon said. Jeremy didn’t realise how much Landon was hurting because of him, if that nickname brought out a reaction as such.

"Please?" Jeremy's voice was thick with need. "After this, if I say one wrong thing, you can leave." He promised. Landon stared at him with suspicion and hostility. Jeremy loathed that it was directed at him.

But, he deserved it, didn't he?

Landon tore his gaze away and looked at Brandon over his shoulder. Then, he typed something on his phone before looking at Jeremy again.

"Fine." He forced out and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the café. The selfish part of Jeremy relished in the touch while the other part worried about what was to come.

In their struggle of emotions, they failed to notice a pair of green eyes darkening at the sight.

....

Landon's heart hammered in his chest as he pulled Jeremy to the side of the building. From the look on Bran's face, Landon concluded that Jeremy knows the truth now.

After five years, they were finally going to talk about what happened. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. But with the lack of sleep from last night, a hope was blooming in his chest.

Landon barely slept last night, his thoughts running miles per minute, trying to figure out who was that masked Serpent. The majority of his brain concluded that he was the same person who drugged him, and the same person who was now stalking him as well.

Another reason for his lack of sleep was Jeremy’s intervention. He had cried again, thinking about the void that had formed in his chest from the last five years. He cried, thinking about the promises Jeremy had made. He cried, thinking about whether this was all a sick joke.

Mostly, he cried because he was still delusional enough to think that Jeremy wanted him still.

Just as much as he did.

"What is it?" Landon asked the moment they faced each other again. Jeremy released a breath.

"I'm sorry." He said. Landon stared at him for another beat. Jeremy's usually composed grey eyes now looked like they were on the verge of clouding over.

"A sorry doesn't give back the five years I lost moping." Landon gritted out, and Jeremy gasped out a wet laugh.

"Do you think I was living my best life these years?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes pleading.

"And whose fault is that, Volkov?" Landon spat. Jeremy winced, and his head lowered.

"Don't say my name like that," he whispered.

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" Landon's tone wavered, biting back the tears threatening to spill.

"Kukolka, please." Jeremy's eyes teared up as he took a hold of Landon's clammy hands in his own shaky ones. "I'm so sorry. I'll find that fucker and I will kill him with my own hands."

Landon shook his head and pulled out his hand, chuckling bitterly. "I don't need your help." He spat.

"Then what do you need?" Jeremy asked. "I promise to give you anything you ask." His voice was desperate as he tried to take Landon's hand again. Landon forced the lump down his throat.

"You won't." He stated. Jeremy shook his head as his shoulders slumped. Then, he looked at Landon again with embers burning in his eyes.

"Do you want me on my knees, kukolka?" He whispered. A tear slipped from Jeremy’s eye, and it rolled down. Landon hated that nickname for having such an effect on him. He hated the man in front of him for being his damnation. He hated himself for loving him still.

Still, Landon forced his voice not to break as he stared at Jeremy with all the defiance he could muster at this state.

"I want you to erase yourself from my life." He whispered. With that, he turned to walk away, but Jeremy’s hand shot up to grip his arm, and in the next second, he was pinned against the wall, with Jeremy towering over him. He gasped as he stared at Jeremy’s hardening face. Yet, his eyes remained vulnerable.

"Anything, but that." He stated. Landon let out a shuddering breath, his eyes wide. "Whether you like it or not, kukolka, you will always be mine." Jeremy said.

Then, he brought up Landon's hand to place on his chest, above his heart. "This thing beats for you and only you, and I know somewhere in yours, your love for me is still there." Landon felt the beat of Jeremy’s heart under his palm. A silent promise of the love this man still harbours for him. Yet, the uneven pulsing of it shows the guilt wrapped around it as well.

"I would betray myself if I give you a chance again." Landon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Not when you didn't do anything for five years." His voice broke at the end.

Jeremy’s eyes shut close and when he opened them again, Landon surpressed a gasp. Because in those stormy grey irises, guilt and self-loathing glinted brighter than anything else.

"I was a coward. A blind fool." He said. "I know that. I know that I don't deserve you. But you're too bound in my soul, that I find it impossible to shake you off. And, I don't want to. I love you, Kukolka, and I'm so damn sorry." Jeremy confessed.

Landon froze and a chill went down his spine. His thoughts spiralled and he didn't want to surrender. Yet, his heart yearned to say it back, to admit the truth he was burying inside himself.

But he was Landon King.

He never forgave easily. Especially not when Jeremy was the second ever person he loved unconditionally.

"I loved you, Jeremy." Landon whispered. "I loved you unconditionally, but you broke me apart like I was nothing. I'm not ready to give you my trust again." He turned his head away, tears blooming in his chest.

It pained him to say it. Yet, after all those nights he spent crying, he couldn't bring himself to accept him.

Atleast, not for a little while.

Landon didn't see the way Jeremy's eyes dulled and another kind of fire burned in them. He didn't know how just like him, Jeremy had also spent his nights consumed by longing and regret.

"I will kill that person who distanced us." Jeremy said, his voice dangerously calm and collected. Landon's eyes shot up to meet his, and a chill went down his spine when he saw the undettered determination in Jeremy's eyes. But it was his next words that made Landon suck in a breath.

"And if you can't forgive me after that, then, I'll kill myself so you don’t have to see me again." With that, Jeremy kissed his knuckles and let his hand drop. Landon watched Jeremy step back and turn on his heel.

Landon didn't know if he could forgive Jeremy that easily.

But he knew one thing, he would never ever let Jeremy be hurt.

Especially not because of him.

Chapter Text

Landon was met with radio silence from Jeremy for two days. So much for him trying to redeem himself, Landon thought bitterly.

That day, after Landon got back home from his siblings’ date with Glyn and Bran, he received a text message from an unknown ID with an image attached.

Landon’s heart stumbled when he opened the message.

Unknown
You really have a way of testing my patience, don’t you, little mouse?
Image attached.

Landon read the message and knew immediately who it was. After all, only one person had the nerve to call him that. Landon opened the image with a deep exhale, and his body froze when he saw it.

It was a photo of him and Jeremy at the cafe that day. They were in the moment where Landon was dragging Jeremy out with a firm grip on his arm, and Jeremy was staring at the contact with an almost unnoticeable smile.

Deep uneasiness had settled at the bottom of his stomach. He was an enigmatic figure in Brighton Island. Landon was a topic of awe and fear to the people here. To think someone had dared to take a secret photo of him, it was unsettling.

But that action had confirmed his doubts. It was now obvious that the masked Serpent was the one who had drugged him. So, Landon sent back a message before the number got deleted.

Landon
Stop hiding, you coward.

The reply was instant.

Unknown
Careful what you wish for, little mouse.

That psycho had even paired it with a winking emoji.

After that, Landon went to Eli with the number, but the damned thing had disappeared. In his frustration, Landon had broken a vase.

Now, Landon was sitting in his room, cursing his fate. He wanted nothing more than to kill that disgusting motherfucker for ruining his life.

The sheer audacity of that guy was messing with Landon’s head. And the fact that for the first time in Landon’s life, he was stuck, frustrated him.

Jeremy’s lack of response only fueled it.

Suddenly, Landon was forced out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone. With a furrow to his eyebrows, Lan picked up his phone, and the crease in his forehead only deepened when he saw the ID.

Bran’s dog.

Why was Nikolai calling him of all people? The question rang in his mind as he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear. Before he could even say ‘hello’, Nikolai spoke.

“What the hell did you do?” he asked. Landon’s face morphed into deeper confusion at Nikolai’s panicked tone.

“What the hell do you mean?” he asked back. He heard an exaggerated sigh from the other side.

“I don’t know what you did, King, but Jeremy has a man tied in our basement, and when I asked why, he said your name and walked off. Whatever the case,  I've never seen my best friend that cold and detached. So, you better get your ass up here and deal with him.” With that, like the dramatic bitch he is, Nikolai hung up. He didn’t even give Lan a chance to speak.

Landon pocketed his phone and stood up. Nikolai was known for thriving in violence, so, if he himself gave a warning, then this was serious.

”I will kill that person who distanced us.”

What if Jeremy had the wrong person?

That thought alone was enough to get his feet to move. Jeremy was ruthless when need be. If an innocent man got under his wrath, Landon doesn’t even want to imagine that bloody scene.

He skipped steps as he ran downstairs with his keys. Remington, who was drinking his evening tea, raised an eyebrow at him.

“Where are you going?” he questioned. Landon swung open the mansion door.

“No time,” he muttered and walked towards his McLaren. He finally got it fixed and polished. Sliding into his car, Landon started up his engine, and he zoomed out of the mansion driveway.

The Heathens’ mansion as his destination.

....

The tall gates of the Heathens' mansion opened as his McLaren drove in. The car skidded to a park, and he got out. In an instant, guards were up in his face.

"Who are you?" One of those bulkheads asked. Landon rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

"Look, I don't have time for an interrogation, and even if I did, I'm not interested." Landon said, then offered a forced smile. "Now, if you'll step aside," he gestured.

"Let him in." A voice interrupted. A chill went down Landon's spine when he recognised it. He exhaled through his nose and turned his gaze towards him.

Jeremy Volkov stood tall and commanding. The three guards backed up and lowered their heads like perfect dogs. Landon rolled his eyes again.

"How cute." He muttered, sarcastically. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at him, his fingers twitching, and a smile trying to be hidden.

"Come with me." Jeremy said, holding out his hand. Landon stared at it and back at his face before scoffing and walking past him. He heard a deep chuckle as he felt Jeremy's presence follow him.

The urge to kick his balls was overwhelming.

When they were inside the mansion and away from prying eyes and ears, Landon turned to Jeremy with a glare.

"Do I look like a damsel in need of saving?" Landon asked, his eyebrows raised and arms crossed. Jeremy's eyes sparkled with amusement, and Landon’s glare darkened. "Should I fall into your arms while we're at it?" His voice dripped with snark.

"I wouldn't mind." Jeremy replied, his lips quirked up, and voice infuriatingly calm. Landon wanted to punch his perfect face.

"I'm sure you wouldn't." Landon murmered. Then, he got straight to it because his dumbass didn't get the hint. "Why do you have a man in your basement?" He asked.

Jeremy's face blanked, and his jaw muscles tightened. His fists went inside his pockets and he tilted his head.

"How do you know that?" He asked. Landon stepped closer, getting in his space. Jeremy's eyes flickered to his lips.

"Answer my question first, Volkov." He glared. Jeremy's eyes squinted. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he spoke.

"You think I'm going to let someone who hurt you live?" Jeremy asked, his voice steady, but Landon could sense the underlying fury.

There was a faint flutter in his stomach, but his biting mouth spoke before he could think.

"You're living." Landon's voice was blunt. Pain flickered in Jeremy's eyes as he stepped back, almost as if the words forced him back.

"This is me making it up to you, kukolka." He whispered. "I'm trying to get you to give me a chance again. I'm trying to prove to you that I won't make the same mistake twice."

Landon swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his head away.

"You and I can never go back, Jeremy." Landon said, his voice low and soft but heavy with pain. "We were too destructive."

Before Jeremy could retort to that, someone walked in, interrupting.

"Boss," Ilya Levitsky's voice sounded. Landon's eyes turned to look at him. The new assistant Jeremy got. The thought made him scoff. "He woke up." Ilya informed.

Landon's eyebrows raised at that, while Jeremy nodded. Then, his mafia prince turned towards him.

"Let's make him beg, kukolka." He smirked, a dark and cold glint in his eyes. Landon's own eyes darkened at the detached psychotic look forming in Jeremy's face. He had never seen him like this before.

But, god, he was loving it.

....

The basement of the Heathens' mansion was, as Landon expected, cliché.

Grey cement walls stood tall as small lightbulbs hung in some corners, illuminating the otherwise dark room. Torturing machines, weapons, and tools were arranged in a clean order on the furthest wall.

Landon tore his gaze away from the fascinating devices and looked at the man tied up. A black cloth hid his face, but he looked pretty beaten up. His posture was hunched, but the twitching of his fingers suggested that he was awake. The man was wearing a battered white tank top and dark pants that were ripped in the knees.

Landon glanced at Jeremy and his blank face before taking a deep breath and walking towards the man. Jeremy didn’t stop him. He simply watched.

He stopped infront of him and leaned forward, before pulling the cloth over his head. The man's bruised face came into view and Landon’s eyes narrowed. He looked familiar, but Landon couldn't pinpoint exactly where he had seen him. But he felt that he knew him, somehow.

Suddenly, the man opened his eyes and sickening green met Landon's azure eyes. His eyes darkened as the man before him smirked.

"Why, hello there, little mouse." He purred. "You really had to ask his help to find me?" He tsked, shaking his head. Landon scoffed.

"I did not ask for anyone's help," Landon said. "But fate really has a way of bringing my preys to my doorstep." He mused, smirking.

"You're my prey." The man said, a lazy smirk lifting his bruised lips. Landon scoffed.

"Delusional," Landon rolled his eyes. "Maybe that's what gave you the courage to stalk me, touch me, and threaten me. All against my consent. It's time you pay for it."

The green eyed idiot simply smiled, except for a faint flicker of something in his eyes. Landon was slightly appalled by the audacity this man possessed.

"So, what are you going to do?" He asked, tilting his head. "Kill me?"

"No," Landon smirked. "My hands are far too pretty to be dirtied by a filth's blood." He said, checking his nails.

"I'm flithy?" The man asked, amused. Landon tilted his head.

"You're absolutely repulsive." Landon said. "He is going to kill you." Landon gestured towards Jeremy, who was watching the exchange with dark eyes.

"Your dog?" The man scoffed, his face pulling into a scowl. Landon smirked and leaned closer to his ear so Jeremy wouldn't hear him.

"No," he whispered. "My Monster."

With that, he leaned back with a perfect smile and spat in his face. "Rot in hell, bitch." He said and walked towards Jeremy.

Jeremy watched him approach with storm brewing in his grey eyes. Landon stopped in front of him and smirked, crossing his arms.

"In the mood to draw some blood?" Landon asked. Jeremy huffed out a laugh and glanced at the tied man.

"I'm fucking livid." He said. "Stand back and watch, kukolka. I'm going to destroy him." He promised and took Landon’s hand to kiss it.

Landon's heart fluttered at the movement, but he remained stoic. He nodded and pulled his hand away, letting Jeremy walk towards that peasant.

He crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, watching. Jeremy stopped in front of him and fisted his hair harshly, eliciting a wince out of him.

"Time to pay for your sins, Smirnov." He spat and punched him straight in the nose. Landon smirked when he heard a satisfying crack and a groan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.

Blood gushed out of Markov's nose, and he sputtered. Landon lit his cigarette and took a drag out of it, blowing it out the next second as Jeremy's bloodied fist collided with his face again.

"You better be fucking sorry for what you did, when I'm done with you." Jeremy said and gripped his throat, chocking him.

"You don't scare me." Markov gritted out with much struggle but gasped when Jeremy's fingers dug in. Despite his words, a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes.

"We'll see about that, motherfucker." Jeremy spat in his face and brought up his other hand as well, snapping his neck. A sharp noise left Markov, and Landon’s smirk widened. He took another drag and let the smokiness fill the room, along with the metallic stench of fresh blood.

Jeremy lands a hard blow on the back of his victim's head, and Landon inhales at the crack. He is doing this on purpose so that Markov dies slowly. Blood gushes out of his ears and nose, resulting in him choking on his own blood.

"This is it, fucker." Jeremy leaned closer so that their faces are on the same level. "I'm sending you to hell." He growled.

Landon's eyes narrowed, but they quickly sharpened when he saw Markov's eyes widen and choke. His face paled and he coughed up blood.

What did Jeremy do?

That was when Landon saw it, the bloody thrumming organ resting in Jeremy's hand. The vacant hole pouring blood on Markov's body. The bastard's body slumped to the left, hitting the floor with a thud. Landon's eyes however stayed fixed on Jeremy's hand.

His ex-boyfriend turned around to face him, a wild grin in his blood stained face. Landon's pupils dilated at the messy sight. Blood was splashed across Jeremy's shirt, staining it. But that was least of his concern. It was the look on his face that put a strange feeling in Landon.

Terror

Arousal

And a deep realisation.

The man before him was as insane and fucked up as he was. Maybe even more so. The revelation was enough to get Landon to move. He walked towards a proud Jeremy, his cigarette stick still in hand. He stopped infront of him and tilted his head before looking down at the bloody heart of his assaulter.

Landon pressed his cigarette on it and stared up at Jeremy. Markov's blood was all around them and dripping from Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy’s own eyes were dark and watching him with an intensity that made Landon want to drop to his fucking knees and worship this god of a man.

"You did it." He whispered. Jeremy’s face softened at the edges, and he tossed the heart on to Smirnov's face. He then faced Landon with a raw, untamed look, his fingers twitching. It was obvious he was aching to touch him.

"I would burn down this world for you, baby." Jeremy said. The sincerity of those words made Landon inhale sharply. The look of utter devotion and adoration in his eyes were just cherry on top.

Landon felt his heart hammering in his chest as he stared at Jeremy, battling his emotions and demons.

Jeremy Volkov is surely his damnation.

"I love you, Landon." Jeremy said. "Please give me a chance again. I'll drop to my knees right now, please, kukolka." He begged.

Landon swallowed hard. He wanted to. After seeing Jeremy take his stalker's life like that? Oh, he desperately wanted to. Yet,

"How?" He whispered. "After everything we went through?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Jeremy said, his eyes tearing up. Landon's hands twitched. The Jeremy Volkov was crying for him. "But you have to understand, kukolka. You were the one person I let in fully. The only one I trusted not to put a bullet through my heart, and when I saw that photo, it seemed like everything we've built was a lie. It seemed like every little thing was falling apart around me. That picture haunted me for five years." He exhaled, collecting himself. Landon's own eyes began to water as he listened.

"I know that I should've heard you out. I know that I shouldn't have believed it, but I was heartbroken. I felt so utterly ruined when I saw it. When I read that cursed message. And I know it doesn't justify anything but you mean the whole fucking world to me, kukolka. And these five years were the worst kind of torture I've been through, and I can't lose you again. So, please, baby. Please give me a second chance." He cried, begging. Landon’s heart twisted, and he gulped before finally letting out a deep breath to steady himself.

"One last chance." He whispered. In an instant Jeremy’s features shifted. His lips parted in shock, and he exhaled, shakily. Then, he let out a breathy laugh and stepped closer.

"I could kiss you -" he paused when Landon froze up, his cheeks dusted pink. "But, I'm covered in blood, so." He quickly covered up as Landon managed a nod and stepped back.

"So.." Landon trailed, looking at him. Jesus, this is awkward.

"So." Jeremy's lips quirked up into a small smirk. Landon was already beginning to regret this.

....

"I swear to fuck, Jeremy!" Landon screamed as he gripped Jeremy’s waist tighter. The winds rushed past them, loud and cutting even through their helmets. Landon's fingers fisted Jeremy’s t-shirt as he pressed himself against his strong back.

"Enjoying yourself, kukolka?" Jeremy asked. Landon could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and Landon rolled his eyes.

"You're a loser." He managed as Jeremy overtook yet another car. They were very well crossing the speed limit, but Landon decided that he didn't care. "Where are you kidnapping me to?" He shouted through the winds.

One of his hands came up to adjust his helmet, while the other gripped Jeremy still. Jeremy had gotten him a helmet, especially for him. It was black with midnight blue lines outlining the edges, and the visors had a blue tint to it when sunlight hit on it.

"Kidnapping?" Jeremy laughed. "I'm simply burrowing your presence for the evening." He said, his hand brushing against Landon's.

"As if." Landon muttered. Suddenly, Jeremy slowed down, and Landon let out a grunt when his chest collided with Jeremy's back. He looked through his visors as Jeremy stopped the bike in front of a restaurant. Landon looked at him.

"Dinner, Mr. Volkov?" He smirked. "Didn't realise you were such a romantic." Landon teased.

"I'm rolling my eyes right now." Jeremy said, taking off his helmet. Landon chuckled and hopped off the bike. Jeremy followed, hanging the helmets on the handlebars and pocketing his keys.

Landon stared at the cosy looking restaurant and turned to look at Jeremy with a questioning gaze. Jeremy met his gaze with a knowing smirk.

"I know your highness prefers five-star hotels, but I wanted to try something new with you." He said, holding out his hand. Landon smirked, his chest swelling, and interlocked their fingers.

"Cheesy." He teased as they walked in. Jeremy opened the door for him, and Landon strode in with Jeremy trailing after him.

The past two months had been the best. The first two weeks after they restarted had been a bit awkward and tense. But Landon isn't sure when or how it quickly changed.

All of a sudden, Landon woke up next to Jeremy, their bodies entangled and warm smiles on their faces.

They were back.

They were back to being two psychotic idiots in love. Jeremy did everything to prove himself. Cooking for Landon, getting him his favourite snacks and chocolates, buying him flowers, and overall pampering him and making it damn hard to resist.

Eventually, on a heated, passionate night, Landon confessed. Jeremy made love to him harder after that until they both passed out from exhaustion.

Landon would never forget that night.

"What's on your mind?" Jeremy asked, nudging their shoulders together. Landon looked at him and smiled.

"You." He said and watched as a smile bloomed on Jeremy's face, and he turned his head, almost shy. Landon couldn't help but laugh. "Aw, sweetheart." He giggled.

Jeremy blushed and shoved his shoulder before pulling a chair for him. Landon sat down and propped his elbows on the table, resting his head on them. Jeremy sat down opposite of him, taking the menu.

Landon watched him with a fond smile. Not only was he happy, but he was also relieved. The big void in his chest had closed completely, locked. Its key was with Jeremy. Every night, he went to sleep either in Jeremy's arms or looking forward to waking up to meet Jer.

Also, Landon was finally able to breathe better and openly, instead of feeling like he was getting suffocating into putting on a mask. He didn't feel those eyes anymore. He didn't feel like he was being watched in every move he made. No, Landon felt relieved.

"Are you listening, kukolka?" Jeremy's voice, once again, brought him back to reality. Landon blinked before a grin broke out on his face again.

"Yes," he said. Then, he tilted his head and spoke in his softest tone. "I love you, Jer."

Jeremy's eyes briefly widened and another blush bloomed on his cheeks, before he chuckled. "I love you too, my little prince." He said, smiling.

Landon giggled and stared at him. Jeremy stared back at him, smiling like a fool. Landon couldn't help himself, and he leaned in kissing his lips. Jeremy's eyes fluttered as he kissed him back.

This was it. Landon realised that there was no turning back. They belonged to each other, and they will always be.

Jeremy Volkov is his boyfriend.

His muse.
His forever.

And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

The End

Chapter Text

Landon is getting courted.

Now, don't laugh—even he isn't sure how it happened.

Okay, maybe he is.

It started out small—a black rose attached to his sculpting tools, a red rose sticking out of his car window, etc etc.

Then the number increased. One rose suddenly changed into bouquets of rich, magnificent flowers. Landon would find a huge bouquet of deep red roses sitting on his bed after a long day outside. Or, maybe sometimes it would be inside his car or in his studio.

Truth be told—Landon was freaked out.

and he never gets freaked out.

When the single roses started appearing, he thought it was a prank by Ariella or Ava. They find shit like these amusing, and he doesn't question them anymore.

But then the bouquets started appearing, and when Landon finally confronted them—they blinked at him, confused.

So, of course, Landon freaked out.

Who had access to his car, his studio, and his damn bedroom, and they're not one of his close friends?

So, like any person with a twin brother—he went and ranted about this matter to Brandon.

And you know what Bran did? He laughed and told him, "You're overreacting, Lan."

Yeah. That's exactly what he said. His overthinking, overprotective, momma bear of a brother told him that it wasn't a big deal.

So, if Brandon doesn't think it's much of a big deal, then why should he worry? That's how Landon began to accept the flowers, oblivious to its meaning.

He only realised what was actually happening when he started receiving other things as well.

So much for being a genius.

Landon had stared at the box of—mouthwatering and absolutely delicious looking—cherry shortcakes, blinking.

Those were his favourites. But he didn't buy them, so how did they get here? He had wondered. His first thought was Brandon, but when he asked Brandon, he had turned down that idea with a secret smile.

That's when Landon realised that he was, in fact, actually getting courted.

The idea was absurd and laughable—almost as if he was a princess betrothed to whoever was courting him.

Yeah, Lan has no clue who his admirer is even till now. I mean, with his looks, there could be thousands.

Anyways, the point is he is being courted, and he doesn't know by whom. Landon should be worried—scared even. But it was sort of...thrilling. It even gave him some ideas and inspiration for his sculptures.

The sculptor becomes the muse, courted as one's beloved.

Besides, he enjoys the attention. Not to mention, the array of beautiful flowers and delicious treats are any lover's dream.

Not that he is one. He just likes it, that's all.

Right now, he is sucking on a lollipop—cherry flavoured, of course—while walking through the fight club. A stash of them were inside his car, obviously from his admirer, and who was Landon to reject his favourite candy?

Suddenly, someone reached out to grab his arm, and he was pulled into a locker room. Landon nearly choked on his lollipop when he was slammed on the nearest wall by his attacker.

Instinctively, he reached up to punch their teeth in, but a strong hand shot up to grab his fist. That's when Landon finally registered the person. A black mask covered their lower face, but those stormy grey eyes were unmistakable.

Jeremy Volkov.

"Why are you wearing a mask in your own club?" Landon blurted out. Volkov chuckled, reaching up to pull the cloth down and revealing his full face. Landon was—as usual—momentarily stunned by the man's handsome face.

"What are you doing here, kukolka?" Jeremy tilted his head as he asked. There it was—that damn nickname Jeremy calls him by. It means doll, apparently. Landon still isn't sure why, and Jeremy had always managed to dodge the question.

"Why, I came to see you." Landon smirked, leaning closer to his face. Jeremy's gaze flickered to his lips, and the lollipop stick sticking out of his mouth. Then, he looked back up to Landon's eyes again.

"Really, now?" He asked, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a slow smirk. Landon nodded, pulling out the half-gone lolly from his mouth. "Enjoying the candy?"

Landon paused at the question and then nodded. "They're my favourite." He replied. Jeremy's eyes glinted with amusement as he hummed.

"I thought so."

"What?" Landon blinked at him, confused. Jeremy bit back a smile and shook his head.

"Nothing." Then, reluctantly—as if it hurt him, he stepped back, giving Landon space. Landon leaned against the wall and tilted his head.

"Do you usually hang around in the fight club?" Landon found himself asking. Jeremy looked at him for a second and then nodded.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I like it here."

Landon simply nodded. The reason he was actually here was because he had left one of his jackets in one of their locker rooms after a fight yesterday. He came to pick that up.

Until Jeremy intervened, of course.

Something about them has changed. Landon is aware of that—and he is pretty sure Jeremy is too.

They had been enemies—enemies who wanted to bash each other's skulls out, destroy one another, and possibly kill each other.

It had been like that.

Then, everyone around them began to change. Both of their friends found love, happiness, and friendship in their rivals and mutuals. Time passed, and the two of them were also forced to change and be mature as Eli said.

So, there was an official truce—which Landon didn't see the point of since everyone was already fucking each other, but oh well.

Like that, Landon had to settle for the fights at the fight club to satisfy his tendency for chaos and violence.

Oh, and the Serpents, of course.

Then came Jeremy. The man had always been a shadow, his stalker. Ever since their animosity started, Jeremy had watched him—as if Landon was his prey. Landon hated it at first, even went to the lengths of setting his bike on fire to stop him, but the man was adamant. Soon, Landon began to like the attention. He liked having a stalker such as Jeremy Volkov, and he found himself causing chaos just to keep his attention on him.

and no one else.

It worked, of course. I mean, who could ever get bored of him? Nikolai would beg to differ, but that's his issue.

Anyways, the point is that Jeremy's attention remained fixed on only him. There was this tension—a fire in the air whenever their eyes clashed, a shiver running down his spine whenever they stepped too close to each other—but never enough.

It was always a constant game of push and pull—addicting as much as it was frustrating.

"You're pretty when you're zoned out." Jeremy's husky voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Landon blinked, registering the compliment, then a smirk tugged at his lips.

"I thought I was always pretty." Landon said, tilting his head. Jeremy huffed out a chuckle, stepping closer until he could feel the heat of his body.

"Yeah," he nodded, leaning in so his lips were near Landon's ear. "Pretty mine, that is."

Landon's body locked up at the possessive, seductive tone Jeremy used. He forced out a breathy laugh.

"Said who?" Landon asked, sounding confident, despite his inner turmoil. "Last I checked, I belong to myself."

Jeremy's smirk widened at that. His hand reached up to grab Landon's chin—tilting his head up. Landon met the grey of his eyes, a challenge in his own blue ones.

"But those eyes of yours, kukolka, they beg to tell something else." Jeremy said—his voice a low whisper that sends heat rushing to Landon's groin.

"Didn't know you were a mind reader." Landon retorted, keeping his face blank of any emotion or weakness.

"When it comes to you," Jeremy smiled, sincerity seeping into his tone. "I could be anything."

....

Landon has no idea how he managed to escape. The moment Jeremy whispered those words, something shifted within Landon, and he isn't sure if he likes it or not.

He was stunned and well, aroused.

He even forgot to take his jacket, for heaven's sake. Either way, unless there is a fight, he isn't stepping a foot in there. He'll just buy an exact copy of that jacket—or something.

Shaking his head free of thoughts, he stepped back into his room—and paused because what the fuck was his jacket doing in his room?

On the bed, next to his jacket—is a bouquet of deep red roses and a box of dark chocolates.

Landon's gaze fell on the note attached to the bouquet and he creeped closer to it. He snatched the note and looked at the neat handwriting.

I wasn't planning on giving it back to you, but you looked so beautiful in this yesterday, I had to.

A shiver went down his spine because he knows that handwriting. He has seen that writing before, and he isn't sure what to feel about that information nor about the flutter in his stomach.

Because that handwriting belonged to his rival, Jeremy Volkov.

The flowers and chocolates next to it were without a doubt the ones his admirer gives him. Landon's body shuddered at that thought.

His stalker is courting him.

Jeremy fucking Volkov is courting him.

How the heck hadn't he connected the dots before?

It also made too much sense to be a coincidence.

A rap at his door made Landon flinch out of his thoughts. The door to his room opened and he turned to come face to face with his identical twin.

"Do you not know how to answer your phone?" Brandon asked, an unimpressed glare on his face. Landon blinked at him, still processing the newly attainted information. Bran's eyes fell on the bouquet and jacket on the bed. "Oh, you got more?"

"What?" Landon said, flatly. Brandon rolled his eyes with a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Mum and Dad called." He began. "They called you first, but you didn't pick up—so they called me. We're going to London for dinner." He said.

"Um," Landon paused, shaking his head. "I didn't realise they called. When are we going?" He asked.

"Tonight."

"Tonight!?" Landon shouted. Brandon winced at that and nodded, rubbing his ear.

"Yes, tonight. We're staying for two days. So pack up." He instructed and stepped out of the door.

"Wait but—" the door was slammed on his face. Landon huffed and turned his attention back to the goodies on his bed. He stared at it for a moment longer—his mind blank and heart heavy.

Maybe this is a big prank to mess with his head.

Yeah, Jeremy is playing him.

....

Jeremy is having a particularly good day.

Firstly, he got to talk to his kukolka and tease him. Secondly, he managed to get the gifts on time to Landon's room. Thirdly, for the first time, he left a note. Now, he is sure Landon has figured out who is admirer is.

The thought made him smile again. Imagine the absolute horror on his face when all the pieces clicks in his head.

"C'mon, baby, how am I gonna survive two days without you?" Jeremy paused when he heard Nikolai's voice. He followed it into the kitchen and saw that his best friend was on the phone—a pout on his face.

Jeremy made himself look busy as he silently listened—pouring himself some water. Nikolai had to be on the phone with Brandon.

"Can't old man invite me for dinner too?" Nikolai asked. Jeremy tried to keep his expression neutral as he took a slow sip out of his water.

"Fine," Nikolai grumbled. "But the moment you come back, you're coming to the penthouse." He said. Brandon probably agreed because a smile broke out on Niko's face. "Okay. Bye, my lotus flower. Have fun!" He hung up with a smile.

"Wassup?" Jeremy asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Nikolai sighed dramatically and looked at him.

"Oh, Jer, Bran is leaving." He pouted, crossing his arms. Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

"To where?"

"A family dinner in London." He sighed. Jeremy paused midway of taking another sip.

"Family dinner?" He echoed. Nikolai nodded, taking Jeremy's glass and drinking the rest of the water from it.

"Yeah, they're leaving tonight and won't be back till Sunday evening," he said. Jeremy managed a small hum.

"So, Landon would be going with him as well." He stated rather than asked. Nikolai gave him a confused look but nodded, setting down the glass.

"Yeah, it's a family dinner, Jer." Niko said. "Glyn's going too."

Jeremy nodded again. But that won't do—he can't just let Landon go like that. Not after the move he did today and without getting a response. That, too, for two days.

Suddenly, an idea formed in his head, and his gaze fell on an innocent Niko munching on some macarons Brandon had left for him.

"And you're just gonna let him?" Jeremy asked. Nikolai looked at him, confusion written all across his face.

"What?"

"I mean, Niko, you can't even stay ten minutes away from Brandon." Jeremy said. He should feel bad that he is using Niko, but it's beneficial for both of them, so he really doesn't. "How are you gonna survive two days?"

"I know, Jer!" Nikolai exclaimed. "But what can I even do?" He huffed.

"Crash the dinner." Jeremy said. Nikolai paused and stared at him with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe that Jeremy had just said that.

"Huh?"

"I mean, nothing is exactly wrong with it." He shrugged. "No one is gonna get hurt, and you're basically family."

"Yeah, but," Nikolai sighed. "Bran wouldn't like that, I think."

"I think he wouldn't mind." Jeremy said. Nikolai stared at him for a second.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Jeremy nodded. "I'll tell Ilya to get the tickets."

"Okay," Niko exhaled, a sparkle in his eyes. "But why are you coming?" He asked, tilting his head. Jeremy paused momentarily before pulling confidence onto his face again.

"To make sure you don't get murdered by Mr. King." He said. Nikolai nodded, and a smirk fell on his face.

"Excellent argument." He pumped his fists together. "Let's go crash a family dinner!" He whooped. Jeremy just smirked.

....

"We're so glad you guys could make it on time!" Astrid's warm voice filled the living room of their mansion. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you three!" She pulled them three into a group hug as they tried to huddle in.

"So are we!" Another voice called from the entrance, and all five heads snapped to look at the newcomers. Brandon's jaw dropped when he saw his boyfriend and his best friend standing at the entrance of their living room. Levi King's eyes widened, and Astrid's mouth fell open in confusion. Meanwhile, Glyn let out a surprised gasp as Landon tried to process the sight in front of him.

"Nikolai!" Brandon called. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"You know I can't stay without you, lotus flower." Niko grinned as he and Jeremy walked closer to the family.

"Pathetic." Landon said, crossing his arms, trying very hard not to look at Jeremy. Jeremy, on the other hand, couldn't keep his eyes off him.

"He is just a man in love, kukolka." He said. Nikolai looked at him funny as he used the nickname. A light blush creeped up Landon's face as the man shamelessly used the damned petname in front of his family.

"Uh, who are you, dear?" Astrid voiced out, confused. Nikolai threw an arm around Jeremy's shoulder.

"He is my best bro, Jeremy." Niko grinned. "I've told you about him before, Astrid." He said.

"Oh, yes!" Recognition flickered across her face. "Nice to meet you, dear." She smiled. Levi, who was standing silently seething, decided to speak.

"Why are you here?" He asked. Landon glanced at him, trying to keep his face blank. He might have an idea why.

"I came to take something of mine." Jeremy replied, smiling.

"What?" Everyone said together—even Nikolai. Landon's eyebrows furrowed as he blinked at Jeremy, who was staring back at him.

"What's of yours that's here, Jeremy?" Glyndon asked, tilting her head. Jeremy turned to her and smiled.

"I'll show you." He then walked closer towards Astrid and Landon and stopped in front of them. "Mrs. King, if you'll please step aside—"

"Oh, yes, sure." Astrid quickly took a step back, giving him enough space. Landon stared at him with a bewildered expression.

"What are you—" he began to say but was cut off when he was swept off his feet and thrown over Jeremy's shoulder. "Bloody hell!" Landon clutched his shirt not to double over, but the strong grip Jeremy had on his waist and legs would've prevented him anyway.

"What the f—" Brandon slapped a hand over Nikolai's mouth to stop him sputtering curses. Astrid and Levi looked as if they had been slapped across their faces, and Jeremy turned towards the stairs with Landon still thrown over his shoulder. Glyndon's eyes were as wide as saucers, and her mouth hung open. Meanwhile, Brandon stifled his laugh despite the disbelief in his eyes.

"Jeremy, put me down!" Landon shouted as he hit his back and kicked his stomach. Jeremy chuckled as he kept a firm grip on Lan's legs to stop them. As soon as the two of them were out of sight, Levi King got out of his stupor and turned to Nikolai.

"What the hell, Nikolai!?" He shouted. Niko put up his hands in surrender and stepped back.

"I'm as confused and shocked as you are, sir!"

....

Jeremy put Landon down on his feet the moment he closed the door behind them. Landon huffed and glared at him with crossed arms.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked. Jeremy chuckled and stepped closer until their chests brushed against each other's.

"Don't act like you don't know why I'm here, kukolka." He smirked, tilting his head—a silent challenge in his stormy eyes.

"I don't." Landon gritted out—his glare dark and fiery. Jeremy's smirk widened, amusement spreading across his face.

"Did you eat the chocolates?" Jeremy asked. Landon froze, his jaw clenching.

"What chocolates?" He asked instead. Jeremy resisted an eyeroll and leaned in closer until he could feel Landon's warm breath against his face.

"Don't fuck with me, baby." He whispered. Landon's eyes widened for a fraction of second and if Jeremy hadn't been so close—he would've missed it.

"Why are you doing this?" Landon asked despite himself. Jeremy tilted his head.

"Doing what?" He asked, "Courting you?"

Landon nodded making him chuckle. "Why do you think, kukla?" He asked. Landon pursed his lips as he debated whether to say it. At last, he spoke, after searching Jeremy's eyes.

"To fuck with me." Landon said. Jeremy's eyes narrowed and he huffed, looking at Landon as if he said something that personally offended him. Maybe he did.

"You think I would buy you flowers and your favourite food to fuck with you?" He asked. Landon shrugged—that's exactly what he thought. Jeremy sighed.

"Baby," Landon throat bobbed when Jeremy spoke in that low husky tone of his. The new petname made Landon feel things that he'd never admit out loud.

He shouldn't be liking that.

"I'm not a fucking idiot to do such things." Jeremy spoke. "I did that because I'm serious about you. I'm gonna keep doing that until you accept my courting." His voice didn't carry space for argument.

"I—" Landon cut himself off and shook his head. "But why?" He asked again. "You hate me."

Jeremy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I did. Not anymore."

"So, what do you feel now?" Landon asked, because he is confused. He is so damn confused on why Jeremy of all people is courting him.

"Take a wild fucking guess, baby." Jeremy chuckled. "I want you, kukolka."

Landon felt his throat go dry at that, and he stared up at Jeremy with the widest of eyes. "What?" He blurted out.

Jeremy shook his head with a small smile. But that smile quickly turned into a smirk instead as he leaned in closer. "Actually, you're already mine. You just need to accept it."

Landon's eyes narrowed as he huffed—turning his head and pretending that this situation wasn't getting to him.

"I'm not yours." He said, looking to his right. Jeremy raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

"Say that again," he challenged. "But look at me when you do it."

Landon turned a sharp, defiant glare at him. He stared at Jeremy’s smug face and opened his mouth to say the words.

"I'm—mmph!" He was cut off when Jeremy's lips crashed into his in a possesive kiss. He stumbled, but Jeremy instantly caught him by the waist, pulling him flush against his hard chest—all while keeping his lips attached to Landon's, sucking and biting.

Landon's hands shot up to grab his shoulders, and Jeremy tilted his head, trying to get more access. Landon's body burned up at each nip and bite Jeremy left on his lips, and he felt as if his insides were on fire. Landon, despite himself, let out a breathy moan when Jeremy's tongue entered into his mouth.

Jeremy kissed him as if he was his possesion—his very own prize.

It wasn't gentle because he knew Landon didn't prefer gentle. It was a kiss that made Landon dizzy—possibly the best kiss he has ever had. Not that he has kissed many on the mouth.

He felt his lungs burn up from the lack of oxygen, but Jeremy didn't seem like he was going to stop, and Landon wasn't just about to let him dominate him like that. He gripped Jeremy’s hair and tugged as he kissed him back with the same fervour.

Jeremy groaned into his mouth as Landon's grip on his hair tightened, and as if fighting back—Jeremy's hands around Landon's waist tightened as well, keeping him rooted in place.

When they finally pulled back—breathless and hot—Landon slapped Jeremy on the face. Jeremy's eyes widened, and Landon could feel Jeremy's erection twitching, pressed up against his front.

"Did you just slap me?" Jeremy stared at him with narrowed eyes. Landon crossed his arms and huffed while his face was flushed and lips were swollen.

"You kissed me!" He accused. Jeremy gritted his teeth but paused at the sight. Landon King—his kukolka—looked absolutely breathtaking. His pupils were blown wide, and he was still breathing heavily. His gorgeous face was flushed a light shade of red, and his lips—those pretty lips Jeremy just devoured—looked so swollen and red that Jeremy wanted to bite them again.

So, he did.

Landon winced as Jeremy bit down on his bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood. He gripped Jeremy’s shoulders when the mafia prince licked up the blood from his lips with a swipe of his tongue.

Then, the man had the audacity to grin at him.

Motherfucker.

"All fucking mine." Jeremy said—pressing a kiss to his jaw. Landon huffed and shoved his face away. But before he could say anything—Jeremy pressed his index finger to his lips. "Don't you dare deny it." He warned.

Landon's mouth snapped shut at the command. Jeremy's mouth, however, lifted up to a smirk before pressing a trail of light kisses down his jaw.

"Jeremy," Landon mumbled. "Stop that!" He said, trying to step back from him, but Jeremy grabbed his waist again, not letting him.

"I've waited too fucking long for this, kukolka." He said. "I'm taking what's mine." Landon's eyes widened, and he shoved at Jeremy’s chest.

"My parents are downstairs!" He said. Jeremy smirked, leaning closer.

"You mean my in-laws?"

"Jeremy!" Landon blushed as he hit his chest once more, while Jeremy laughed at his red face.

Oh, Jeremy is going to enjoy this so damn much.

Chapter Text

What am I doing? Landon thought to himself as he sat crouched behind a rather large bush.

Students ran around the dark forest in a frenzy, some dazed or limping from injuries. There were flashes of neon lights—exuding from the members’ masks—followed by the sound of their weapons and the screams of the students. The distorted voice kept calling out the eliminated numbers, 54…27…68…

Landon’s nose wrinkled behind the hideous rabbit mask perched on his face with the combined stench of blood and the various scents of the passing students.

He adjusted his stance as he saw Red Mask beat up someone with his bat as the student tried his very best to dodge the attacks—failing utterly.

The Initiation. It is a game hosted by the founding members of the Heathens, where they recruit new members to join their club. But the truth remains a fact that this so-called initiation is just a ploy to satisfy the bloodthirst of the members as well as their need for violence.

A game Landon had found both idiotic and mediocre.

Yet, here he was, in the very middle of this, hiding like a scared initiate behind a damn bush.

Except, Landon wasn’t scared. Why the hell would he be? This is way beneath him.

Then why are you here, Landon?

Good question. Landon is here because of a text. The moment he had gotten the invitation, he laughed out loud and stared at the screen—plotting the demise of the person who had the nerve to send him that.

Honestly, him—Landon motherfucking King—being a willing participant in someone else’s act for glory? The thought was hilarious at best.

But he isn’t laughing now, is he?

Landon had moved to delete that message but that was when he got the next text.

Unknown
You better be seen at the initiation if you don’t want your twin brother’s head displayed to the initiates.

His blood boiled as he read over that message. With darkened eyes and underlying fear, he had called his twin brother. Multiple times—yet Bran never picked up.

So, here he was, in the middle of a blood bath—trying to get a whiff of his twin’s calming scent of lotus flower, green tea and the slightest hint of water lily.

Landon adjusted his jacket, covering himself up more. His scent was hidden with many scent blockers and suppressants he has been using to pass as a beta instead of the truth of his nature—an omega.

He hid his status the moment he presented. While the Kings were proud to have two twin omegas after three generations—Landon wasn’t. Thus, he hid his status and instead, tried his very best to pass as a beta.

It worked like a charm. Some even thought he was an alpha. No one really knew his scent except his family and pack, and he intended to keep it that way.

Landon’s heart picked up its pace, and he felt his body freeze. Petrichor. He knew that scent so well that sometimes he could smell it even when he wasn’t there.

“Well, what do we have here?” a deep voice said behind him. Landon turned his head, looking up. Harsh orange neon light stared back at him. In the middle of the crossed stitch lines, stormy grey eyes glinted with something akin to amusement.

Jeremy Volkov towered over him in all his impossible presence. His alluring scent hits Landon in the face—almost making him lose his balance. Petrichor. Bergamot. Wood.

His blood-stained golf club rested lazily on his shoulder. Accompanied by the tilt of his head and his relaxed posture—Jeremy looked almost bored. Landon forced down a gulp as he stood to his feet, facing Jeremy with his usual display of easy arrogance and defiance.

“Which one of you sent me that text?” Landon asked, keeping his tone calm and low—pretending that Jeremy’s overwhelming scent wasn’t clouding his mind. He made sure to sound and look unaffected as he kept his glare directed towards the alpha.

Jeremy chuckled—a deep resonating sound that caused Landon’s heart to stumble. The alpha stepped closer—urging Landon to take a step back. Jeremy didn’t stop his advancing until he had Landon pinned to the tree right next to the bush he was hiding moments ago.

“What makes you think one of us did?” he asked, his tone mocking and dangerous. He knew what Jeremy was playing at. Landon scoffed as he tried to seem unfazed by their proximity.

“Do you take me for an idiot, Volkov?” Landon’s accented deep voice spat out the words. “You basically just confirmed that it was you who did it.”

Jeremy’s reaction was immediate—a rich laugh that made the walls of Landon’s lungs clench. He exhaled, feeling close to lightheaded because of the way Jeremy’s scent clung to him. He mentally prided himself on not forgetting to wear his blockers. Or else Jeremy would’ve been able to smell the effect he was having on him.

“I would never underestimate you, King.” Jeremy’s Russian accent is thick—a reminder of his roots. “But I can’t help but realise how predictable you can be at times,” his tone is mocking—daring Landon to retort.

So he does.

“Involving my brother to get back at me is crass even for your standards, Volkov.” Landon gritted out. Then, a smirk lifted his lips as his head cocked to the side. “If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just said so.”

Jeremy’s eyes darkened and his hand moved to grab Landon's throat. Landon tensed under his touch, and he was sure Jeremy could feel the quickening beat of his pulse.

"Why would I let a beta distract me?" Jeremy asked coolly, his grip tightening around Landon's neck—not squeezing. Yet.

Landon was going to retort with something narcissistic as usual, but then he remembered why he was here. He scowled, his hands gripping the hand Jeremy was close to choking him with.

"Where the fuck is my brother, Volkov?" Landon sneered. Landon could feel the smirk under his orange mask as he leaned closer. The air around them shifted, and he could smell the amusement lingering in the petrichor of Jeremy’s scent.

"I'll let you know—" Jeremy whispered next to his ear. "—if you win this game." Landon tensed, his close proximity messing up his mind, and he couldn't smell anything except the sweet smell of petrichor and the balancing hint of bergamot.

Every note of his scent painfully reminded him of the alpha pressed on him with a tight grip on his throat.

Everything impossibly Jeremy.

"You think I would willingly be a Heathen?" Landon scoffed. His hands were still wrapped around Jeremy's hand, while the mafia prince kept a firm grip on his throat.

"It's not like you would win." Jeremy whispered, his tone sounding intimate in the cold night. Landon's jaw clenched at the assumption. Jeremy brought out his competitive nature in full force.

"Oh, then I would be happy to prove you wrong." Landon scowled under the mask. Jeremy chuckled again, leaning closer. His head dipped, and he squeezed his throat. Landon held back a gasp as he inhaled sharply.

"Then, run kukolka," Jeremy whispered next to his ear—his breath hot against Landon's skin. "And make sure I don't catch you."

Landon felt his body heat up at the words. For a second, Jeremy tensed against him—his grip loosening as well. Before Landon could think about it, Jeremy pulled back slightly, his grip on his throat tightening again. Landon stared at him with a defiant glare—as defiant as it could get wearing a bunny mask and being pinned to a tree.

"And what will you do if you catch me?" Landon asked, holding his head high even though his voice came out with a slight shake. The alpha huffed amused, releasing his hold on his throat and stepping back.

"You'll find out soon enough." He smirked. "Now, run."

....

Landon doesn't know why he obeyed. Perhaps it's the commanding tone Jeremy had used. Maybe it's the way his scent had spiked and made Landon’s brain short-circuit. Or maybe, it had been the power imbalance between them. Whatever it is the reason—Landon obeyed Jeremy.

He zoomed past the towering trees, manoeuvring through his way in the dark forest. He doesn’t know if he is going the right way. He has no clue if he would find his twin brother. Hell, he doubted if Brandon is even here. But he knows one thing. He knows who is chasing him.

Jeremy Volkov—his enemy and the most feared alpha in the island—is chasing him like a predator.

And Landon?

Landon is running like Jeremy’s personal prey. His own little doll to mess with.

Landon huffed and puffed as he ran. He could hear the thuds of Jeremy’s footsteps. He could smell the amusement dripping off his petrichor scent. He could also smell something else. Something a bit more smoky and seductive.

Jeremy’s scent was everywhere. In every intake of his breath, Landon smelled him. It clouded his mind and messed with his emotions. Landon was sure that his adrenaline rush and the heat of Jeremy’s scent will weaken the effect of his blockers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He chanted in his mind as he kept his pace up. Sweat trickled down his forehead and Landon was beginning to feel lightheaded—by both his speed and his enemy's scent.

All of a sudden, the air was knocked out of his lungs, and the ground tilted as Landon hit the floor. He grunted, his hand coming to clutch his side. The mask fell off his face, and Jeremy looked down on him.

Landon growled as he stretched his leg and hooked it around Jeremy's leg before tugging. A grunt was forced out of the alpha as he stumbled, falling to his side. The mask broke as he hit face down. Landon rolled onto his stomach and stood up—his jacket dirtied. Jeremy took off the cracked mask, a trickle of blood forming on the side of his lips.

Landon's lips lifted in a smirk at the sight of the blood. He straddled Jeremy’s lap and grabbed his throat in both of his hands.

"Tell me where my brother is." Landon demanded as he squeezed Jeremy’s throat. Jeremy's jaw clenched and he brought up his hands to grip Landon’s hips. The scent of arousal hit Landon in the face.

It came from Jeremy.

Pushing that revelation to the back of his mind, he gripped tighter. "Answer me, Volkov." He sneered. Jeremy smirked as if his windpipes weren't forcefully closing in.

"You make such a tempting sight, kukolka." Jeremy purred. Heat rose to Landon's face and some even when to his groin. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he glared down at the alpha. "Say, do you straddle all of your enemies like this or do I get the special treatment?"

Landon tightened his grip at his sly tone. His inner omega was going bonkers but the suppressants helped him keep it at bay. Jeremy's expression shifted slightly—his nose twitching.

In the blink of an eye, Jeremy switched their position. Landon's grip on his throat fell as he was pinned to the ground with Jeremy pressing him down. One hand held a bruising grip on his hip, while the other rested firmly against the ground near Landon's head. He struggled against him but Jeremy’s weight pressed him down.

"What are you hiding, kukolka?" Jeremy whispered, dangerously close to his ear. Landon's body went rigid for a hot second, before fury and panic rose in his chest and he recovered. Landon brought up his arm and jabbed at his throat. Jeremy grunted, his grip loosening, and Landon took the opportunity to kick him off. Landon stood to his feet and grabbed Jeremy's discarded club in hand.

"One last chance, Volkov." He breathed out. He pointed the club at Jeremy, who stared up at him with a cunning smirk. "Where the fuck is my brother?" He made sure to emphasise each word as he asked.

"Probably on Nikolai's lap." Jeremy smirked up at him. Landon's eyes widened and he gripped the club. His body trembled in anger and his eyes darkened. With an angry snarl, Landon brought down the club on Jeremy, hitting his face. Jeremy's head lolled to the side as he spat out blood.

"Fuck you." Landon spat and threw the club at his feet before running off to find that embecile by the name Nikolai Sokolov.

He is going home with Brandon, no matter what.

Unbeknownst to him, dark grey eyes watched him run off with a smirk adorning his bloodied lips.

....

Jeremy should've left it alone.

He shouldn't have come here—especially when there is a chance security might catch him. He should be the rational and responsible one.

He shouldn't be doing something this reckless over a scent he caught when he had Landon pinned to the tree.

When he first caught the whiff of a floral note—too close to water lily—he thought he was hallucinating. Because Landon never produced his pheromones. Jeremy had always found that suspicious, but since betas usually have neutral and faint scents, he figured flaunting it doesn't make much difference.

But for someone as cocky and confident as Landon King, it was a bit suspicious.

The scent blockers must've been wearing off because Jeremy had smelled something again when he had Landon straddling his lap.

It was sweet and almost sensual. Something close to vanilla.

Not a beta's scent.

When Landon had left him bleeding, Jeremy pondered on this. After all, a beta twin for an omega one was suspicious in itself. Unlikely.

So, here Jeremy is, outside the window of Landon's bedroom in the Elites mansion while the Kings and Astor are visiting London. It had been a week since the initiation, and today was the perfect opportunity to learn some interesting factors about his sneaky beta enemy.

Jeremy’s gloved hand worked with the lock of the window, and he pushed it open with a victorious smirk.

Okay, now don't ask how he climbed up to here. It was the adrenaline rush.

Anyway, Jeremy entered the room carefully and closed the window. Suddenly, he stumbled back at the lingering scent that hit him straight in the face. Jeremy steadied himself, his mind racing to figure out what he was smelling.

Waterlily, vanilla, and the faintest note of lotus flower.

Jeremy’s mind blanked the moment he registered the scents. That did not smell like a beta. It was sweet, sensual, and alluring like an omega's. Jeremy forced down a gulp. Unless Landon has an omega living in his room, that scent definitely belonged to him.

This means his supposed beta enemy—his obsession that has been plaguing his mind—is an omega.

Jeremy leaned against the wall, bracing himself. Landon is an omega. The three King omegas born after three generations are all Levi King's children. And Landon King is one of them.

Jeremy scanned the room before walking towards the set of drawers. He pulled open one of them and rummaged through the items. Patch suppressants and scent blockers. Expensive ones.

He shut the drawer and walked into Landon's walk-in closet. The cupboards were filled with expensive designer clothes. Jeremy resisted an eye roll and walked to the drawers. He pulled one set out and closed it the moment he saw the variety of watches. He pulled another one open and paused to look through it.

Omega's nesting items. There were various clothes that had different lingering scents on them, belonging to Landon's pack for sure.

It is confirmed now. Landon King is an omega. Jeremy found out his dirty little secret.

And he knows exactly what to do with it.

....

The first thing Landon noticed when he got back home was the lingering alpha pheromones inside his room.

Petrichor.

Jeremy fucking Volkov.

The first thing he felt was anger. How dare he break into his bedroom? His safe place—the place where he nests and gets to be his true self.

The next emotions that passed through him were panic and fear. If Jeremy had been here, then that means he knows something he shouldn't. He is an intelligent man—no matter how many times Landon calls him stupid. Jeremy would be able to figure it out with a single sniff of his scent. Not to mention, the items in his room could also give it away.

"Oh, no, no, no—" Landon groaned as he rubbed his face with his hands harshly. "Shit!" He hit the wall in his frustration.

He flinched when the door opened behind him, and he quickly turned to come face to face with his twin brother. Worry and confusion were etched on Brandon's features. "Um, Lan?" He called with uncertainty in his voice.

"What's wrong?" Landon forced his voice to a calm neutral one even though his mind was stumbling over itself.

No. Control yourself, Lan.

"Wear your patches and—um—come downstairs." Brandon said before closing the door. Landon tilted his head, staring at the closed door, confused.

Then he sighed, gritted his teeth, and forced his mind blank—slipping into his control again. He wore his scent blockers and walked out of the room—descending the steps. He managed to hear a line of the conversation going on.

"What is that supposed to mean?" His cousin, Eli, shouted—his scent emmiting frustrated alpha pheromones. Landon could also smell the protective note on his scent as well.

"I seriously don't know what to tell you." An unfamiliar voice spoke. Landon's eyebrows furrowed as he stepped into the lavish living room of their mansion. "Trust me, King, I'm as confused as you are."

Ilya Levitsky was in his mansion. Why? Landon has no clue. He stared at the beta—Jeremy’s trusted guard—in confusion. He glanced at everyone else in the room.

Brandon looked horrified. Creighton looked confused. Remington had a shit-eating grin on his face, looking ever amused. Eli was fuming. And the reason for all these display of emotions—Ilya—looked very tired.

"What the hell is going on?" Landon asked, making his presence known. Everyone's head snapped towards him, and Ilya let out a long sigh.

"Finally," he grumbled and walked towards him, holding out a huge bouquet of red and black roses that Landon hadn't noticed before. Landon blinked at the bouquet bigger than his torso and looked at Ilya again.

"What the fuck." Landon said, blunt and dry. His face screamed confusion and he was sure he heard Remi snort. Ilya rolled his eyes.

"It's not from me." He said, dryly. "It's the Russian alpha way of courting someone. Instead of approaching their desired omega or—well—beta, they send someone they trust to do it first." Ilya explained like a tired college teacher. Landon blinked at him again.

"Jeremy Volkov is trying to court you, Lannie," Remi approached him, smirking and throwing a hand over his shoulder. Landon's brain short-circuited. His body tensed and his heart began to pick up pace.

"What?" He said again, dumbly. Ilya pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling before looking at him again.

"Please take the damn flowers, it's heavy." He supplied. Landon nodded, his face still blank and mind running circles. He took the bouquet and yes, it was heavy. Landon tried to speak.

"Jeremy is—" Landon cut himself off, letting out a stuttering breath. Eli grumbled under his breath and Remi squeezed his shoulder.

"Yes, he is courting you." Ilya sighed. "Usually, by the mafia rules, it should be either Nikolai or Vaughn giving you the first gift, but since your situation is—" he cleared his throat. "—intresting, they'd refuse, so I'm obliged to do it."

"Right." Landon nodded, staring down at the bouquet. His cheeks blushed a bright shade of red as he registered what was happening. Jeremy was courting him. After finding out he is an omega, instead of revealing it to the world—like Landon thought he would—he is now courting him Russian Bratva style.

What the fuck.

Landon felt like the world was tilting on its axis, his thoughts spiralling. A part of him wanted to give this back to Ilya and tell him to tell Jeremy to fuck himself but another part of him kind of wanted this. His grip on the bouquet tightened at that thought.

"Well, on that note, I'm leaving." Ilya said and gave them a mock salute before walking out of the mansion, unbothered. Landon heaved out a choked exhale, a momentary relief overtaking him as Ilya left.

"Landon." Eli's voice cut through the silence—breaking it. Landon sighed and turned to his alpha cousin. "What the hell was that about?"

"I don't know." Landon said, flatly. Eli's fists clenched, and Creighton stepped closer.

"What do you mean you don’t know?" Creighton pressed, arms crossing over his chest. Landon pursed his lips, and Remington pulled away from him.

"It means I don't know, Creigh." Landon said. Brandon sighed and tugged at the hair behind his neck.

"Why is Jeremy of all people courting you?" Brandon asked, eyebrows furrowed in his usual way. "Does he know?"

"What? No!" Landon's reply was almost too quick. Too loud. Eli's eyes squinted in that infuriating way. Landon rolled his eyes and held the large bouquet closer to his chest. "I seriously don't know. I'll find out what's going on."

He will. He needed to.

....

Landon's McLaren pulled to a stop in the King's U parking lot. It was the dismissal time, and he waited to see a familiar face walk out. After all, he had parked his car right in front of Jeremy’s Ducati.

Landon smirked when he saw the alpha walk towards the parking area, a leather jacket over his black turtleneck. Alone. With an amused scoff, Landon got out of the car and leaned against it with crossed arms.

He saw Jeremy halt for a moment when their eyes met. Landon made sure to keep his face blank and neutral as Jeremy approached. As soon as Jeremy was close enough for the sweet scent of petrichor to cloud his senses, Landon spoke.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Jeremy blinked at him—feigning innocence.

"Going to my bike?" He suggested, shrugging. Landon exhaled through his nose, jaw set.

"I'm talking about the flowers, Jeremy." The name rolled off his tongue like sweet honey. Jeremy closed his eyes for a second, a small smile on his face before looking at him again.

"Did you like them?" He asked. Landon stared at him, baffled. Then, he shook his head with a click of his tongue.

"That's besides the point!"

"That is the point, kukolka." Jeremy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Landon couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"Don't call me that." He gritted out. Jeremy chuckled and stepped closer, leaning in. Landon glared at him, but not with the usual cutting heat.

"I think I'll call you whatever I want, baby." He whispered. Landon's adam's apple bopped up and down as he swallowed. The smell of petrichor and bergamot did very little to calm his racing heart. Then, with a smirk, Jeremy reached into his back pocket. "I actually have something for you." He said.

Landon watched—muted—as Jeremy pulled out a small black box. He stared at Jeremy’s face, eyes wide and cheeks ablaze. Jeremy grinned at him and opened the box, revealing a layered silver chain. Jeremy took it out of the box and held it up to him. Landon stared at the beautiful, delicate chain with parted lips. The upper string had small intricate details, while the lower chain had pretty diamond stones embedded on it. The two chains are pulled together in a silver bold 'V'—which Landon assumed is for Volkov.

"It's a waist chain." Jeremy said, a light smile on his face. Landon felt as if the world did fucking backflips. Because, what the fuck. Is this man serious?

"What?" Landon heaved out, his voice breathless and face hot. Jeremy chuckled and grabbed his waist, pulling him flush against him. Landon held in a gasp as his hands held onto Jeremy’s shoulders. Jeremy slowly lifted the maroon sweater Landon was wearing and brought the chain around his waist. Landon watched Jeremy’s concentrated face, felt the hot touch of his fingers, and smelled the petrichor in his scent. Landon looked down at himself when Jeremy locked the chain. The 'V' rested against his bellybutton, and the sight turned his insides into warm jelly.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He hissed, pushing Jeremy off. The alpha stumbled, not expecting the sudden shove. Landon crossed his arms over himself as he glared. "Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Do you have an omega fetish?"

Jeremy sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at Landon pulling his sweater down and hiding that beautiful sight.

"Listen, kukolka," he began. Landon's jaw clenched again at the pet name. "Russian alphas don't usually court betas. So, I didn’t know what to do. But now that I know that you're an omega, it makes things different." He explained, one shoulder lifting.

Landon forced out a huge sigh, trying to get a hold of himself and not feel like his inner omega was preening at the gifts and attention.

"How is it different?" Landon asked, his tone urgent. "We hate each other!" He exclaimed. Jeremy smirked and stepped closer again, his face centimetres apart from Landon's.

"Do we?" He whispered in that seductive husky tone of his. Landon resisted the urge to just fall into him and glared.

"Yes." He gritted out. Jeremy's smirk only widened at that. Oh, how much Landon wanted to punch that off his face.

"In that case," he said, leaning back and giving Landon some space not to spiral. "This new bakery opened up, and I heard their shortcakes are delicious. If you come with me, I'll buy you a cherry one." Jeremy said, smiling.

Landon blinked. Once. Twice. Did this alpha just ask him out? With a frustrated groan, Landon shoved at his chest again as Jeremy broke out into a laugh.

"What the hell, Jeremy!"

Chapter Text

Jeremy sighes for the nth time in that past hour. He puts his phone on his chest and turns to look at his boyfriend.

Landon is sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, as he sketches something on his book. He has been drawing and keeping his attention on that thing for almost an hour, and Jeremy is getting tired of it. He stares at his concentrated face—the light furrow of his eyebrows and the small pout of his lips. Jeremy's gaze lingers on his sharp jawline and his straight nose.

With another sigh, Jeremy turns his body and props himself up on his elbow and looks at Landon. "Baby," he calls.

Landon hums, briefly glancing at him before looking down at his book again. Jeremy lets out a low groan, scooting closer to him.

"You've been sketching for approximately fifty-seven minutes." He says. Landon turns his head to look at him with a surprised expression.

"You were counting?" His pretty boyfriend asks, disbelief evident in his tone. Jeremy nods as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

"Obviously." He grumbles. "You're supposed to be giving me attention." He says, his lips forming into a pout. Landon stares at his lips for a moment before sighing—a smile gracing his own lips.

"You can't be serious right now." Landon says, looking at him fondly. His pencil hovers over his sketchbook.

"I'm dead serious." Jeremy counters, looking as serious as he said. Usually, Jeremy has to pry Landon off with how clingy and demanding his kukolka got, but now Jeremy is begging him for his attention.

"I'll give you my attention after I finish this," Landon says, leaning down to kiss his forehead before going back to his drawing. Jeremy groans again, falling on his back.

"What are you sketching anyway?" Jeremy asks, his voice getting louder—showing his frustration. Landon exhales, glancing at his whining boyfriend.

"You, dumbarse." Landon says, rolling his eyes. Jeremy perks up at that, sitting up and looking at the sketchbook. Sure enough, there he was—looking detailed and realistic. It is a portrait of Jeremy, up to his hip. Each of his tattoos is captured and drawn perfectly, almost looking like a printout of the real deal. Landon usually did rough drawings before moving to sculpt it in detail—but today, he drew it very detailed. Jeremy stares at it, once again in awe at how perfect and talented his boyfriend is. Landon is only beginning to draw his arms, though.

Even when he isn't giving Jeremy his attention—he is doing something related to him.

"But don't you need to look at me when you're drawing me?" Jeremy asks, his head tilted. Landon grins at him, bringing his hand up to flick his chin.

"I have every inch of you memorised and seered into my brain," he says, eliciting a wide smile out of Jeremy. "I don't need to look at you to draw, sweetheart."

"Well," Jeremy begins, blushing despite himself. He leans closer, his breath fanning against Landon's cheek. "It almost seems like you're in love with me." He grins at Landon's laugh.

"Jeremy, sweetheart, I'm way beyond in love." He says, pecking his lips. "I'm obsessed with you, through and through." Lan says, a strange sincerity in his tone.

Jeremy’s grin widens at that. His voice drops to a low seductive murmer as he speaks again. "Maybe I should show you just how obsessed I am too," he purrs.

"No," Landon says, smirking. "Not until I finish this." He points at his drawing. He chuckles at Jeremy’s groan. The mafia prince huffs, throwing his head down on Landon's lap. Lan stares at him amused as the most feared man in Brighton Island whines for his boyfriend's attention.

"Come on, baby," he whines. "Don't I deserve your attention?" Jeremy asks, looking at him.

"Jer," Landon sighs. "Please, let me draw." He says, his face pulling into his best 'Jeremy would never resist this' look. Jeremy looks at him in conflict before grumbling something under his breath.

"Don't look at me like that." He mutters, glaring at him with no real heat behind his stare. Landon giggles, running a hand through Jeremy's hair.

"Please, sweetheart?" He pleads. "You're making your gorgeous boyfriend plead." Lan pouts.

"And you're ignoring your boyfriend." Jeremy counters, scowling. Landon lets out an exasperated sigh before putting his pencil and sketchbook away.

"Okay, fine, you clingy little shit, you have my attention." Landon crosses his arms, looking down at him. Jeremy grins and sits up before pulling Lan against him. Landon grunts before Jeremy lifts him and sets him down on his lap—manhandling him effortlessly.

"Finally," Jeremy exhales as Landon smiles. Landon cups his face and kisses him. Jeremy eagerly responds back, his arms protectively wrapping around Landon's waist as he shows him just how much he missed his attention. Landon moans against his lips as Jeremy's tongue slips into his mouth. The mafia prince smirks against his lips as Landon's hand creeps up to fist his hair.

"Jer, sweetheart," Lan whispers against his lips, and Jeremy sucks on his bottom lip, effectively shutting him up again. Heat rises up Landon's body as he feels Jeremy's hardening erection under him.

"You're so fucking perfect, kukolka," he murmers before traling his lips down Landon's jaw. Lan's head tilts back, allowing him more access. "I love you so much." He exhales against the curve of his throat.

"I love you more." Landon says, one hand gripping his hair and the other caressing his nape. Jeremy groans at the contrast.

"Doubt it." Jeremy smirks as he flips them so that Landon is under him as Jeremy presses open-mouthed kisses down Lan's throat. "Mine." He growls against his skin.

Landon chuckles, breathless. He pulls Jeremy up to kiss him, and Jeremy melts against his mouth, smiling. "Yours." Landon confirms.

Jeremy smirks and pecks his lips again before falling on him. Landon grunts, his arms wrapping around Jeremy's torso as his boyfriend digs his nose into the crook of Landon's neck. Warmth spreads through Landon's body as he hugs Jeremy closer, a smile on his face. Jeremy lets him, completely content with the position. He can feel Landon's heart beating against his—a gentle reminder that Lan will forever be his.

His kukolka.
His future.
The love of his life.

Chapter Text

Revenge.

A word Maya Sokolov is far too familiar with.

Growing up as a mafia princess, she has heard a lot of things—has seen a lot of things that are most of the time not normal for other kids her age.

Then again, she is not normal. Her family isn't normal, and her childhood friends aren't.

That's just the way it is in the Bratva.

Usually, she doesn't like to ponder on negative thoughts because it leads her to think about some other things she has buried deep within herself.

But stalking an elitist British man makes you contemplate plenty of things—the meaning of life itself, sometimes.

Not that she stalked people much. And no, social media stalking does not count.

Gripping the steering wheel of her Maserati, her eyes tracked the sleek black McLaren come to a stop in front of the dense woods on their right. She had intelligently chosen a spot where her car would be hidden but still could get a good view of the McLaren and its owner.

Oh, you know who she is talking about.

The devil's son, the narcissistic psychopath, the gifted sculptor.

Landon fucking King.

That's right. She is stalking Landon King, dead at night when she should be getting her beauty sleep.

The things she does for her little sister.

Oh, and older brother.

See, the thing is, Mia wanted revenge against Landon for hurting their brother Nikolai. While Maya completely shared the sentiment, she was reluctant to go against Landon King at first.

Seriously, the whole of Brighton Island fell to their knees to kiss his designer boots—and Mia wanted to bathe him in pig blood.

Wonderful.

After getting convinced by her twin sister, Maya agreed. Of course, Nikolai did not know about their plan. If he did, he wouldn't let them carry this out—despite being secretly proud because, come on, it's Nikolai.

Anyway, before carrying out their carefully crafted plan—they had to know more about Landon King, apart from the obvious and the rumours.

So that's why Maya is here. Mia couldn't make it because of an emergency. Maya has no clue what it is, but Mia had furiously signed something about an animal shelter and 'knights', so Maya just let her be.

Her careful eyes were stuck on every move Landon made. The man leaned on the bonnet of his car, a cigarette stick between his lips. It looked like he was waiting for someone.

Maya's eyes narrowed. But who? Who is Landon King meeting at this hour of night?

The sound of a bike's engine caught her attention. She watched as a lazy smirk lifted Landon's lips when the headlights of the approaching bike illuminated his figure. Maya waited for the motorcycle to appear, holding her breath.

Which was a bad idea because she choked on her breath when a familiar black Ducati Panigale came into view. Maya's heart thudded in her chest when the biker took off his helmet and glared at Landon with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

She squeaked. Jeremy. What the fuck is Jeremy doing here? Why is he alone? Where the hell are the others? Questions swarmed her brain, and she fought every urge not to walk out and demand answers.

Landon, however, did not seem fazed by the look on Jeremy's face. Instead, he looked ever amused—smirk wide and permanent.

"Decided to step out of your cave, darling?" Landon's tone was taunting and paired with that smirk, Maya knew it sent fury coursing through Jeremy's nerves. Jeremy got off the bike, stalking towards him in a way that made the hairs on Maya's neck stand.

"I warned you," Jeremy spoke, his tone heavy with a growl building up in his chest. "Nikolai—or any of my family—has nothing to do with us." He pointed a gloved finger at him.

Maya's face pulled into confusion. Us?

Landon scoffed. "It's not all about you, Jeremy." He said, dropping the cigarette stick. "Perhaps, I kidnapped Sokolov for a different reason." Landon lifted a carefree shoulder.

Jeremy's jaw clenched with tension. Even from inside her car, Maya could feel his anger. She gripped her steering wheel tighter as Jeremy spoke again.

"Don't fuck with me, Landon." He growled, his voice so deep that Maya felt a shiver run down her spine. That did not apply Landon—again—as he rolled his eyes.

"Maybe you should've done what I asked of you, sweetheart." Landon crossed his arms as he stared at Jeremy with a defiant glare—one that was sure to challenge him.

The chuckle that left Jeremy's lips was dark—failing to hide the anger rolling off him in waves. Maya swallowed, preparing to witness a fight.

The shit she does for her siblings.

Jeremy closed the distance between them while Landon stood rooted to his place with that same bored face. Maya held in a wince as Jeremy stopped right in front of Landon. Jeremy's large hand came to wrap around Landon's throat in a tight grip.

Maya saw how Landon's stance changed as he tried to seem unfazed by getting choked. Landon's glare was sharp and cutting, but Jeremy did not look like he cared. No, instead, he tightened his grip and stepped closer.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Maya's jaw dropped when Jeremy hoisted Landon up on the bonnet by his fucking waist, with his one hand still around Landon's neck.

Landon chocked out a gasp, his hands flying up to grab Jeremy's biceps. Jeremy leaned in closer, effectively keeping him pinned against the car. Then, he dipped his head and whispered something in Landon’s ear that made him turn a shade redder. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. But one thing was sure, that was not how enemies fought.

Not how anyone fought.

Maya's hand flew to cover her mouth so as to not scream—because Jeremy crashed his lips against Landon's in a harsh, bruising way. The grip on his throat loosened, but that didn't mean Jeremy was keeping Landon's oxygen intake restricted in other ways.

Maya's hands shook around the steering wheel as she watched the supposed enemies eat each other's mouths like starved men.

What the fuck.

What the fucking fuck.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing, she couldn't even breathe—because suddenly, it's her that's getting hot.

As if the situation couldn't get anymore worse, Jeremy brought down his arms and wrapped them possessively around Landon's slimmer waist—still keeping his mouth on his.

Oh sweet lord. Maya was sure she looked like a petrified statue as she kept staring. She couldn't tear her gaze away because, fuck, this was so hot.

Then—then, Landon King—mighty, devil prince, Mr. Better than everything on this planet, King—wrapped his legs around Jeremy's waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and whined into his mouth.

Maya almost fainted.

Did she just witness Jeremy fucking Volkov—her brother’s best friend—kiss his greatest enemy as if Landon King was his?

Yeah, fuck, she just did.

Landon's hands tugged on Jeremy's hair and one of Jeremy's hands slipped under his shirt, while the other still had a possesive grip on his waist.

Maya let out a stuttering breath, wildly shaking her head. She needed to get out of here.

Fast.

Chapter Text

Landon

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I registered was the marble floor. Then, the throbbing pain in the back of my neck and lastly, the restraints binding my wrists and legs.

You've got to be kidding me.

Who in their right mind had the nerve to kidnap me? I'm Landon King, and that name holds exceptional power on this island.

I groaned as the pain on the back of my head became prominent. The last thing I remembered was stepping out of REU's studio, and now, here I am—bound to a chair like a lesser being.

The audacity.

"Looks like sleeping beauty is finally awake," a familiar voice said. I raised my head with a scowl as I looked at my kidnapper. I blinked at the muscular man in front of me before a laugh spilt from my bruised lips.

Oh, it was bruised? No wonder my lips felt like jelly.

"Seriously?" My lips curled into a smirk as I stared at the infamous Yulian Dimitriev—one of the leaders of the Serpents.

Of course, those motherfuckers were behind this.

Yulian smirked, circling the room like a try-hard predator. My gaze followed him. This is boring. Did he think this is a movie scene or something?

Yulian stopped his circling when he was in front of me again and pulled down a white screen.

Okay?

Is he going to show me a powerpoint presentation of his 'spectacular' plans? Whatever. I could hardly care. I needed myself unbound and out of this pathetic situation. I gave the confident Yulian a pitied look.

He has no idea what's coming his way.

In the meantime, I decided to have some fun. I tugged at my restraints and looked at Yulian with a fake pout on my lips.

"Yulian, sweetie, I thought we were friends," I drawled out. "What's all this?" I asked him. Yulian scoffed at me, his arms crossed.

"You're in no position to joke around, King." He said, his voice gruff. "We used each other." Yulian lifted a shoulder.

"I never use people," I said dramatically with a fake offended gasp. It's just that humanity's purpose is to serve me.

Yulian didn't look amused. Of course not. Instead, there was a flicker of irritation in his jaw. Then, he smirked and pulled out his phone. I waited for his next move because I didn't particularly have a choice.

"Did you think your little rendezvous would go unnoticed?" He taunted me as he typed something on his phone. I raised an eyebrow at that, and all of a sudden, the projector—somewhere behind me—flickered to life, and the screen displayed a video.

It didn't take me half a second to recognise what was going on in the video. Probably because it was me on the screen. I was pinned against the wall by a man wearing a neon orange stitch mask. Aka Jeremy Volkov, my darling boyfriend.

Yes, the one and only.

My eyes narrowed as I took in the scene. In the security footage, I lifted Jeremy's mask with a smirk on my face, despite being cornered in an alley. Jeremy leaned in, and suddenly, the vedio cut off.

Just when it was getting good.

Also, damn, I knew we were sexy.

"I wonder what dear old Volkov would do if he knew that I have his forbidden fruit in my cave." Yulian smirked, a manic glint in his eyes. As far as I cared to know, the guy was insane. Kind of like Sokolov—except he didn't have someone to leash him.

Not yet.

My smirk only widened at that, and I decided to poke further. "You'd know all about forbidden fruits, huh?" I paused for a dramatic effect. "Considering your little fixation with a certain pakhan's heir." I let my teasing words get to him.

I sat back and watched as the smugness fell from his face, replaced with anger and irritation. I clicked my tongue.

It's so easy to provoke these mafia heirs.

Yulian clenched his jaw and stalked towards me in huge steps. If this is supposed to be scary—it wasn't. Yulian stopped right in front of me, but before he could do anything—

"Touch him, and I'll snap your neck."

Finally. I exhaled, grinning.

....

Jeremy

My Kukolka is kidnapped.

If anyone thought they could take what's mine and get away with it, then they're fucking wrong.

Nobody touched what's mine.

Landon was supposed to meet me at the cottage, but he didn't come, nor did he pick up his phone when I called him.

So, like any loyal boyfriend, I tracked his location with the tracker I had put in his phone. It showed that he was still outside the studio.

And that's exactly where I went. But I didn't find him. No, instead, I found his phone lying on the floor, as well as his car parked in the parking lot.

Which meant only one thing, Landon was taken. And whoever that took him was about to pay big time.

My grip on the handlebars tightened as I cut through the roaring winds with practised ease. Behind me, a black Tesla, a Porsche, and a Lamborghini kept close distance.

The Kings, of course.

I had stormed the Elites mansion straight after getting out of the REU parking lot. I was greeted by a very displeased Eli King.

"Where the fuck is Landon?" I asked. Eli blinked at me, and a small smirk lifted his lips. He tilted his head and leaned on the doorframe.

"Who's asking?" His posh accent sounded slightly amused as he stared at me with those cold dark grey eyes of his. My jaw ticked.

"I'm not here to play games, King." I said, keeping my tone as calm as possible. But it didn't work as my blood was boiling at the thought of someone touching my doll. "Where is he?" I asked again.

"Not here," Eli shrugged—not helping the beast inside me that I'm trying to keep at bay. Landon would not like me killing his family, I reminded myself. The fucker in front of me kept talking. "Actually, it has been a few days since my cousin dearest has graced us with his presence at nights."

Obviously. Landon was with me. Until now. The thought made my eyes darken again. Eli's eyebrows furrowed, and he stood straight.

"What happened to my cousin, Volkov?" His tone was calm, but the muscle ticking in his jaw said otherwise. Just then, that nuisance Creighton came up behind him.

"What's going on?" He asked, dressed in a simple hoodie and pants—looking like he just woke up. I rolled my eyes. This was a waste of time.

"Volkov." Eli's voice cut in again. I exhaled through my teeth, trying to resist strangling the useless idiots in front of me. Eli seemed fed up. "I asked a fucking—"

"Landon got kidnapped." I interrupted. I watched as their expressions shifted. The brothers glanced at each other, and a dark look crossed their features.

"What the bloody hell do you mean?" It was another voice who said that. My heart stumbled for a hot second, but disappointment quickly washed over me like a tidal wave when I recognised it. Brandon King.

Not mine.

"It means what it means." I gritted out. Frustration and anger clouded my senses, and I wanted to burn everything in sight. My mind only chanted one name, my Kukolka’s. "We have to find him and fucking quick." I said.

"What is it to you?" The brainless idiot—Creighton—asked. I glared at him in the way that usually made people stagger back in fear but, of course, the motherfucker barely flinched. Realisation dawned in Eli's face, and he gritted his teeth.

"Of fucking course." He grumbled, pinching his nose. Then he had the audacity to glare at me like I'm the one at fault. Fuck, maybe, I am. If I had been more cautious, then this wouldn't have happened.

"We will deal with this after we find him." Eli said, interrupting my thoughts. I glared right back at him, but suddenly someone else squeezed through to reveal a short brunette.

"Find who?" Glyndon King asked, worry etched on to her face. She paused when she saw me. "Uh, what is he doing here?" She pointed at me and looked at Brandon.

"Landon has been kidnapped," Brandon said, his face tight with tension and worry. Glyndon's face fell, and she let out a gasp.

"What!?" She turned to me and glared with an intensity that was almost close to Landon's. I guess it's in the King genes. "Where the fuck is my brother?" She asked me.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be here." I growled. It's not that I had anything against the girl, but my lack of knowledge on kukolka’s location was grating my nerves.

She scowled and turned to Eli, who was still glaring at me like I purposely made this happen. Well, if he thought that, then he had no idea how far my obsession went.

"We have to find Lan," Brandon said, his arms crossed and jaw set with what appeared to be anger. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. According to my Landon, the King siblings had a dysfunctional relationship. Brandon and Landon had a different bond than most twins did. It all changed eight years ago, Landon had said. They used to be inseparable, but now... they were physically distant.

And their little sister, Glyndon—according to Lan—preferred Brandon over him. But as I looked at the building anger and worry on the two's faces, I thought there was something my doll didn't get right. Not to mention the absolute fury on Eli's and Creighton's faces.

"We will." Eli said with finality, looking at Brandon. "Volkov will help, too." He said.

Too. How fucking dare he. He said that like he is letting me help. As if it's not my prince that was kidnapped.

"That's my boyfriend who was taken, King." I say, inching closer to him. Eli looked back at me like I was beneath him. The fucking nerve of these people. "Don't you fucking try to overpower me." I gritted out.

"Wait—boyfriend?" Creighton asked, incredulous. I spared him a single glance, and Brandon grabbed his shoulder.

"First, we find Landon." Brandon said, though his face looked paler than before.

Just like that, we had to team up, and we found out Landon's location. The Serpents mansion. Of course. I mentally killed myself for not figuring it out sooner. But, at least we got it now.

Then, as we got ready to go, Glyndon also joined us—refusing to listen to Eli. She got inside Brandon's Tesla, and we sped off. That is how we got to this point.

I picked up my speed, and the cars behind me did so as well. The night sky loomed over us, glinting with stars. But, I was in no mood to stare at the fucking stars when my own star was taken away from me.

Landon King is mine. Every inch of him—soul and body—belonged to me, and that is written in the fucking cosmos by yours truly. And if Yulian Dimitriev had the nerve to take him away from me, then he was going to pay by giving me his soul.

V be damned.

We rounded the street where the mansion was and took the woods to enter into the road behind the mansion. I stopped my bike and took off my helmet, looking over my shoulder to see the Kings get out as well. I got off my bike and turned towards them.

"I'm going into the basement where Lan is," I began—my tone authoritative and dark in the night. I didn't fuck around when it came to my loved ones—especially Landon. "Eli and Creighton, you two are going to cover for me and keep the guards busy—or kill them, I don't care." I added. Then, I turned to the siblings. "You two will stay here in Brandon's car. When we bring Landon, he is going to ride with you back to the mansion."

They nodded, stepping back. Eli and Creighton moved away to talk, a bag slung over Creighton's back. Oh, that was just the extra surprise.

"Please, do bring him back." I turned to look at Brandon when he spoke. Landon would've been happy to hear that. The thought only made me want to get inside the damn mansion as fast as possible.

"Mark my words." I replied with undettered determination and unyielding anger. I stepped out into the clearing with my gun snug in my hand. Eli and Creighton followed behind me.

I'm coming, kukolka.

....

"Touch him, and I'll snap your neck."

Yulian whipped around in alarm. But he is not who I'm here for. I looked over him, and a head peaked out from his side. Relief washed over me at the sight of the grin on Landon's face but my eyes darkened once more when I saw the blood on the side of his mouth.

"How the hell did you get past security?" Yulian demanded. I heard Landon scoff behind him, and a small grin lifted my lips.

"You should consider enhancing it." I shrugged, pocketing my gun. Yulian scowled, stepping away from Landon. Good.

"Yeah, get a job instead of sniffing after Morozov like a dog." Landon spoke, his signature smirk on his face. Yulian's glare was dark, and he snarled at Landon, moving to punch him. But I lunged, shoving him to the side and throwing a punch to his gut. Yulian stumbled and glared back at me, while I gave a warning glance at Landon—and my dear boyfriend winked at me.

"This is between me and King, Volkov." Yulian glowered, standing straight again. I scoffed as I inched towards him. "Mind your own business." He spat.

"His business is my business," I said, standing right in front of him. "So, unless you're in the mood to get yourself killed, I suggest you stop meddling." I warned, keeping my tone low.

"No, this is personal." Yulian spat, and before I could dodge, he elbowed my ribs. I staggered back, and a punch landed on my jaw. I stumbled, but I regained my strength. From the corner of my eye, I saw Landon struggle against the ropes.

"Listen here, you coward, Jeremy has nothing to do with this!" Landon shouted at him. "And for the record, neither do I." He glared at him.

"Aw, are you worried that I'll squash your little boyfriend like a bug?" Yulian crooned mockingly. I took that moment to strike, landing a mean punch on the side of his head, sending him down.

"Fuck." He grunted on the floor, obviously dizzy. I took out my knife and slashed at Landon's ropes, freeing his wrist. Kukolka had the nerve to blow me a kiss as I undid his leg bounds.

Yulian got up just then. "Not so fast." He growled. My phone dinged at that moment, and I rolled my shoulders. Landon smirked at him and lunged, kicking his legs—throwing him off balance.

I attacked from the other side, crashing my fist against his forehead. Yulian hit the floor in a daze. Blood trickled down his eyebrows, and something snapped in me. I grabbed his collar, hauling him up.

Then, I began to throw punches at him. Again, and again, and again. Until I couldn't see anything except the blood on his face. My inner beast was going feral at the thought of this fucker taking my kukolka. Yulian spluttered blood, clearly out of his mind.

All of a sudden, warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me back. My body was still tense and trembling with fury—with the need to shed more blood. But then, a soft familiar voice spoke in my ear.

"Jer, you're gonna kill him. Let go," Landon whispered, pulling me back from my frenzy. I exhaled, my body relaxing as I leaned into his warm body. My home. I glared at Yulian's bloodied face, his body still in my grasp. My own body tensed up again.

"I want to kill him." I rasped out. Yulian's head lolled to the side—eyes fluttering. Landon sighed behind me and tugged my body towards him again.

"You're not in the right mind." He said gently. "While I don't give a fuck about his life, your friend wouldn't appreciate you killing him—no matter the fucked up foreplay they have going on."

I didn't say anything. I kept my dark gaze still on Yulian's face. Then, Landon, my kukolka, spoke again. "You wouldn't want your friend to be angry at you."

I dropped Yulian's body to the ground. He landed with a thud, groaning on the floor. I turned around to look at Landon, who had a soft expression on his face.

He knew how to tame my beast just like I knew how to match his crazy.

Landon King is mine.

And I'm his.

My lips lifted into a smile and I grabbed him by the waist. "God, I was so fucking worried." I murmered against his cheekbones, my voice heavy with emotion.

Landon chuckled, placing a hand on my neck. "While I enjoyed being saved like a princess, you knew not to worry about me." He said, grinning.

I chuckled, shaking my head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I can't not worry about you. You're mine, kukolka. I'm serious about what belongs to me." I told him.

Suddenly, my phone dinged again, and I had to force my gaze away from Lan's blushing cheeks and smug face. I glanced at Yulian still on the floor, then I smirked before pulling out my phone.

"I hope you like a bit of fire," I said and grabbed Landon's arm, before pressing an icon on my phone.

Two minutes.

"Let's go, baby." I said. Landon nodded and spared one last look at Yulian before we both ran out of the basement. There were many injured guards and members in our path—making it clear that Eli and Creighton had done their job pretty well.

"Did you do this all alone?" Landon asked as we were reaching the backyard exit. I chuckled and glanced back at him.

"My only concern was you, kukolka." I said as we ran out to the backyard. Landon slowed down beside me, seeing the vehicles outside. "Your cousins took them down." I finished.

Landon stared at his family members with an unreadable expression on his face. When they saw him, they quickly approached us. Brandon and Glyndon ran into him, pulling him into a group hug. My doll tensed for a moment before relaxing into their embrace and hugging them back.

"Oh my god, Lan." Glyndon whispered, staring at his bruised lips. Brandon cursed under his breath.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice strained and worried. Landon chuckled and ruffled his hair.

"I'm fine, you two." He grinned. "Though it's refreshing to see you both so worried about me." He said. I stifled a laugh.

"Don't fucking scare us like that, again." Creighton grumbled, glaring at him. Landon's grin only widened.

"Did I worry you, my baby cousin?" He winked at him, and Creighton rolled his eyes. Eli approached him.

"What the fuck did you do?" He asked, crossing his arms. Landon put on a scandalised expression, which I knew he was faking, and so did everyone else.

"Why would I ever—"

"Landon." Eli interrupted. Landon sighed, giving an eye roll.

"I may or may not have given Dimitriev access to Morozov's mansion in the states, which may or may not have resulted in the ruination of Yulian's car by Morozov." Landon said as we stared at him with bewildered expressions. "Allegedly." He added.

How the fuck did he even get Vaughn's mansion's access? Before I could ponder on that, the Serpents mansion erupted in flames.

Oh, yeah, that's the little surprise I was talking about. Landon's eyes lit up as he stared at the orange flames lighting up the night sky. I stared into his dark blue eyes that had the reflection of the fire dancing in them. Like the sky itself was poured into his irises. He looked like he was admiring a beautiful art instead of a burning mansion.

I shook my head with a soft smile. My little devil.

"Come on," Brandon broke the silence. "Let's get out of here." He said, moving back. I took Landon’s hand in mine and watched the way Brandon's and Glyndon's eyes narrowed at our joined hands. I flashed them a smirk while Landon tried to ignore Eli's chiding.

I got my kukolka back, and that's all that mattered. No one touched what's mine. I was raised to be possessive of my belongings, and Landon King is definitely my most important and beloved possession.

My gorgeous doll.

Chapter Text

The club was alive with the sound of the music bouncing off the walls and the coloured lights flickering and dancing along with the people on the dance floor. They shouted and sang, grinding on each other and flirting with passers-bys. At every corner, there was a couple eating each other's face and hands wandering.

The sound of skin against skin, paired with the thrum of the music, could make any sane man drunk and euphoric.

"Two more shots, and I'll declare you the Vodka King, Carson!" Nikolai's loud voice boomed as he challenged his cousin. The man's face was red—his hair, a mess, and a thin line of sweat clung to his body. Killian's eyes rolled back, sputtering spit as he tried to regain his senses. He gagged as he brought up a hand to show Nikolai his middle finger.

"Fuck you, Niko!" He shouted before he downed another shot. Nikolai laughed out loud—the sound mixing in with the music. Gareth next to Nikolai rolled his eyes, his own face pinkish from the alcohol.

"You wish!" Nikolai retorted as he watched Killian grab his own head with a smug expression. He pointed at his clothed dick before declaring. "This is my Lotus Flower's property!"

"You gross little bitch!" Killian tried to punch him but Nikolai dodged. Gareth quickly grabbed him before he hit the floor in his drunkenness.

"Seriously?" Gareth grumbled as he steadied Killian, who was trying to kick at Nikolai’s feet, not realising that Nikolai had propped up both of his feet on another couch next to them—where Jeremy was sitting.

Gareth turned his attention to Jeremy. A bottle of almost empty vodka hung off his hand lazily. He was staring into a distance, a strange smile on his face. The tips of his ears were red, with a pink blush covering his cheeks from the alcohol. His expression was carefree and soft.

Gareth arched an eyebrow at that. He gently nudged Nikolai. When the latter didn't budge or realise—Gareth punched his arm with a roll of his eyes. Nikolai jerked forward, eyes wild.

"Look at Jeremy." Gareth said, pointing at the lost grinning man. Nikolai squinted his eyes before a smirk fell on his face.

"Hey, Jer Bear!" Nikolai slurred, nearly toppling over. Gareth wished he was also drunk as he steadied Nikolai. That got Killian's attention, making him look up from the dots on the floor.

Jeremy did not hear them, too lost in his own mind. Suddenly, Vaughn emerged from the dance floor—shirt unbuttoned and smirk lazy. Gareth's eyes widened when he saw yet again another bottle of vodka.

"Guess what I got!" Vaughn smirked wider as he showed them the bottle. Killian looked like he was going to throw up while Nikolai's eyes lit up.

"Hell yeah, suckers!" He shouted as he reached out his hands for it. The man had gotten shirtless the moment they walked in and even tried to get them half naked, to which Jeremy shoved him away.

Gareth glanced at Jeremy again, wishing he was sober to handle these idiots. He regretted getting persuaded by Nikolai. Vaughn plopped down next to Jeremy, opening the bottle. The guy had arrived from the States to stay for a few weeks, and that meant celebration in Nikolai's dictionary.

"Jer!" Nikolai called again, nudging Jeremy's elbow with his feet. Vaughn chugged straight from the bottle, making Killian gag. Jeremy stirred, glancing at Nikolai with the same goofed up expression. The guys shifted, seeing the look on his face. Jeremy never had such a drunk and almost lovesick expression. So, this was new.

"What's on your mind, Jer Jer?" Vaughn asked, leaning closer to Jeremy's face, waving the bottle in his hand. Jeremy chuckled, shaking his head.

"Blue eyes," he whispered, staring into the distance with a dreamy expression. Killian's face wrinkled in disgust while Nikolai stared at him dumbfounded.

"Blue ice?" Nikolai asked, his head tilted like a puppy. "What's so special about blue ice? Is there even blue ice?" Nikolai looked at Gareth. "Hey, Gaz, does blue ice exist?"

"Yes, Nikolai." Gareth grumbled, annoyed. He took another shot. Maybe if Gareth also got drunk out of his mind, he wouldn't have to consciously deal with these drunkards.

"Woah!" Vaughn exclaimed. "You like blue ice?" He shook Jeremy's shoulder as he asked.

"I'm in love with them." Jeremy replied, that look still on his face. Killian and Nikolai snickered.

"Jeremy is in love!" Nikolai crooned. Killian fell into another fit of drunk giggles. Gareth rolled his eyes, but a smile fell on his face as well.

"Tell us what's so special about blue ice, Jer." Vaughn said very seriously. "We can add it in vodka!" He showed Jeremy his bottle. That made Jeremy's eyebrows furrow.

"Huh?" He asked, then an angry look crossed his pink face. "I will kill you if you lay your hands on him, V. Brother or not." Jeremy threatened, his finger pointed at him.

"Him?" Gareth asked, his head tilted. Nikolai gasped, his hand pressed against his naked chest.

"You have a friend that you didn't tell us about?" He shrieked in horror. "Oh, the betrayal!" Nikolai moaned.

"And his name is Blue Ice?" Killian snorted. "Corny as shit."

"What are you all talking about?" Jeremy asked, his face furrowed. Poor Jeremy looked so confused. Vaughn giggled for no reason next to him, while Gareth quickly took another shot.

"Silly Jeremy," Vaughn clicked his tongue, patting Jeremy’s shoulder. "We're talking about your friend, Blue Ice." He said, with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

"That's my boyfriend!" Jeremy huffed, hugging his bottle to his chest. Nikolai perked up at that—eyes wide.

"Oh finally, you ditched King!" Killian hollered, his arms raised. They had found out that Jeremy and Landon were dating a week ago, and they were still a bit bitter about that. "Though, getting with someone named Blue Ice is a bit low." Killian noted.

"Watch your tongue, Carson." Jeremy growled, his tone possessive. "His name is Landon King." He corrected.

"You didn't ditch him?" Killian shouted, his eyes wide and face frowny. Gareth groaned as he rubbed his own face while Vaughn drew circles on Jeremy's t-shirt with the bottle cap.

"Wait," Nikolai sat up straighter, a thoughtful expression on his face. "If Landon is Blue Ice, does that make my lotus flower Yellow Ice?" He asked. Killian found that very funny and began to crack up. Vaughn chuckled.

"That makes so much sense!" Vaughn said, encouraging him. Gareth resisted the urge to kick them all. Jeremy turned to Vaughn with a weirdly happy smile.

"V," he called. Vaughn hummed, looking at Jeremy. "He has the most prettiest smile." Jeremy swooned, leaning on Vaughn's shoulder. "His real smile—the one he uses with me." He said, his expression far gone.

Nikolai stood up shakily and sat down on Jeremy's other side, throwing an arm around him. "What else, best bro?" He asked, grinning.

"He has this mole under his right eye that I love so much." Jeremy said, keeping his finger under his own right eye. "I always try to kiss it, but he shoves me away, blushing." His eyes lit up again. "Oh, he is gorgeous when he blushes!" He practically melted between Vaughn and Nikolai while the two exchanged knowing glances.

Gareth snorted, watching the absolute disgust on Killian's face. He quietly pulled out his phone to record Jeremy's drunk confessions.

"Have you seen him sculpt?" Jeremy asked, then he shook his head and said again. "You better have not 'cause that's only for me to see." He declared.

"Yes, sir!" Vaughn slurred with a sloppy salute. Jeremy seemed to be happy with that, and he continued speaking. Gareth smirked behind his phone's camera.

"He has this concentrated expression on his face with his tongue peaking out sometimes. Oh, his lips are so addicting." He jumped from one thing to another. "I could kiss them forever." Jeremy sighed.

"Wow," Killian chuckled. "Jer is gone, for real." Gareth nodded at that.

"We lost him." He smirked. Jeremy laughed quietly, that expression never leaving his face. At that moment, they realised that, no matter how much of a headache Landon King was—is—he makes their best friend happy, and this is the happiest they have seen Jeremy. So, no matter what, they will have to accept him as long as Jeremy's happiness is vivid.

"I'm gonna marry him so that I can forever see his face scrunch up whenever I annoy him!" Jeremy declared. Nikolai clapped his hands while Vaughn yelled out affirmations. "I'm gonna keep him for the rest of my life, you guys." He said.

Jeremy laid his head on Nikolai's shoulder while Vaughn laid on Jeremy's elbow. Killian stood up and walked over to them to plop down on top of Nikolai. Gareth laughed and also stood up. He pocketed his phone and squeezed in between Vaughn and the armrest, laying on Vaughn's back.

Five grown, bulky men who are feared across the island, cuddled on a club's sofa, pressed up together. They heard Jeremy mutter one more thing before he passed out.

"Landon King will always be mine."

Chapter Text

Recovery was not something that Nikolai took seriously.

Of course not. He was born and trained to take bullet wounds and stab wounds like a brick wall—unwavering before it.

Which is why he is walking around the mansion—when he should be resting—with no particular aim.

Well, maybe he could annoy his little sisters. Nikolai grinned at the thought, already making the turn to their bedrooms. His little sisters were staying over because they were worried about him.

How cute. Really, Nikolai is so proud and happy about those two. His baby sisters. While the three of them were poles apart, they cared about each other too much. They loved each other. It was something Nikolai was always grateful about.

Just as he was about to push open the door to Mia's bedroom, he heard Maya's frantic voice.

"Yes, Mia, it was Jeremy!"

Nikolai froze, his thoughts clearing as he leaned closer to the slightly ajar door, trying to listen in. Why were they talking about Jeremy? He tilted his head to look inside and saw the two blondes sitting on the bed at the farther end of the room.

"But why?" Mia signed, her movements tense and mouth apart. Nikolai's eyebrows furrowed as he kept listening.

"You don't want to know." Maya said, her eyes wide and looking mildly traumatised. With a sigh, she spoke again. "Jeremy grabbed him by his throat, okay?—and then he lifted him up, Mia, he fucking made him sit on his car and you know what he did next?" She squeaked out.

Nikolai's eyes squinted as Mia listened intendly. His thoughts ran miles per second, and he was so confused. Who was Jeremy with? How the hell does Maya know about this? Questions repeated in his head. But no theory prepared him for what Maya said next.

"He kissed him!" She whisper-screamed. Mia's hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened. Nikolai was bamboozled. Jeremy kissing a guy? Maya nodded wildly as if she heard his thoughts. "Yes, I know, Jeremy kissed Landon."

Nikolai's head spun. What the absolute fuck did he just hear? He grabbed onto the wall to steady himself because suddenly he felt as though the floor gave way beneath him.

Were his sisters messing with him?

And as if that wasn't hard enough to process, Maya spoke again. "It wasn't just a normal kiss. No, it was a fucking claim, Mia. Jeremy literally ate his lips right in front of me—not that he knew." She added, breathless.

No. No. Fuck no.

No way Jeremy kissed Landon King. No fucking way. His best friend would never. Either Maya is outright lying, or she mistook him for someone else.

No. Nikolai refused to accept it.

Just no.

"I don't even know what to say. It was so unaccepted." Maya grabbed her hair while Mia sat there looking stunned and speechless. Nikolai understood her feelings. "They are definitely in a relationship." Maya nodded as she said so.

"But what about Niko and the others? How would they react?" Mia signed, her face worried. Nikolai's fists balled on his sides, his jaw set. He was angry, hell, he felt betrayed even.

"I don't know," Maya whispered, worry etched onto her soft face. Nikolai turned away from the door, muscles tensed with fury.

Jeremy was not in a relationship with Landon King. But if he was? Then he better have a good fucking explanation on why. Because Nikolai needed answers.

Fast.

Chapter Text

Anger wasn't what Landon was feeling right now.

No, he was fucking livid.

With a clenched jaw, his eyes scanned the hall of masked students—trying to locate his baby brother.

What if he was held hostage?

Landon mentally slapped his demons at that thought. No. Brandon was safe—safe as he could get in this wormhole—and Landon would find him in time.

Landon adjusted the collar of his white shirt as he kept his gaze flickering between the idiots present in the room. This was a joke.

It was pure violence. No art, no amusement, no chaos. Just simple, pure, violence.

Why his saint of a twin decided to attend this so-called initiation is what perplexed Landon.

Or was he forced just like him?

Landon's gaze narrowed behind the rabbit mask. There were too many students—from both universities—to detect Brandon from among them. Besides, if he was close, Landon would know.

It's the twin tingle, or whatever.

The invitation came at three PM, followed by the threat.

Be there at the initiation, or else your brother will be the victim to our wrath.

The fucking nerve they had to threaten his brother. His Bran. And if those twats thought they could get away with messing with Landon King's family—

Then they were absolutely wrong.

The balcony door opened and the five Heathens stepped out. Landon felt the crowd tense around him with anticipation and apprehension. Landon scoffed under his breath.

A distorted voice began to explain today's game. Landon rolled his eyes when he heard it. Predator and Prey. It was so predictable that he almost laughed.

His eyes took in the five figures at the top. Red Mask, or Killian Carson, had a bat resting nonchalantly on his shoulder. Green Mask had his own weapon, a recurve bow. White Mask stroked a heavy chain while that brute Nikolai Sokolov—or Yellow Mask—had no weapon at all.

Landon's eyes clashed with Orange Mask's grey ones, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Unintentionally. His gaze narrowed when he realised that the man was looking straight at him. A metal club rested on his shoulder, his posture straight and commanding.

All five of them wore boring black tshirts and trousers paired with those neon masks of theirs.

Landon kept his gaze stuck to Jeremy Volkov's masked face as the participants were given a chance to walk out. Some students shuffled out, but he did not. Landon watched as something akin to amusement flickered in Jeremy's otherwise cold eyes.

If Brandon was a participant like him, then he hoped that he had taken that chance to leave.

The distorted voice announced the start of the game, and all around him, students began to scurry off like scared rats. Landon waited for a second before muttering a curse and beginning his run.

He would've loved to hijack this little show and make himself the centre of attention. But that wasn't what he was here for today. His twin brother was his priority.

Besides, he has some other chips planted in the area to disturb their plans.

But of course, he did not think he would be participating.

Landon heaved out a breath as he slipped in between two large trees. He paused to take a look around the area, trying to map it.

Brandon could be anywhere in this huge property. And the never-ending call of the eliminated numbers grated at his nerves. What if Brandon's number was one of them? No.

Landon grunted as he was kicked from the back. The unexpected attack made him lose his balance, falling to the floor. He rolled on to his back, staring up at Orange Mask. Jeremy Volkov towered over him, his posture calm and confident.

"Did a lamb get lost?" Jeremy's Russian accent reached his ears. Jeremy placed his boot on Landon's knee, stopping him from getting up. He pressed against it as he leaned down. "The mask suits you."

Landon glared at Jeremy’s mocking tone. He let out another small grunt as Jeremy pressed his boot down harder.

"Can't say the same for you, though." Landon retorted through clenched teeth.

Jeremy chuckled—mocking, condescending—as he let Landon's knee free. He stepped back, his head tilted as Landon sat up.

"Brave words coming from someone who is trapped." His tone dripped with power laced in sin. Landon got to his feet, glare set behind the mask.

"I'm not trapped." Landon said, his tone steady despite the worry in his chest.

"Then where is your brother, King?"

Landon's eyes snapped up to meet Jeremy's. Before Landon could register the fury rising in him, he lunged. His hands found Jeremy's throat and chest, slamming him against a tree. The metal club fell from his grip, and Jeremy grunted.

"I should've known it was you." Landon hissed as his grip on his throat tightened. Jeremy scoffed despite the lack of air.

"Who did you think it was?" He teased again, loving the reaction he was getting out of the otherwise arrogant and confident Landon.

"Someone a bit more reckless and stupid." Landon spat. Jeremy's hands stayed on his either side, allowing Landon to hurt him. Both of them knew that it would only last for a little while. Landon spoke again. "Then again, all of you are equally foolish."

Jeremy kept quiet, but Landon could imagine that cruel smirk on his face. Jeremy's hands came to rest on Landon's waist, making him furrow his eyebrows.

"What the fuck are you—" Before Landon could finish his sentence, he was lifted like a weightless stick. He let go of Jeremy’s throat—his hands coming to grab his shoulders instead. "Volkov—"

The air was knocked out of his lungs when Jeremy threw him down, his back hitting another tree. He slumped against it—his head not hitting by an inch. His bones rattled, and he heaved for breath.

Cool metal found the underside of his chin, lifting his head up. Landon's mask laid broken next to him, and he glared at Jeremy. Jeremy traced the tip of the club along his jawline, stepping closer.

"You came here to find your brother, didn't you?" Jeremy asked, his head tilted. Landon didn't say anything but the heat in his eyes were enough to show his anger.

Jeremy tapped the metal club against the lobe of his ear. Landon glanced at the weapon against his ear. Jeremy's eyes tracked the movement, and he trailed the club down to his neck until it rested against Landon's pulse point. Landon inhaled sharply, gaze snapping to Jeremy's masked face.

"I could kill you right now, right here." Jeremy said with barely concealed amusement dripping off his tone. "Not a single soul would know."

"You wouldn't." Landon said. The dark blue of his eyes was not quite visible because of his dilated pupils. Jeremy tapped the club against his pulse point, making the hair behind Landon's neck stand.

"Why not?" Jeremy asked, looming over him like a god. Except he wasn't. No, he was the fucking devil.

Landon smirked for the first time that night, cold amusement flashing in his eyes. Jeremy's gaze narrowed, but they quickly widened when Landon stabbed his arm that held the club.

"Fuck." Jeremy winced as he gripped his arm, staring at the knife Landon had secretly pulled from his pocket. Landon got to his feet immediately, twirling the bloodied knife between his fingers.

"Because you were bluffing when you should've taken your chance." Landon answered his question. Jeremy glared at the smirk on his face.

"Now, be a darling and tell me where my brother is." He sneered at the end, the cockiness vanishing from his tone. Jeremy glanced at the blood trickling down his arm and back to Landon.

"If you play by my rules," Jeremy began, his other hand adjusting his mask. "You'll get your brother back." He said.

"I don't play by anyone's rules." Landon said, taking a step back. Jeremy took a step forward so their distance remained the same.

"Well, too bad." He lifted a shoulder, completely ignoring his wounded arm. Landon glared at him, and when Jeremy spoke again, his tone was different. It was deeper and more commanding.

"Run."

....

Landon tried to rationalise with himself that he ran only because it was a good excuse to find Brandon.

Definitely not because he had a primal urge to obey Jeremy.

No. Bullshit.

Landon could feel him behind him. Jeremy’s impossible, engimatic presence reached out to him—threatening to grab at his shirt. He zoomed past that right moment, narrowingly missing Jeremy by an inch.

The momentum forced him down. He tumbled to the side, rolling on the ground before his body stopped. He groaned, hearing some torns in his shirt as the stones pierced through the fabric.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he rose to his feet, shaking his head clear. He saw Jeremy stalking towards him with that same relaxed body language. Landon glared at him with hatred, a faint trickle of blood down his lips.

"You think you can escape me in my own territory, doll?" Jeremy's tone was testing, mocking. Landon's nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched at the petname.

His heart did not skip a beat.

"Do not ever call me that again." Landon said through gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I won't if you win." Jeremy said with his head tilted. Landon could practically hear the amusement in his tone, but the lack of sight to his face made it hard to read his emotions.

Not that Jeremy displayed many. He always wore a mask of careful, calculative, and powerful.

"Tell me where my brother is, Volkov." Landon said as Jeremy stopped a breath away from him. He hated the inch Jeremy had on him. Not to mention the broader and bulkier torso of the man.

Infuriating.

"That would make it too easy." Jeremy taunted, leaning close enough that Landon could see himself in Jeremy's stormfilled eyes.

"I want to see you break, kukolka." Jeremy whispered, head dipping down to his ear. Landon fought the shudder threatening to hit through his body. "I want you ruined."

Landon's body reacted before he could say anything else. He landed a solid punch on Jeremy's jaw, making him stagger to the side. Landon's knuckles ached a bit. That punch was sure to bruise.

"You don't mess with a devil, Volkov." Landon smirked and kicked his ribs. Jeremy stumbled, but he recovered just as quick as he lunged towards Landon.

Landon narrowly dodged the punch, but Jeremy grabbed him with his other hand, shoving him to the floor. Landon was quickly trapped, Jeremy above him, pressing him down.

"Get off." Landon struggled against him, but Jeremy didn't budge. Jeremy's hand wrapped around Landon's throat, and he squeezed. Landon choked as he saw the animalistic glint in Jeremy's eyes. His pupils were blown wide, and he looked ready to kill him.

"You look good writhing under me, King." Jeremy rasped. Landon felt himself getting lightheaded, his oxygen intake getting restricted. His body burned up, and he felt tears prickling at his eyes as he tried to shake Jeremy off. He smirked shakily, trying to sound stable.

"You seem to have a kink," his voice trembled at the end as Jeremy squeezed. Landon's vision blackened for a split second before dots formed at the corner of his eyes.

Panic settled at the bottom of his stomach as he realised Jeremy wasn't speaking or taunting. He was ready to kill him.

No.

Landon struggled his legs free and wrapped them around Jeremy's torso before flipping them. He clawed at Jeremy’s hands before grabbing Jeremy's throat.

Jeremy inhaled sharply under him, his hands stopping their assault on Landon's neck before dipping to grab his thighs in a bruising grip.

"I'm going to kill you, and I'll find my brother myself." Landon said, his voice a bit strained, but he kept a firm grip on Jeremy's throat.

Jeremy's lips lifted in that cruel smirk again, and Landon felt his hands rise up from his thighs, tracing his clothed skin. Landon kept one of his hands choking Jeremy and reached behind himself to grab one of Jeremy’s hands.

"Do you realise where you're sitting?" Jeremy asked, a light growl building up in his throat from being chocked. Landon's gaze narrowed, but he felt it.

He was sitting right on top of Jeremy’s half-hard dick.

Fuck.

Before he could do anything, Jeremy’s free hand squeezed his arse. Landon's eyes widened, and he stared at Jeremy’s smirking face as he continued groping him.

"What the fuck are you doing, you bloody wanker?" Landon hissed, tightening his grip on Jeremy's throat. Jeremy's eyes fluttered for a moment before that wicked glint returned to his eyes.

"I thought you were a genius." Jeremy said simply, his voice gruff from Landon's attacks on his throat. With a frustrated groan—and blushing cheeks—Landon let go off Jeremy's throat and moved to kick his face, freeing himself from the mafia prince.

Jeremy grunted as Landon's boot came in contact with the side of his face. He paused to regain his senses before getting to his feet.

Landon's eyes caught a flash of neon yellow, and he turned his gaze to see Nikolai leading a masked man to an annexed house.

A strange feeling clawed at Landon's chest, and he quickly made up his mind. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Jeremy walking towards him, and without a glance, Landon bolted.

He ran straight for the building, running as fast as he could. His feet carried him just fine through the dirt and trees.

Landon sensed the shift in the air, moving before Jeremy's club could hit him. He threw him a middle finger and continued running with Jeremy hot on his tail.

"Let's see how far you can get away from me." Jeremy's words are taunting and Landon resisted the urge to turn around and drive his fist into his ribs again.

Landon ignored him, trying to get to the building faster. He had a feeling that was Brandon. And he always trusted his instincts.

But suddenly, strong arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him up. Landon would've tumbled forward had not Jeremy's grip been strong enough.

"Caught you again," Jeremy taunted. Landon groaned and punched the arms around his waist, but Jeremy only laughed against his back. He kicked his legs to make him lose balance.

"Let go!" He shouted, struggling like a fish in a net.

"Fucking stay still." Jeremy growled. Landon reached behind him to grab Jeremy's shoulder and hoisted himself up further. Jeremy, stunned—lost his grip, and Landon caught himself before he hit the floor.

"Fuck you." Landon spat at him and ran once more. His body was getting tired of running, but he needed to save Brandon.

"Brat." Jeremy muttered before taking off behind him. Landon shoved open the door as he ran into the small building. The sight made his skin crawl.

There was a masked guy sitting on Nikolai's lap, looking like he didn't want to be there. When Nikolai saw him, he tensed. Landon glared at Nikolai, his chest heaving from the run.

"Lan?" The man on Nikolai's lap scrambled to get up. Landon's heart climbed up his throat as he recognised that voice. His own identical one.

"Bran!" He yelled, relief washing over his body. But it was quickly replaced by anger as Nikolai got out of his stupor and stood up. Brandon—still wearing that darned mask—stepped back towards Landon. Before Nikolai could grab him, Landon reached for Brandon, and they turned towards the door.

"I will fucking kill you, Sokolov, just you wait!" Landon called over his shoulder as they neared the exit. But before they could get there, Jeremy appeared. His eyes darted between the three of them. Landon and Brandon shared a glance, and they sprinted.

Before Jeremy could grab Landon, Brandon elbowed him in the face. Landon didn't have time to check where the punch had landed because they did not look back. They ran away from the house, towards a possible exit.

Landon huffed as he ran. He looked at Brandon running beside him and glared at the side of his face. Brandon glanced at him with a similar look.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Landon snapped angrily.

"I came here to save you!" Brandon shouted back, ripping off his mask to throw it aside as they kept running. Landon nearly stopped at that, but he knew that would be a bad idea.

"What do you mean?" He asked, glancing around to spot an exit.

"They said that I had to come if I didn't want you in a casket." Brandon gritted out. Then he gave him a bitter glance. "I'm sorry for caring." He snapped.

Landon's face softened at that, and he released another breath. His feet hurt, but he kept going, determined to get his brother out of here.

"I was threatened about you too," Landon revealed in a breathless whisper. He wondered if Brandon heard it.

"You didn't pick up my calls, Lan."

"Neither did you. I even sent you a damn email!"

"Oh." Brandon said, his lips twitching a bit. Landon rolled his eyes but tensed when they heard footsteps behind them. He ran closer to Brandon.

"They're following us." Landon said quietly. Brandon's body tensed as well, a tick working in his jaw. "You have to get out of here. I'll create a distraction." Landon said.

"What?" Brandon snapped his head to him, glaring. "No!"

"Bran," Landon gritted out. "I'm not arguing with you over this." He said. Brandon shook his head.

"No. I'm not letting you be a fucking bait." Brandon growled. Landon's eyebrows flew to his head.

"Did you just curse?" He asked, incredulous. Brandon grumbled something under his breath before staring at him again.

"I did a lot of things today." He gritted out. Landon nodded, not sure what to say anymore as they kept running.

"Where did you park your car?" Landon asked. Brandon’s eyes squinted.

"Over there." He pointed at the clearing a mile away where there were multiple cars. Landon nodded.

"Mine is on the other side," Landon said. "You get home, Bran. Text me when you're there and then I'll come!" Landon instructed.

"What—no!" Brandon's eyes widened, but Landon shoved him behind a larger tree and took a swift turn, alerting his chasers. He kept running, silently praying that Brandon would listen to him for once.

....

Landon was hiding inside a school building near the Heathens property. He was inside a classroom, staring at his phone with his thoughts running.

He was battered and tired. He did not like it today. He only loved chaos and anarchy when he was the one orchestrating it—when he was the master.

But tonight? He was someone's prey, and that didn't sit right with him. Especially because that someone was Jeremy Volkov.

His mind burned with the reminder of Jeremy’s touch. He could still feel the bastard's touch. On his waist, his thighs, even his fucking arse.

Landon's jaw clenched at the thought. How dare he touch him like that? Like he had the right over Landon.

He didn't.

Landon received a text, pulling him out of the thoughts he badly wanted erased.

Other Half.
Got home.
Please get here fast.

Landon let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He typed out a quick reply and pocketed his phone, walking out of the classroom. He walked through the halls, making sure his steps were quiet—incase someone was here.

As he passed, his eyes caught a dim litted room with a door that was slightly ajar. Landon paused to take a look. His breath caught when he saw what was inside.

A grand piano sat in the middle of the room, illuminated by the single bulb on the ceiling. The room was wide and vast, a few chairs and benches placed in front of it.

A piano room.

Without another thought, Landon walked inside, mindlessly closing the door behind him. It felt like the piano was calling to him, urging him to come closer.

So, Landon did. He let his feet guide him towards the magnificent instrument, his heart thudding in his ears. He stopped right in front of the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys.

Landon hesitated.

This was something he had never told anyone or showed off. Only his parents knew about this secret love of his. Performing arts—or the piano, to be exact—was one thing that he loved too much but hid more.

Even when his parents had called him a music prodigy, he dismissed it. He never thought to pursue it because he wanted to do visual arts like his mother and siblings because he wanted to belong.

And the piano? He kept it as a secret lover—indulging only when his mind was astray and the clay wasn't enough to ground him.

Sculpting was his medicine. Playing the piano was his escape.

With a sigh, Landon sat down in front of the grand piano and pressed down on a key, letting the note fill the air. A small smile graced his lips, and his fingers began to move on their own.

He let himself free, let his thoughts vanish, and he played the keys and notes of a piece he held close to his heart—the Concerto No. 2 in C minor, the 2nd movement by Sergei Rachmaninoff.

It was a Russian piece, yes, but it was dear to him because he had his parents shell-shocked when he played it. They were so proud of him, and Landon had declared that piece his favourite.

He didn't even realise it, but he lost himself as he always does. He let the music guide him, and his fingers glided over the keys in perfect practice.

And then, he was at ease—only in control of his fingers and not his mind.

....

Jeremy should've let him go.

Nikolai did. He said he was going back—to kill or fuck someone Jeremy wasn't sure. But he went back while Jeremy stayed. He wandered the area, trying to find him.

He looked inside the school building, passing the rooms and halls. He was almost going to give up—deciding to see Landon's blood on his knuckles another day.

But then, he heard it.

His throat closed up, his body freezing.

Because someone was playing the piano.

Not just anything. No, it was that one piece.

The one his mother held dear to her heart. The one she danced to with Jeremy in her arms. The one she listened to almost every day.

The one Jeremy thought he'd never hear again.

Because it was before she started acting like a ghost. Before a gap formed between them. Before everything went wrong.

Jeremy's feet began to move on his own, guiding him to the source. He pushed open the door and walked inside only to freeze again because sitting in front of the piano, playing like a gifted pianist was Landon King.

Jeremy's breath stilled. He stared at the way Landon's hands moved like it had a mind of its own. Landon's eyes fluttered close sometimes, those dark eyelashes kissing his cheekbones.

Jeremy didn’t dare move. He didn't dare to make a sound.

Whenever he heard the piano or something similar, he avoided it. Because it brought back memories that were too sentimental, too bitter, too sweet.

The piece Landon was playing was a huge part of his childhood, a big part of his memories and a large void he tried to fill.

But as Landon—his sworn enemy, the one person who always managed to get under his skin—played it so elegantly, so fully, Jeremy was conflicted.

He was torn between wanting to walk up to Landon and tear him away from the instrument for daring to bring out the part he kicked down to forget or do something entirely different.

Something that scared him more than the memories surfing through his mind.

His arm was numb, his head was a mess, and his eyes burned. He couldn't breathe properly, and neither could he move.

Then, as beautiful as it began, Landon brought the melody to an end.

But that wasn't what stole Jeremy's breath. No, it was the smile he had let out.

It wasn't his usual taunting smirk he wore like a second skin. No, it was gentle and alluring.

Something in Jeremy shifted at the sight. Because that smiling Landon wasn’t Satan's heir, nor the harbinger of chaos that Jeremy knew.

Instead, it was someone softer, more ethereal—and the overwhelming urge Jeremy had to pull him closer was dangerous.

But there's nothing more addicting than danger.

Jeremy watched Landon relax and felt himself lose control. That smile didn't leave his lips, and Jeremy stood there, entranced and encaptivated.

He shouldn't be so hypnotised by this version of Landon. He shouldn't be, because it wasn't right.

But when Landon stood up and faced him, that strange flutter came back and stayed this time.

Hell, Jeremy has never felt something like this before. Something this strong and this soft.

Landon flinched back in shock, his hip hitting the edge of the piano—sure to leave a bruise. His eyes widened, and his mouth parted.

No. Jeremy saw him. Jeremy Volkov saw him playing the piano—his solace.

A shiver went down his spine, and he quickly brought his hands behind him, hiding it—afraid of what Jeremy might do. Panic rose in his chest, but it quickly died down at the sight of Jeremy’s face.

He wasn't wearing his mask anymore. There was dried blood on his lips and a cut to his cheekbones, but his eyes—

His eyes held unshed tears, and his clenched fists trembled slightly at his sides. Landon forced down a lump as he stared at the unusual display of emotion passing through Jeremy's face.

Neither of them spoke. Landon's chest heaved, and his face was pulled into an almost scared expression while Jeremy—Jeremy looked like he was on the verge of breaking down in front of Landon.

Landon wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Then, Jeremy spoke.

"Let me take you home." He whispered, his voice thick with emotion that twisted Landon's insides. Landon blinked at him, baffled. He stared for a moment longer, but seeing a terrifying sincerity in Jeremy's face, Landon let out a stuttering breath.

"Go fuck yourself!" Landon snapped, his face pulling into a scowl. Jeremy let out a small sigh, then he walked towards him but Landon moved faster.

"Don't touch me." He pointed at him and turned towards the exit. He half-expected Jeremy to grab him but Jeremy did not. So, Landon—as cowardly as it sounded—ran.

Meanwhile, Jeremy stood there, staring at the piano where Landon was sitting moments ago, lost in his music. His face hardened again, a dangerous gleam flashing in his eyes. His mind cleared, and he made a silent decision.

After that, Jeremy was not letting Landon go. He is going to hunt him down and make him reveal every part he was hiding from the world, from him. Jeremy would break Landon King's mask.

This game of obsessive hatred is about to take a turn.

A game Jeremy is ready to play and conquer, and claim his prize.

A prize in the form of a sharp tongue and blue eyes.

His phone dinged in his pocket. With furrowed eyebrows, he pulled it out to check. It was a text message from the one person that permanently became a part of his mind.

You should check up on your little sister. Heard she is getting reckless.

A smirk lifted Jeremy's lips as he read the message again.

Game on, kukolka.

Chapter Text

The chants from the crowd filled the room as Jeremy and Creighton circled each other like predators.

"Volkov! Volkov! Volkov!"

"King! King! King!"

The air was thick with anticipation and barely contained energy. Jeremy's ears rang with the noises around him, and his attention was zeroed in on breaking apart that smug look on Creighton's face.

But his eyes?

His eyes kept flickering over to the effortlessly gorgeous man standing outside the ring in his simple black shirt and dark grey trousers.

Ever since that fateful night, Landon King had gone out of his way to avoid Jeremy like a plague. He evaded his attempts at stalking him and barely got out of the mansion.

After waiting around and fretting for two whole weeks, Jeremy decided enough was enough and challenged Creighton King to a fight. That way, Landon would be forced to come out of his cave and stand in the fight club.

And it was a good excuse to beat up the younger King for sneaking around with his sister.

Jeremy looked at the blank expression on Landon's face as he watched the ring, and when his eyes caught Jeremy's, he subtly glanced away.

But Jeremy noticed.

He was pulled out of his mind when Creighton landed a punch to his ribs. Jeremy stumbled from surprise, but he jabbed at the menace's chest and landed an uppercut to his jaw. Creighton spat blood and grinned at him like a maniac.

"This seems a bit personal." He said, voice eerily calm. Jeremy tuned out the chants, and his eyes flashed. He lunged and punched his cheeks.

"It is." He replied, short and clipped. Creighton stumbled, and Jeremy grabbed him up his neck and threw him down.

"Is this about Annika?" Creighton wheezed out with a smirk as he kicked Jeremy's shin. Jeremy's eyes only darkened as he landed more punchs on the man.

"Don't utter her name." He growled. Creighton smirked and shoved Jeremy by his throat and stood up. They kept fighting, kicking, dodging, parrying, jabbing—both men desperate to knock the other out.

That was when Jeremy saw it.

Remington Astor—that smug bastard—was standing a bit too close to Landon. He whispered something in Landon’s ear, and his kukolka laughed at that.

Jeremy saw fucking red.

When Creighton lunged at him, Jeremy dodged and kicked him down. He quickly got on top of him and grabbed his throat before punching him left and right.

The REU part of the crowd tensed while the TKU hollered in excitement. Jeremy barely heard Nikolai's triumphant cheer as his knuckles painted red with Creighton's blood.

Creighton sputtered and wheezed under him, trying to dodge his attack. Jeremy kept landing hits, eager to destroy his face. His mind flashed with the image, and he started imagining that Creighton was Remington.

His protectiveness over his sister completely vanished from his mind because some fucker had made Landon laugh.

Jeremy didn’t care as Creighton croaked at him to stop. He barely registered the refree pulling him away and Eli King shouting by the ring.

When the hue cleared, Nikolai was dragging him out of the ring, and Jeremy’s fists were covered in blood, his bottom lip busted and ribs bruised. He blinked his eyes clear.

"Jer, you nearly killed him!" Niko exclaimed though his face betrayed a grin. "I get that he was with Annika, but imagine how mad she will be—"

Jeremy tuned him out. His eyes scanned the area for Landon. His gaze found Landon, and he was shrugging on a coat and walking as Eli and Remington carried Creighton away.

Jeremy quickly got away from Nikolai's hold, and he hastly washed his hands in the bathroom before grabbing his jacket and rushing out of the club—ignoring Nikolai's and Killian's calls.

His ribs ached, and his lips were still bleeding, but Jeremy didn't care. He wasn't going to let Landon go today. He ran to the parking lot and scanned the area for a familiar car.

The black McLaren was already driving out of the parking lot.

"Dammit." Jeremy cursed and got on his bike. He revved up the engine and zoomed out of the parking lot, following the car.

The cold winter wind seered through his jacket and prickled his skin. Jeremy quickly pulled down his visors and kept his speed up. He took every turn Landon did, and because of the other vehicles on the road, Landon wouldn't suspect him.

For a moment, Jeremy felt as though their eyes met through the rear view mirror because Landon started picking up his speed. A faint smirk tugged at Jeremy’s lips as he, too, started chasing after him.

The buildings became a blur and the wind chased after them. Jeremy's bike zoomed past each vehicle until he was roaring next to Landon's McLaren. The brunet glanced at him and Jeremy gave a finger salute.

He saw Landon roll his eyes and then take a turn. Naturally, Jeremy did too. That was how he found himself parking in front of an amphitheatre. Landon got out of the car and marched inside without sparing him a glance. Jeremy quickly took off his helmet and followed him in.

"King," he called as they walked deeper into the open building. Landon ignored him and made no attempt to turn around. "Kukolka!"

That got a slight pause. Landon turned his head and scowled at him before stopping in front of a grand piano and crossing his arms to look at him. Jeremy glanced at the piano and memories of Landon playing it flooded his mind.

"What do you want, Volkov?" Landon asked, sounding bored and impatient. But Jeremy noticed the glint of excitement in his otherwise dull eyes. A smirk lifted his lips at that. Landon's pale face—his cheeks and nose—was flushed from the cold and his artic blue eyes sparkled unnaturally.

"You." Jeremy said, his head tilted. Landon blinked, a frown forming on his face. God, he looked cute.

"What?" Landon sneered. Jeremy sighed at that and stepped closer, making Landon take a step back. But he kept going until he was standing right in front of his doll.

"I want to talk about that night," Jeremy began. Landon tensed up and slightly looked away, avoiding his eyes for the first time. "Why do you hide it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Landon said impassively. Jeremy raised an eyebrow and let out a chuckle.

"The piano, kukolka. Why do you hide that talent of yours? You flaunt everything and anything. You make sure everyone knows how talented you are and remind everyone you're better than them in everything. Then, why—why do you hide your piano skills?" Jeremy asked.

Landon stared at him as if searching for something. Then he glanced down, and for a moment, Jeremy thought he was going to shove him off and leave. But then, Landon spoke.

"It's different." Landon said, looking up at him. "The piano is something only I can play in my family and—and everyone else, my mom and siblings are artists. Sculpting is kind of different from painting, and I feel like I made myself different enough from my family. You know, with my disorders and all. I did not want to make myself more alienated from the few people I actually care about."

A soft sigh escapes his lips.

"I wouldn't have told you this if it weren't for the reaction you gave me that night, but the piano is my solace, Jeremy." Landon said, staring at him earnestly and for once he saw something different than the usual arrogance in those beautiful eyes.

"It keeps me tethered to the human world and whatever humanity I possess. It helps me from not going completely psychotic and believe it or not, it helps me feel, and it's far too personal for me to go public now." He said and swallowed. Jeremy's breath hitched when he saw the tears in his eyes.

Jeremy nodded slowly, registering the information he was given. Not to mention the feeling of ecstacy he felt knowing he was now one of the few people who knows about Landon's passion for his instrument. Landon exhaled and blinked before levelling him with a stare.

"Are you now going to tell me why you were on the verge of tears over a Russian piece?" Landon asked, his arms still crossed and eyes a tad bit glossy. Jeremy took a deep breath and nodded before speaking.

"My mom used to play that piece when I was small. She was a ballerina, and she had certain soft spots for such pieces. She adored the one you played and she used to sing it to me and dance with me to it. After she slipped away, she stopped playing it, and I never thought I'd hear it again. Until you played it. It's one of my fondest memories of her." He explained.

A weight felt lifted from his chest, and it felt good to finally admit that to someone. Landon nodded slowly, understanding the emotions Jeremy was displaying.

They fell quiet again—the soft hum of the rustling leaves and the lingering wind, the only sound in the vast amphitheatre. Jeremy's gaze fell on the piano behind Landon, and an idea formed in his head. He looked back to find Landon staring at him.

"There is a piano," Jeremy said softly. Landon glanced behind his shoulder and hummed.

"So?" He raised an eyebrow at Jeremy, hiding the small smirk on his face. This felt weird as much as exciting it was. A month ago, they were keen to kill each other. Now, here they were in an amphitheatre, sharing their emotions.

"So," Jeremy echoed and smiled sincerely. "Play something for me, kukolka."

Landon let out a stuttering breath and bit his cheeks not to smile. With a small nod, he turned and walked towards the piano. There was no seat, so he had to stand. He pressed down on one of the keys, and then another and soon, a melody filled up the space around them.

Jeremy didn’t know which piece he was playing, but his heart stumbled and fell with each press of the keys. Landon's fingers glided over the keys in perfect ease and elegance. Jeremy's lips pulled into a subconscious smile as he swayed to the music.

That smile.

The one from that night, it came back. Landon's face softened, and a pretty smile lifted the corners of his lips. His eyes were trained on the keys, but he felt Jeremy's presence behind him. He felt the warmth of the monstrous man who seemed to melt with each press of his fingers.

Jeremy Volkov was being undone. All because Landon King was playing a piano.

Jeremy had been taught control all his life. He was told that if he wasn't careful, if he couldn't be strongheaded, then everything around him was doomed to fall. Everything he built and inherited would slip through his fingers if he didn't control himself. He had been taught how much of his emotions to show and how to keep his thoughts straight. He prided himself on his ability to form plans and calculate every misstep to work in his favour.

But never in his life had he been taught how to control himself if he ever got an overwhelming urge to kiss his enemy on the mouth.

That was why the moment Landon turned to face him after he finished, Jeremy lunged and grabbed his waist. Landon's gasp died in his throat because Jeremy crashed his lips onto his. Jeremy exhaled into his mouth.

Finally.

He felt accomplished, and he knew Landon felt something too because he melted against him like a snowflake, cupping his face. Jeremy wrapped his arms around Landon's waist and kissed him like a man starved. He kissed him like he would lose oxygen if he let go. He kissed him like his whole world would crash down if he pulled back.

And throughout it all, Landon kissed him back.

His fingers tangled in Jeremy's hair, and his teeth grazed his bottom lip, but Jeremy kept him pressed against the piano and made an effort to imprint his lips on Landon's.

Something cold fell on Jeremy's hand and he pulled back, confused. Landon's eyes were closed and the pretty flush on his face seemed to darken. Jeremy took a moment to admire him when suddenly something dropped on Landon's nose. Landon's nose scrunched up and he blinked.

A snowflake.

Both of them looked up and saw the small snowflakes falling. Jeremy's eyes widened when he saw the snow falling around them. It was the first snow of that winter. A breathy laugh escaped him and he looked at Landon who was staring at him with something close to fondness.

Jeremy couldn't help it. Not when he had Landon pressed against him and snow falling on them like it would in a movie.

He leaned forward and captured Landon's lips again. But this kiss was softer, more gentler. He held Landon's hips and let Landon caress his cheekbones.

Yeah, something changed between them.

...

A couple of months had passed since the incident and things went so smoothly in Landon’s life.

He told his siblings about his passion for the piano and they encouraged him to play for an audience. He declined with a gentle smile. For him, it was still a sentiment shared among his family and his boyfriend.

Yes, Jeremy was his boyfriend now and he still made Landon play the piano every other night. He played some pieces for both Brandon and Glyndon—and once his baby brother broke down in tears and refused to let him pull back from a hug.

His parents were proud of him too for finally revealing it to his siblings and openly embracing his most prized skill. They were also proud of him for letting someone into his life even though it was actually Jeremy who crawled in forcefully.

Oh, who was he kidding? He very well opened his arms wide to let Jeremy into his heart.

His parents met Jeremy and while his dad—Levi—wasn't too fond of yet again another mafia heir dating his kid, he saw the happy glint in Landon’s eyes and inevitably sighed fondly and accepted it.

Which brings us to this moment.

Landon and Jeremy had been staying at Levi’s mansion for a week, and Jeremy was listening to Landon's baby stories from Astrid in the guise of 'helping her clean up after dinner' while Landon was out on the balcony with his dad.

Levi stared ahead with a glass of wine in his hand. The passing time had been kind to him save for the little wrinkles near his eyes. Landon's lips pulled into a genuine smile at the sight of peace in his father's face.

"You're staring at me." Levi said, sipping his wine. He turned to look at his son, who was shaking his head.

"Just thinking," Landon replied, giving him a smile. Levi returned it and threw an arm around him, pulling him closer.

"I was too," Levi said. Landon glanced at his face, and he gave him a wink. The younger rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "All of my kids have found their ones, and as your dad, me and your mom cannot be more proud of you three."

"Thank you, dad." Landon said. Heart-to-hearts were rare between his dad and him, but when it happened, it made him feel full—even if for some time. But these days, with Jeremy, the void in his chest had been filled to the brim. "It's easier when you had amazing parents to raise you." He said.

Levi chuckled before a wistful look crossed his face. "We never thought we were doing a good job because we felt you didn't feel at home with us. And then, Brandon began to slip away, and it felt like we failed as parents. We cried on many nights. Then, with Glyndon, we felt like she wasn't feeling like she was loved, and we were disappointed in ourselves, Lan."

He squeezed Landon's shoulder, and Landon sighed. "That's not true." He shook his head. "You guys tried your best, but we were complicated. We refused to cooperate, and if anything, you and mom are the best parents we could ask for."

It surprised him how genuine he sounded, and he could see it surprised Levi, too. But, then, again, a lot changed in the past couple of months, and he changed as well, for the better—thanks to his caveman of a boyfriend.

Levi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. "You know I love you, right?" He asked.

Landon smiled and nodded. "Yes, dad."

Levi exhaled and nodded, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes. Then, Landon slowly detached himself from Levi and turned his body to face him. Levi looked at him with a questioning gaze.

"I wanted to ask you something," Landon fidgeted with his fingers and looked at him expectantly. "Could you buy me a grand piano?" He asked, carefully.

Levi stared at his son—his big eyes and interlaced fingers. He had to surpress a chuckle because Landon suddenly looked twenty years younger, asking him for a cherry flavoured candy during a business meeting—with that same exact look on his face.

"Lan," Levi chuckled, shaking his head. "Of course, sweetheart. Why would I ever refuse?" He asked, stifling a louder laugh.

Landon lit up like fireworks, his smile widening. "Thank you, dad, it means alot to me." He pulled Levi into a hug and the glass of wine nearly fell.

"Careful you little minx!" Levi said, chuckling before tightening his hold on Landon. The younger laughed, blinking away the tears starting to form.

When the door creaked open and Jeremy peaked in, Landon winked at him and Jeremy grinned before closing the door, leaving the father and son alone.

Finally, Landon King—the unfeeling narcissistic psychopath—felt full.

Chapter Text

Hellooo lovely people!!

So, I've been brewing up an idea. It's sort of weird which is why I'm dropping this lil announcement. But here goes nothing;

Can I interest you in some hybrids?

JerLan obviously, but of course the other characters will be hybrids too and I have a plot and the setup ready but I decided to start writing after asking yall..cause yk different tastes and all. So, please lemme know if you're interested in reading it. The characters would be shifting hybrids that can shift into their animal forms, soooo what do we think? Is it too weird or just yall's cup of tea? Cause it's definitely mine!!

Like I personally think it'd be cute but you guys are the readers and I'm writing for you, so I wanna know first! Please lemme know soon🩷🩷 thanks for reading! Love yall and comment your thoughts! Muah!!💝

Chapter Text

In this world of aristocratic heirs, mafia ruled legacies, and ancient bloodlines—lived the hybrids.

They weren't men.

Not entirely.

They carried beasts beneath their skin—shifters. Felines, canines, reptiles, and more. They ruled quietly above the world. Old money, old blood. Because hybrids aren't just born—they're bred, blessed, and sharpened by generations before them. Aristocrats and criminals, monarchs and kings.

Amongst them thrived one of the most powerful family lines of all—the Kings.

A legacy of apex predators and noble felines.

Which is why, currently, Jeremy Volkov, in his hybrid form, is perched on top of the largest tree oustide the Elites mansion—to find out the hybrid form of his long time rival Landon King.

A hybrid does not flaunt its form unless it is an apex predator. But even then, casually showcasing your animal form is considered vulnerable.

Hence, someone who lived believing himself to be God's gift and putting on a performance for his spectators didn't do vulnerability.

Landon King would not show his hybrid form until cornered, provoked, and made out of his element.

All of which were impossible.

So, here Jeremy was. Lounging on a tree, waiting for the King to step into his cocoon, and show him what he refused to show the world.

The familiar roar of the sports car's engine made the panther perk up—hunched and ready to leap at a given chance. The owner of the said car stepped out. The moonlight caught his pale doll-like face and almost put a light into those soulless artic eyes.

Those damned eyes.

The blue that seemed like a bottomless pit. The one that drew Jeremy in, no matter how much he had denied it. He had accepted the magnetic pull the seemingly heartless sculptor has.

But everyone could be shaken, and tonight, he would leave Landon King breathless and aching. For him and him only.

Landon made his way into the mansion, temporarily going out of Jeremy’s sight. But he would emerge soon into his room, and the open balcony would provide great insight into Landon's room.

There he is.

Landon shrugged off his coat and laid it on a chair. His fingers absent-mindedly ran through his hair, while the other unbuckled his belt. Soon, he was stripping out of his shirt, and Jeremy’s eyes drank in every inch of skin that was revealed for him to see.

Putting on a show without even realising it.

Landon moved towards his closet, disappearing into it. Jeremy waited—patiently—while the wind ruffled his fur. He could wait. He will. He needed to see if Landon was a puma like his cousin or a cheetah like Killian.

Landon came out of his closet, shirtless and wearing grey silk pants that hung low on his hips. Landon stretched, his arms raised. Jeremy noticed the faint tremor in his back muscles and the beginning of a furred ear collecting on his head. The tell-tale signs of shifting.

White fur? Perhaps a white tiger.

But Jeremy nearly lost his footing because in the next second in place of Landon King sat a white ball of fluff. Its white fur was groomed and spotless, his fluffy tail swooshing. Dark blue feline eyes sparkled in the night as it continued stretching, completely unaware of the predator on the trees.

A fucking cat.

Landon King—the narcissistic, psychopath of a sculptor, who carried himself like a greek god—was a Persian cat hybrid.

But it made fucking sense didn't it? Smaller cat hybrids were cherished and considered valuable to the family. Jeremy's own sister, and Nikolai's, were cats. And they were put on watch 24/7. They were also the smugest cats Jeremy has ever come across.

Landon King being a cat was unexpected, yes, and compared to Jeremy's panther, he is quite breakable. But cunning felines like cats are not to be underestimated, especially not one like Landon King.

Jeremy knows and has seen what Landon can do and his hybrid being smaller than Jeremy's doesn't diminish that. He is a fucking King after all.

Getting out of his stupor, Jeremy lept and landed right on the balcony. Startled, the white cat turned, coming face to face with the black predator on his balcony.

Jeremy stalked closer like a hunter closing in on his prey. Landon didn't flinch by the look in his narrowed eyes, instead he puffed out his chest and stood strong. Jeremy's irises narrowed into slits, daring Landon. When he was an inch away from the white feline, he lowered his head to be eye-level with Landon.

Landon's blue eyes narrowed and Jeremy growled. A deep rumble escaped his throat and reverberated in the room, showing Landon who was more powerful. Landon's gaze locked onto Jeremy's grey ones and he snarled.

Jeremy blinked, taken aback. The cat had just snarled back at him, hissing like Jeremy was a mere inconvenience in his nightly routine. The panther's jaw tightened and he ground his teeth together. Jeremy could open his maw and Landon's little head would fit right inside, and yet.

Arrogant even when shifted.

Jeremy stepped back and Landon's gaze followed him. Without another thought, he lunged for the cat. Landon jumped and clawed at his neck with another snarl. A surprised grunt escaped Jeremy as he flung him across the room.

His body shifted back to human, angry claw marks glistening on his neck. His gaze landed on Landon—back to his human form—sitting up on the sofa where he had landed.

Landon's lips pulled into a smirk when he saw the scar he had left. Another growl built up in Jeremy's chest, his panther ears twitching on his head. They had come back, and his fangs were growing too.

Landon's fluffy tail flicked when he stood up, brushing his silk pants. He looked Jeremy up and down. His t-shirt was stretched tight across his chest, and his long panther tail flicked restlessly. Landon scratched at his own cat ears and glared.

"Well, Volkov, I didn't know you were into this sort of foreplay." Landon smirked as he said so, stalking closer to Jeremy. For a split second, Jeremy wondered who the actual prey was here. Landon didn't appear shaken, not even a bit surprised by his secret exposing.

"Stop drooling at me, sweetheart. It's embarrassing." Landon chided mockingly, and Jeremy realised how close he had gotten to him. Landon's pupils were dilated, and his pale skin had a slight flush from the shift. Jeremy's jaw clenched, and he stepped closer.

"I could tear you apart limb from limb right now." Jeremy threatened, voice a dangerous growl. Landon hummed as if considering it. Jeremy's eyes fell to his naked torso, staying on his collarbones. It flicked back to his eyes when Landon spoke again.

"Maybe," the cat hybrid said, head tilted with amusement lighting up his face. "But you wouldn't." He said confidently.

"Why not?" Jeremy asked, eyes narrowed on the smirk still adorned on Landon's lips. He wanted that smirk wiped off. He wanted to see those lips begging and crying for him.

"Because you'd never be able to find a replacement," Landon replied, smooth and arrogant as well. "You know, for this little obsession you have with me."

"You think you're so high and mighty?" Jeremy's hand moved to grab Landon's throat. He pushed him until he had Landon pinned against the wall. The fucker laughed in his face.

"I know I am, Jerbear." Landon smirked, his eyes suggestively falling to Jeremy's scowling mouth. "I am better than your whole bloodline combined." He declared.

"You're just a ball of fluff against predators." Jeremy said. His eyes didn't leave Landon's face, desperate to see a flicker of something other than unbearable self-confidence.

"And yet, here you are with my claw mark on your neck." Landon purred, daring him. The bruise stung as if making a point on Landon's behalf. Jeremy leaned forward, his voice dropping to a husky tone.

"Careful, kotenok," He warned as he squeezed Landon's neck, feeling his pulse flutter beneath his thumb. "I could swallow you whole." He whispered.

Landon let out a gasp, inhaling for breath as Jeremy's grip tightened. He brought up his arm and jammed it against Jeremy's throat, sending him off balance. Landon stepped away from the wall, making sure he wouldn't corner him again. Jeremy quickly recovered from his stumble and lunged at Landon.

Landon sidestepped, but Jeremy’s hand shot out and grabbed his legs, sending both to the floor with a loud thud. Jeremy quickly moved above him, pinning him down.

"Stay fucking still," Jeremy said, his hand going back to Landon's throat. Landon's hand shot out to grab his arm, trying to pry it off.

"Choking kink, huh?" He grunted out as he struggled against Jeremy's hold. "How typical." He dared to smirk again.

"Shut up." Jeremy growled, pinning him further, and Landon's eyes screwed shut for a split second before opening them again. He tried to get his legs free and slammed his knee against Jeremy's shin.

When Jeremy's grip loosened, he shoved him off and stood. Jeremy quickly followed. His pupiles had narrowed into slits, an exact copy of his panther eyes. Landon threw a punch at him which landed on his jaw but Jeremy caught his wrist with a huff and pulled him against him. The breath was knocked out of Landon's lungs when he was slammed back against another wall.

His head spun and his bones rattled. He barely got time to recover when Jeremy was back on him, hand on his throat again and the other braced near his head.

"Going to kill me, Volkov?" Landon rasped out, eyes defiant even then. He heard footsteps outside his door followed by a knock.

"Lan?" Remington's voice poured in through the closed door. Jeremy tensed for a split second before leaning forward to drop his voice into a whisper.

"No," Jeremy said. It could've been considered gentle if not for the deathly grip he had on Landon's throat. "Now that I found out how breakable you are, it changes everything." Jeremy's eyes darkened.

"You're a joke, if you believe that." Landon said, starting to struggle against him as Remington knocked again. He heard more footsteps and opened his mouth to call out, but Jeremy slammed his free hand over it, silencing him.

"Landon!" Remington's voice grew as he pounded against the door. There was a pause outside, and Jeremy took the moment to tighten his grip on Landon's throat while moving his other hand to cover Landon's mouth and nose. The knockings grew. Multiple fists.

Landon's hands grabbed Jeremy's, trying to pry him off. He kicked helplessly at Jeremy’s feet, but Jeremy pressed against him and kept him pinned. Landon couldn't breathe, and his body was heating up, begging for air. A strange feeling gnawed at his gut as he felt on the brink of death. He could already see the headlines.

Landon King died of strangulation by an obssessed freak who broke into his room.

His knees almost gave out just then, but the bastard began to talk.

"I will ruin you." Jeremy whispered against his ear, a cruel smirk lifting his lips. "I will break you into pieces over and over again until whatever shattered pieces remain of you will only call my name."

Landon's cat ears twitched, and his tail slapped against Jeremy's thighs. His hands clawed at the chokehold Jeremy had on him, thrashing in his hold. Yet, Jeremy didn’t let go, not even when the knockings at his door increased.

"Landon, open the fucking door or I'm breaking it open!" Eli's fury laced voice rang out through the doors, but Landon felt it was far away. Too far.

"Landon!" Creighton, his voice louder than usual, yet so fucking faint.

"Goddammit, Lan, open the door!" Brandon. His twin brother, cursing.

Landon's eyes fluttered, his vision blackened and he could barely see Jeremy's face, or anything for that matter. His lungs closed in and his attempts at freeing himself became feeble as Jeremy kept his oxygen intake restricted.

He could hardly make out the rattling of the doorknob. Then, suddenly, Jeremy let go off him and his knees bucked, giving way to the floor beneath him. He fell with a thud, gasping and heaving. His vision danced with spots and he clutched his bare chest, frantic. He barely registered the door opening.

He felt hands on him, his brother’s, cousin's and Remi's. They were holding him, searching his body and neck but Landon couldn't hear what they were saying. Hell, he still couldn't breathe properly.

When his vision cleared, his eyes snapped to the open balcony and the threat of his personal predator. With a strange sense of dreed, Landon realised something.

Jeremy Volkov would keep good to his promise.