Tarnished Embers: A Dark Stepbrother Fairytale Retelling (Dark Retellings)

With a still-racing heart, I lead the guys to my wing. There’s something about having my own wing in a house that makes me feel icky, even though it’s been this way for the past couple of years since we moved here. It’s like I’m one of the many entitled, rich bitches at Morley College, expecting everything to be handed to me. Though, if I’m being honest, it’ll be nice not to be all alone in this part of the house anymore.

Caspian still has a firm grip on my hand, and even if tingles race from the place where we touch, there’s a comfort in it that I’m not looking too deep into. I don’t have the mental capacity to examine why my new stepbrothers affect me this way or why I feel so settled in their presence. All I know is that a maelstrom of lust, want, and need has filled my core from the first moment they walked into the room.

My room sits in the middle of this hallway, overlooking the extensive formal gardens, and I didn’t get the significance until now, but there are four other bedrooms, two on either side of mine. Fate strikes again, fucking bitch.

“Mine is the middle,” I tell them, pausing at the first door we come across while pointing at mine. “The bedrooms on either side are unoccupied.”

“I like that you’ll be in the middle of us,” Oct teases, his hand skating down my arm, making all the hairs stand on end even though I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt. I’ve the impression that he’s talking about more than the room, but before I can comment, he grabs the door handle and turns it, throwing open the carved, wooden door to reveal a room in the exact shade of blue as his eyes. Well, fuck me sideways.

No! No fornicating with your stepbrothers, Ember!

Again, my body disagrees as Caspian pulls us into the room, my entire being flooding with warmth at Oct’s words.

“This one is mine,” Oct states as he strides over to the French doors that open out onto a balcony. Oh shit, the balcony. I feel the blood drain from my face at the realisation. “A balcony that connects all the rooms, how convenient.” His voice is a low purr as he stalks back towards me like a jungle cat, just waiting to pounce. I clear my throat and chew on my lower lip, my thighs clenching together, trying to ease an ache that I’m refusing to admit is there.

“Yep, and they all have en suite bathrooms too. I’m sure you can change anything you don’t like,” I tell them in a slightly choked tone before looking around and trying to picture Oct’s enormous frame inside the space. They make these huge rooms feel small, and I don’t hate it. I love my room, it’s my sanctuary, but have often felt a little lost in this vast house, especially as normally, I’m the only one here aside from our staff who like to go about their business unseen and unheard. I have to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat before speaking once more, the idea that I might not be as alone as I have been hitting me hard. “Shall we see the others?”

Caspian’s hand squeezes mine as we leave Oct’s bedroom to open the next door, the room next to mine. Even though I knew the colours of the rooms up here, I’m still stunned to see that it’s also an exact match for Kit’s eyes. It’s painted blue, only a darker, moodier version with navy accents. What the actual fuck is going on with my life?

“It’s almost as if you knew we were coming,” Kit teases, walking around and eyeing the huge four-poster bed. Each room has one, complete with drapes that can be pulled shut to create an intimate sleeping space. Heat colours my cheeks at Kit’s words, and the bastard notices as he turns back to glance at me, a feline smile drawing his lush lips upwards. “What are you thinking about that has you blushing, Pretty Thing?”

“S–shall we move on?” I squeak out in a rush, turning on my heel and hurrying towards the door. Of course, I’m slowed down because Caspian won’t let go of my fucking hand.

“I want to see your room, Sugar,” Prince hums, and it’s not a request. No, there’s a note of command in his voice that renders me unable to deny him. Damn, this is not good. Why can’t I resist them?

Against my better judgement, I stop in front of my door, Caspian beside me and the others a furnace at my back. My free hand trembles as I reach out and grasp the handle, turning it while sunlight spills out of the room, filling me with sunshine and a lightness like it always does. For what feels like the first time since I walked into the house today, my lips pull up into a genuine smile.

“Fuck me, Little Cinders,” Caspian breathes out next to me, and I turn to look at him with raised brows. “We need to get you smiling like that more.”

I can feel the blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on my face deepen, and my pulse pounds as I look away, unable to hold his adoring stare any longer.

“This is me,” I tell them softly, inching into the space and trying to block the door as if I’m afraid they’ll somehow taint it with their…overbearing manliness. It’s a lost cause though because Caspian has a firm grip on my hand and uses it to move me aside.

“It’s perfectly you,” Prince declares, striding past me and looking around. I try to see what he means, to take it in as if for the first time. I was drawn to the soft yellow walls and the large windows that let in so much light; it’s an artist’s dream. Suddenly, my eyes widen, my stomach filling with damn butterflies as I catch the corner of the room in front of the windows that has my easel set up, my paints and charcoals strewn messily on a table beside it.

Caspian finally lets go of my hand, only to casually stroll over to the art space. It’s something that no one else has ever seen, not my father or any friends I’ve had over in the past, though there haven’t been many of those. Cas’s eyes take in the half-finished painting and then the others tacked onto the wall beside it.

“You’re an artist?” he questions, his tone soft and almost reverent. The others join him while I’m rooted to the spot, wanting to bolt and scream at them to leave all at once. I can’t see their faces fully, only the side of them, so I don’t know what they’re thinking. He turns to face me and then his eyes lock onto mine, something unreadable in his expression, and I still can’t move, trapped as my soul is laid bare for these strangers. “Little Cinders, these are amazing.” Something inside me warms, liking his praise, my body losing all tension as his words flow over me.

“I’m taking this one,” Prince states, tearing my gaze from Caspian’s as he reaches over to pluck a drawing from the wall. It’s an ink and watercolour of a phoenix in flight, the bright orange and yellow colours dripping down the page, the ink splattered across it. I made it recently, feeling like after five years I was finally rising from the ashes that were left after Mum passed.

“Is that okay, Little Cinders?” Caspian asks seriously, and in that moment, I know that Caspian would tell Prince to fuck off if I said it wasn’t okay. I’ve somehow gained a protector in the past half an hour, and it’s enough to almost bring tears to my eyes. I swallow hard, my eyes flicking back to Prince who still holds my drawing, his expression intense, his brows lowered like he’s waiting for me to deny him.

“S–sure,” I say, licking my lips, and for a moment they all stare at me with molten fire in their gazes, their eyes shining like jewels. Prince’s lips kick up in a half smile that leaves my knees weak, and I’m sure I’d give him all my drawings if he smiles at me like that every time.

“Then I want one,” Oct declares, his eyes leaving mine to roam over the wall. “That one.” He points to another of my watercolours, this one a pink, purple, and turquoise octopus, and I see it suits his surfer vibe. I made it recently too, after a rare day when Dad took time off work to take us for a weekend away by the sea in Cornwall. Part of me now wonders if he spent that time with me, knowing that Odette would soon join us and it wouldn’t be just him and I any longer. Oct carefully takes it off the wall, then reaches for another and pulls that off too. “This one can be yours, Kit.”

Kit takes the painting, also of an octopus, but this one is in shades of deep violet and navy with galaxy stars down its side and pouring out of it in an ink spill across the page. This image makes my chest tight because I painted it a few years back when I was in a bit of a dark place. My hand rubs over my shirtsleeve, over the scars that litter my forearm from that time, the reason I wear long shirts even on the warmest of days. Kit’s lips lift, and he looks up at me.

“You are exceptionally talented, Pretty Thing.”

“T–thank you,” I reply in a rasping whisper, feeling like I’m too raw. To most, these are just pictures of animals, but each one holds a special meaning to me, as if they’re a part of me. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t want to part with them, but for some reason, I don’t mind each of them taking one. I like that they’ll have such a special part of me with them.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“Will you choose one for me, Little Cinders?” Caspian pleads, and my gaze flies to him, my heart suddenly pounding. “Please?”

He holds his hand out, and the others stand back a little. Slowly, reluctantly, I inch towards him, my palms sweating and I’m not even sure why. I let him take my hand, and he pulls me in front of him, wrapping his arms around me from behind and engulfing me in his scent of caramel apples. It calms me, even though I know it shouldn’t because we’re effectively strangers, and I let myself sink into him just like I did with Prince on the stairs. A contented rumble sounds from his chest and he pulls me even closer. I let my hands rest on his arms, his muscles tensing and proving that he’s every bit a man who could pin me down right. Dammit, Ember! Not the fucking time for dirty thoughts of your stepbrother.

My eyes roam over the drawings, noting the gaps now that the others have taken their paintings. Then my vision snags on a dragonfly in shades of red and bronze, and I know that this belongs to Caspian.

“Did you know dragonflies symbolise change? Transformation?” I tell them, leaving the warmth of Caspian’s embrace to reach for the picture and take it off the wall. “It reminds us to open our hearts to change and encourage us to feel relaxed, even when situations are difficult.” I turn and look at Caspian as I say the last part, his copper eyes so intense that they’re practically glowing. “This is the picture I think you should have, Cas.”

His irises flare brighter at the nickname that slips out from my lips, and his smile stops my heart altogether.

“Thank you, Ember.”

Oh lordt, when he says my name like that, like I’m something precious to be cherished and looked after, I can’t think of a single response.

“Why don’t you show Cas and I our rooms, darlin’?” Prince drawls from behind Cas, and blinking as if coming out of a daze, I look over at him and nod.

“Of course, you guys must be exhausted.”

“Not too tired to— Oomph.” I look at Oct, seeing him rub his side and giving Cas a death glare. A small giggle bursts from my lips, even as my cheeks warm, wondering what Oct was about to say. Surely he can’t have meant…

“Add that sound to the ‘noises we need Ember to make every day’ list,” Kit declares, striding forward and grabbing my hand before pulling me towards the door, the others following behind us.

“I’ve another sound I’d like to he— Fuck, dude!” Oct curses, and I know that Cas, who seems to have become my protector, has once again stopped Oct from saying something that might be a little too much for me right now.

I barely repress a groan when we reach the room on the other side of mine and open the door. Shades of green greets us, from a deep, almost black to a bright emerald and I know by the way that Prince saunters into the space that he’s already laid claim to this one.

“I like the idea of being next door to you, Sugar,” he purrs, and again, all the hair on my body stands on end as his gaze slides up and down me. I just hope the walls are thick, because the idea of him being able to hear every noise I make in my room is enough to have me in cold sweats.

“Can you show me my room, Little Cinders?” Cas gently asks, stepping in front of me and once again bringing me back to the present, grounding me in the way that he seems to be able to do. I could kiss him for that. Fuck! No kissing your stepbrothers.

Taking my hand in his again, he tugs me towards the door. Kit keeps hold of my other hand, both of them refusing to let me go, and I can’t say that I dislike being between them.

We come to the last room at the end of the corridor, and before Cas even opens the door, I know just how wide his grin will be. I’ve never enjoyed the colour brown before, but when he looks back over his shoulder at me after opening the door, his copper eyes twinkling, I know that fate really is some kind of masochist.

“Aside from my bedroom, these rooms were all decorated by the interior designer Dad hired. I had nothing to do with the colours up here,” I rush to tell them, feeling the need to justify how perfect these rooms are for each of them, but Cas’s grin just gets wider.

“Of course they were,” Oct says, his voice light and teasing as his fingers brush the back of my neck, sending a tremble over my muscles. Cas pulls me into his room, and as Kit refuses to let go of my hand, he comes too as we look around.

“Sirs, Miss,” a male voice interrupts, and I jerk my hands out of their grasp, my fingers gripping each other tightly as I spin, looking at Reginald from across the room with wide eyes. I can just make out the three guys around me, Oct still at my back, all with completely nonplussed expressions on their faces, the bastards.

“Yes, Reginald?” I ask, my voice higher-pitched than usual. My stomach churns, as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have.

“I’ve instructed the staff to bring up the bags. We just need to know which room is whose?”

“Oh, of course. This is Cas’s— I mean Caspian’s room. The one next to this is Prince’s. Then Kit’s is on the other side of mine and Oct’s is next to his.”

“Thank you, Miss. I shall get the bags into their rightful places shortly,” he replies, giving us a small bow which still makes me cringe even though he’s been doing it since we moved here two years ago. If he saw anything before he spoke, he doesn’t make any kind of reference to it now, just turns and leaves like the professional he is. My shoulders rise and fall with a deep inhale, and then turning back around, I face the guys, my new stepbrothers, once more. I have to take a step back though when I find Oct smirking at me as he stands closer than before.

“I’ll leave you to settle in. I have some coursework I need to catch up on anyway. Dad has some plans for dinner, I’m sure, so I’ll see you then?” I don’t mean it to sound like a question, to sound so fucking desperate, like I need them more than I really ought to. I meant to be firm, confident, but I guess that ship has fucking sailed.

“Wouldn’t miss it, little sis,” Oct answers first, and I blink at the nickname. They’ve each given me one and although I always thought they were cheesy, I secretly have always wanted a guy to give me one. Preferably, one I was dating and not my new siblings, but this seems to be my life now so I may as well roll with it.

He strides towards me, leaning in to place a kiss on the corner of my lips, leaving them tingling and me aching for a little more. I know the placement is completely intentional as he gives me a wink and then saunters out of the door.

Kit is next, kissing the other side, and his tongue flicks out just briefly to taste me. A shuddering exhale leaves my lungs, but all I can do is stand still and flex my fingers at my sides as his hand ghosts across my hip. “See you soon, pretty thing.” And then he’s gone.

Prince stalks over to me, and something inside me recognises him as an apex predator, but my fight-or-flight mode is firmly stuck on freeze because I just watch, my heart pounding in my ears as he gets closer. His hand captures my chin, his jewel-green eyes tracing over my face as if he’s memorising every line. He lowers his face until his lips are a hair’s breadth from my own, and if I take a big inhale, I know that the distance will close. A part of me wants to do it too, and my lids lower over my eyes in preparation, his intoxicating, spiced rum scent making my head spin.

Instead, cold air hits my lips as his warm breath moves to my ear. “Until dinner.” His voice is a low, husky whisper and sends shivers cascading down my spine with the promise in his words.

I blink, and he’s gone, leaving me chilled and feeling empty, my arms coming up to wrap around myself. Then there’s just Cas left, standing a few feet away and watching me with an intense stare.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, and my lips tremble as the past hour comes crashing down around me, a small whimper leaving my throat. It’s all just been so much, finding out that not only was my father seeing someone without telling me, but got married and I didn’t even get an invite, and now, not only do I have a new stepmother, but four super hot stepbrothers that I want to ride like a train, even though that’s all kinds of messed up. Never mind the fact that they seem to be interested in me as more than just their new sister. It’s all a fucking mess and tears sting my eyes as everything suddenly hits me. “Oh, baby.” He rushes over, sweeping me into his arms and pulling me so close that the front of our bodies mould together. “I know that this must be so fucking crazy for you, and I’m sorry to add to any kind of heartache that you’re going through,” he tells me, placing a kiss on the top of my trembling head, the tears I was trying to hold back spilling down my cheeks at his sweet words. “But I won’t apologize for wanting you just as much as my brothers do. You are perfect, Ember. We will take care of you, whatever you need, you only have to ask and I swear it will be yours. There is just one thing we won’t do.”

I pull back, my neck craning even as my fingers clutch at his already wrinkled T-shirt, moisture dotting my eyelashes. “What’s that, Cas?”

“We won’t leave you alone. You are now ours. You are the first thing to ever truly belong to us, and we will never let you go.”