Twin Alpha's Black Hearts

Godiva

"No! What have I done?"

I jolted upright, heart racing as I fumbled for the light switch. The dimness disappeared as the room lit up, revealing a familiar face—Castor, or so I thought. But then I saw it: the piercing on his eyebrow.

It wasn't Castor.

The truth hit me like a sledgehammer. Pollux. His twin. Identical. I covered my mouth, overwhelmed by disbelief, my mind spinning. How could I not have noticed? I stood frozen, naked before him, too shocked to care about my exposed vulnerability.

"What just happened? Why did you do that to me? How could you be so cruel?"

I can't think straight. Everything happened so fast, and I let myself get swept up in it. Now, I feel sick to my core—disgusted with myself for letting it happen.

His eyes lingered on me—unblinking, hungry. The air between us thickened with silent tension.

"One thing I love in a girl is innocence, in all its forms. I’m surprised Castor hasn’t marked you yet. Guess I got lucky first." Pollux smirked, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"Pollux," I seethed, barely able to speak through the rising bile in my throat. "You're disgusting!"

"There are only two types of men in this world: assholes or gay men," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I’m no saint, and I’m definitely not gay."

My hands shook as I scrambled to dress, trying to block out his presence, his words. But his smacking lips, his audacity, made me want to scream. I could feel the tears welling, but I swallowed them down, fighting the storm inside me.

"I hate you!" I spat, my voice cracking as the tears finally fell. I sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, my back to him. I buried my face in my hands, letting the sobs escape.

I felt him move, his hand tilting my chin upwards. He was fully dressed now, wearing that same smug expression. I hated how he made me feel—violated, powerless.

"I'll remember this night forever, sweet pea," he whispered. His words felt like a brand on my skin.

In a surge of anger, I slapped him. The sound echoed in the room, my hand stinging from the impact. He touched his cheek, looking more amused than hurt. The satisfaction was fleeting as he caught my wrist before I could strike again.

"I'd rather those hands touch me with something other than hate. Next time, don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

"There won't be a next time," I hissed, our faces inches apart. "I swear."

Pollux smirked, but there was an edge to his gaze, a warning. He released my hand and walked out. The weight of what had just happened crushed me. Everything I'd hoped for, everything I'd promised myself—to save that part of me for someone I loved—was gone.

Castor.

The events from earlier keep spiraling in my mind. I’m lost—I don’t know how to face this, let alone explain it to Castor. Pollux’s sudden appearance and his intentions caught me completely off guard, something I never could have imagined.

I had to leave. I couldn’t face him, not after this. But as I zipped my suitcase, his voice stopped me cold.

"Don't even think about leaving, Godiva."

I turned to find him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Castor... I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know."

My voice trembled, guilt flooding every word. I couldn’t even look at him. I squeezed the fabric of my skirt, waiting for him to speak, to condemn me for what I’d done.

Instead, he stepped closer. "Can I touch you?"

His words made my heart ache. He was asking permission—so different from his brother. I nodded, tears streaming down my face as he pulled me into his arms.

"I didn’t tell you the full truth about Pollux," he said softly, stroking my hair. "I should’ve warned you."

"I'm ashamed," I whispered. "I betrayed you."

Castor gently pulled away, wiping the tears from my cheeks. His touch was tender, and it only made me feel worse.

"Rest now," he murmured. "We’ll talk tomorrow. I promise it will be okay."

"But I—"

"Shh," he insisted, his voice soothing. "Sleep. Everything will be fine."

Reluctantly, I obeyed. I crawled back into bed, my heart heavy. Castor pulled the blanket over me, kissed my forehead, and left. I lay there in the dark, trying to push away the horrors of the day. But the guilt, the shame—it wouldn’t leave.

I eventually drifted into restless sleep.

Pollux PoV.

A knock at the door interrupted the stillness in my room. I knew who it was before I even answered.

Castor walked in, his gaze icy. He didn't sit, just stood there, the dominant force between us even though we were equals in every other way. I leaned back, waiting for his reprimand.

"Mark her soon," he said coldly. "She’s not one of the girls you toy with, Pollux. I’m angry, but I’m holding back. If you hurt her again, I won’t."

His jaw tightened, and I knew he meant every word. He would fight me if it came to that. Not that I blamed him. Godiva was different, but I wasn’t ready to admit it yet. My past with Benedetta—my mistrust of women—it held me back.

"I’ll try," I muttered. "But you know why I’m hesitant."

"That doesn’t excuse hurting her. She’s your second chance, Pollux." I saw some anger on his face.

He was right. As much as I hated to admit it.

"We'll talk about the vampire problem tomorrow. For now, get some sleep," he said, his voice laced with exhaustion.

But sleep was the last thing on my mind.

As I lay there, Godiva’s scent still clung to me—sweet, intoxicating. It drove me wild, made me lose control. And then, something else caught my attention.

A scent. Faint but unmistakable. I shot out of bed, moving toward the window, pulling the curtains aside to peer into the darkness.

"Vampire," I muttered, a shiver running down my spine.