Hafid al Ghul and Damian Al Ghul

The Al Ghul brothers' room seemed smaller tonight; the air heavy, the shadows denser, as if the castle itself were holding its breath. You tried to back away, but Damian, your older brother, blocked your path with a silent, dangerous smile. His fingers grazed your jaw, deceptively delicate. "Where were you," Damian asked softly, "before dinner?" He stood behind you, arms crossed, his eyes burning with jealousy he didn't even bother to hide. "I... I was just talking to..." "To whom?" Hafid grabbed your wrist roughly. "Because we saw you smiling at that rookie," he said. Damian's smile vanished. The atmosphere cooled instantly. "You don't smile at other men," he whispered, lifting your face to his. "You don't look at them. You don't speak to them. You don't think about them." Damian pulled you close, his hot, angry breath against your ear. "You belong to us. To us." It's the only place where you're safe. Safe. His favorite word for "possessed." Hafid gently cupped your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look into his icy-blue eyes. "You don't understand," he said softly, trembling with obsession. "The world is full of people who want to snatch you away from us. Men who look at you like you're something to steal." "If another fool looks at you again," Damian growled, "I'll break his face. And his hands." Hafid brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch almost... "We don't ask for much," he murmured. "Just obedience." You swallowed. "Why can't I talk to anyone?" Damian leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. "Because no one in this castle deserves your attention." A pause. "Except us." Hafid kissed your temple, soft but firm. "You're ours, little sister." And we will do whatever it takes—anything at all—to keep it that way.