Chapter Seventy

REMI'S POV

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the snowy mountain landscape visible through the expansive windows. Outside, the world was blanketed in pristine white, the snowflakes drifting down like tiny, delicate feathers. The harsh winter wind howled, rattling the panes and sending a chill through the room, even though the kitchen itself was warm and inviting. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

I found the twins in the kitchen, both engrossed in their own tasks. Rhodes stood behind a bar-like counter, his posture casual but his movements precise as he mixed a drink. The clinking of glass and the gentle hiss of the shaker punctuated the silence. Rhodes’s dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and his deep violet eyes, nearly lost in shadow, reflected a guarded intensity. His attire was laid-back—a simple black shirt and dark jeans—yet there was something almost deliberate about his ease.

Kallias was more prominent in his presence, standing shirtless in the center of the room. His skin, pale against the stark white snow outside, glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. Tattoos wound across his arms and chest, intricate designs that spoke of his strength and history. He leaned against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand, though he seemed to drink more from the bitterness in his own thoughts than the brew.

The room was softly lit, the golden glow from the overhead light casting warm shadows against the dark, wooden walls. The stone fireplace crackled softly, a small comfort against the frigid cold outside. Despite the warmth, a sense of unease settled over me as I watched them. It was as if their aura was too cold to be entirely comforting.

“Hi,” I said, trying to inject some cheerfulness into my voice.

The twins barely acknowledged my presence. Rhodes focused intently on his drink, pouring a dark liquid with practiced precision. His gaze was distant, his attention split between the task and whatever thoughts weighed heavily on his mind. Kallias’s eyes flickered up, and he offered a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Everything all right?” I asked, feeling a pang of concern as I took in their rigid postures and furrowed brows.

Rhodes barely looked up. “We have a lot on our minds, Darling.”

Kallias’s expression softened slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remained. “It’s been a complicated day,” he added, his voice betraying a hint of the stress that clearly gnawed at him.

I tried to lighten the mood, reaching for the French press to make myself a cup of coffee. As I poured the steaming liquid, I couldn’t help but notice how the twins seemed to be wrapped in their own private storm. I felt a sharp pang of sadness. They were so consumed by whatever burden they carried that it seemed as though they were drifting further away from me.

I stepped closer to Kallias, his violet eyes meeting mine with a flicker of surprise. He was tall and imposing, his broad shoulders and muscular build only adding to his intimidating presence. I placed a gentle hand on his arm, feeling the hard, tense muscle beneath my fingers.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked, my voice soft but insistent.

He looked down at me, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. His eyes softened just a fraction, but the stress remained etched in the lines of his face. Before he could answer, I took a bold step forward, my hand slipping down to graze the front of his jeans. His breath hitched, and he glanced at Rhodes, who had paused his drink-making, his attention now fully on us.

I grab a cup from the cupboard and pour myself some coffee, keeping a careful eye on the brothers. They seem so wrapped up in their own issues that I feel compelled to lighten the mood. I step closer to Kallias, leaning in with a teasing smile.

“You seem a bit tense, Kallias,” I say softly, brushing my fingers against his arm. “You know, Keiran has been talking about how he wants to fuck me.”

Kallias’s eyes flash with surprise before he masks his reaction, his lips forming a tight line. Rhodes, who was meticulously pouring a drink into a glass, freezes mid-pour. The tension in the room spikes.

“Really now?” Rhodes says, his voice low and edged. He turns his gaze toward me, his dark eyes sharp. “And what’s your take on that?”

“Oh, nothing much,” I say with a playful shrug. “But I’m curious. Are you really going to let him get away with that?”

Rhodes’s jaw clenches, and he looks like he’s battling with his own frustration. Kallias shifts, visibly uncomfortable but struggling to keep his composure.

“Darling,” Rhodes says, his voice dropping to a warning growl. “We’ve had a long and complicated day. This might not be the best time.”

Kallias’s grip tightens on his mug, his knuckles turning white as he clenches it. He tries to avoid meeting my gaze, but I can see the strain in his eyes.

Kallias let out a low groan, his eyes closing for a moment as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Darling, this really isn’t the time.”

“Oh, really?” I replied, a playful edge to my voice. “I think it’s the perfect time.”

I turn to Rhodes, who was watching us with a mixture of curiosity and frustration. I moved closer, slipping my hand down the front of his jeans. He jolted slightly, his reaction a mix of surprise and barely contained desire. He set the mixing bowl aside with a clatter, his attention now entirely on me.

“Why is everyone suddenly turning me away?” I asked, frustration lacing my voice. The distance between us felt like an insurmountable chasm, and I was aching to bridge it.

Rhodes’s eyes darkens, a flicker of something primal and intense passing through them. “We’ve had a lot to deal with,” he said, his voice low and strained. “It’s not the best time for... distractions.”

I sigh, pulling away and crossing my arms over my chest. The sadness in their eyes is palpable, and it tugs at my heart. I knew they were struggling, and but it hurts to see them so distant. I felt like I was on the outside looking in, unable to reach them no matter how much I tried.

Kallias’s gaze follows me as I walk away, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and frustration. “Darling,” he calls softly, “please. We just need some time.”

I didn’t say anything, but I nodded, the ache in my chest growing. I reached the doorway, casting one last look over my shoulder. “Fine,” I say, my voice carrying a note of resignation. “I’ll just occupy myself.”

I walk out of the kitchen, the sound of clinking glass and the soft murmur of their conversation fading behind me. As I stepped into the hall, the snowstorm outside seemed to mirror the turmoil within me. The world beyond was a frozen wasteland, and inside, I felt just as isolated and distant from the ones I cared about.

My footsteps echo in the hallway, but the weight of their attention lingers, a reminder that even in a house full of secrets, the games we play are the ones that keep everyone on edge.