Craved By My Ex-Boyfriend's Psychopath Older Brother

Eden’s Point of View 

“Your grades are terrible.” My father’s voice was laced with disappointment as he flipped through the file in his hands. A moment later, his green eyes snapped up to glare at me. “How is this even possible?”

“Those aren’t my grades.” I reminded him, lifting a brow in confusion, my gaze flickering between him and my half-sister, Evangeline, who sat with her head bowed in shame.

She was only a year younger than me, yet our relationship had been terrible. Truthfully, my relationship with my family was horrible. My father despised me, Evangeline couldn’t stand me, and her mother, Iris, wasn’t any different.

“I know,” he muttered gruffly, his brows furrowing as he continued flipping through Evangeline’s folder. “But just because they aren’t yours doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take responsibility for them. How can your younger sister have such awful grades while yours are excellent?”

“Maybe because I actually study and she doesn’t?” I said bluntly, spearing a sausage on my plate with my fork. “Do you really expect her to get A’s when all she does is go shopping every day?”

I was already losing patience with the conversation, irritation creeping into my voice.

“She does try to study,” her mother cut in sharply, shooting me a glare. “But you’re always hogging the computer and refusing to let her use it. How exactly is she supposed to study like that?”

“That’s a lie,” I thought, but I said nothing, I try my possible best to stop myself from speaking to her.

“How can you be so selfish?” Father asked, his tone laced with disbelief. “I bought that computer so both of you could use it for studying. Do you think it belongs only to you?”

“I can tolerate a lot of things,” I said, my voice trembling slightly as I set my fork down on the plate. My appetite had vanished. “But I’m not going to sit here and let you make it sound like it’s my fault your favorite daughter is failing in school.”

“Eden!” Father snapped.

I sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for the slap to come, but luckily this time it didn’t came.

“How dare you speak to me like that? Have you no manners? I am your father, and you will respect me.”

I fell silent again, my fingers tightening around the edge of my seat.

“Enjoy your meal,” I muttered as I pushed my chair back and stood up. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I turned to leave the table.

“Are you walking to school?” Evangeline asked, faking worry.

“Don’t bother with her. She’s just trying to get attention again,” Father muttered indifferently, as if I had already left the room. That didn’t stop him from continuing. “You should speak up more often. Don’t let her bully you. I’ll buy you a laptop at the end of the month, so you don’t get to share with that greedy girl.”

At this point, I couldn’t even find the energy to be angry anymore. Evangeline had always gotten the better things—better clothes, better phones, better books. And now she would be getting a brand-new laptop too.

She had our father’s love and affection.

While I had… nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

I still had my pride, and I clung to it stubbornly as I walked to school, my thoughts drifting. I couldn’t help but wonder how different my life would have been if my mother were still alive.

I never got the chance to meet her. I had only seen her in old pictures, but she looked kind in them.

“Eden!” Lola, my best friend, called out as she hurried toward me just as I reached the school gates, her brown hair bounced as she rushed towards me. A faint smile tugged at my lips. At least today wasn’t completely terrible.

“Your dad didn’t drop you off today?” she asked, looking around. “Where is Evangeline?”

My expression must have changed because Lola immediately noticed. She cupped my face gently, her brows knitting together in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, forcing a small smile. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Oh!” Her voice suddenly pitched higher as she pointed ahead. “Look, there’s Thorne.”

I froze.

My eyes lifted and landed on the familiar silver gaze of my boyfriend, who stood only a few feet away. For a brief moment, our eyes met.

But the second he recognized me, he turned away and walked off.

As if I had never been there in the first place.

“Wait…” Lola frowned in confusion when I simply continued walking toward our classroom like nothing unusual had happened. “Are you two, okay?”

I shook my head.

“We’re not speaking,” I said as calmly as I could, trying to pretend like I wasn’t affected by this.

“Why?” she asked, sounding genuinely shocked, as if that was the worst thing that could happen to anyone.

“He thinks we should take a break,” I explained quietly. “He wants us to…uh… be together.”

“Have sex?” she asked, and I nodded.

“But I’m not ready yet.”

“That idiot,” she muttered under her breath, her face full of irritation. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at how angry she looked. “Why does he keep pushing you about it anyway? If a guy really cares about you, that shouldn’t be the only thing on his mind.”

Maybe Thorne doesn’t love me.

And as much as I wanted to end things with him completely… I just couldn’t.

I love him.

And I want to have sex for him, but I just couldn’t.

I was scared.

“You shouldn’t waste your thoughts on a jerk like that,” Lola continued as we stepped into the hallway. “But speaking of him, I heard we’re getting a new transfer student today.”

“Really?” I asked curiously.

She nodded, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I heard he’s Thorne’s older brother.”

“Thorne’s older brother?” I repeated in surprise. I had heard Thorne mention his brother once or twice, but never in detail—and in those rare moments, the way he spoke about him was filled with nothing but hatred, anger, and resentment.

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought he had an older brother like that? Apparently, he’s bad news,” Lola continued. I leaned closer, even more curious now. “He spent three years in a correctional center.”

“Wait… he’s been to prison?” I asked in horror.

“No,” she corrected. “He wasn’t eighteen yet at the time, so he was sent to juvie for three years. After that, he spent two more years in therapy. Now he’s finally out and apparently trying to reintegrate, which is why he’s transferring to our school.”

That sounded seriously dangerous.

Why would the school allow someone like that to attend classes with the rest of us?

“Do you know what he was sent there for?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Not really,” she whispered. “But I heard it was something violent. They warned us beforehand to stay away from him. He’s seriously dangerous.”

Sure.

I would definitely stay away from someone like that.

Or at least… that’s what I thought.

Until I saw him walked into the classroom.

His eyes were a cold, metallic silver—sharp as a blade—and his face was completely devoid of emotion. He carried an aura that screamed danger, the kind that was both terrifying and intriguing; like lightning.

Theron Adler, twenty-two years old, and a clinically diagnosed psychopath.