Tao knew he couldn't choose the memories. Not the ones he received or gave up. It was no use struggling against them, but he couldn't convince his mind of that. His body shook, from the inside out and he gagged at the feel of the cold dead eyes. His eyes squeezed shut and he had to lift his head. His grip on Wolfram's hips now steadying, keeping him upright. Somehow, his mind made sense of it, of the need of it, the importance of it, as if it was somehow, an honor. Yet his body protested, his heart seized, even as he tried to remember that his heart, wasn't beating.
The gasp overlapped with another, one from memory, one he instinctively tried to bury again. He could feel himself yank at it, try to pull it back and shove it into the dark but that only made the ripping of it from his mind more painful and his body bowed as he landed back on the ground. He was meant to be her beau, to court his sister, he'd arranged it, so naive, so young, to think he was a good match for his sister. He hadn't wanted his sister, he wanted him. He had only his sister left, but nothing would protect her. Not from his sire. He could feel the wound silver bindings digging into his wrists, his ankles as he pulled, screamed, anything to get her to wake up, but she was under a thrall. Even as she rode his body, unaware of what she was doing. Awareness came to her eyes only seconds before the blood. Her death throes pulling the orgasm from him as her lifeless body fell on top of him and bled out. His whimper was echoed in the now and Tao shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes.