Fate of a Royal

(Lords of Rathe #1)

by

Amo Jones and Meagan Brandy

Copyright © 2023 Amo Jones and Meagan Brandy

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events,
and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All
credit goes to the original owner.
 Contents
Dear Reader,

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29

Thank You
Acknowledgments
 Dedication

To the girls who fuck the villains.

Open your mouth wide and take it like a good girl.
 Dear Reader,

This book may contain scenes that can be considered triggering for some
readers. Please be mindful of your own as you dive in…

And holy shit … time to buckle up, turn the page, and enjoy the fucking
ride!

XoXo,
Amo and Meagan.
 One

L ondon

C ?
My eyes dart to the game clock for what feels like the hundredth time,
Trevor’s never-ending mouth still running as it’s been since the drop of the
puck that started today’s exhibition game.
Why I agreed to sit with my arrogant ex tonight, I have no idea. We’ll
just add it to the list of shit decisions I’m known to make.
If Ben didn’t spend his entire paycheck on a season ticket so his “best
friend can park her ass front and center and watch him whoop ass,” I would
have left in the first period because goddamn. Trevor spent the whole
intermission whining. How many times can a girl listen to her bitch-boy-ex
moan all the reasons I should “reconsider breaking up with him because
girls want to date him, and he won’t wait around forever.”
Like, hel-fuucking-lo? Was my bitch, you can have his deficient dick
ass and the rock through his passenger window—purely for good measure
—too subtle?
Apparently, the answer to that is a big fat yes.
 The man, if you can call him one, has been begging me to come to my
senses for two weeks now.
I didn’t exactly want him before a girl in my dorm said she saw him in
the parking lot with some other chick, so I sure as shit don’t want him now.
I was just waiting for someone to come take him off my hands and I knew
his wandering eye would bring that to fruition.
Huh, maybe that’s why the dorm girl, whose name I can’t remember,
looked at me like I was crazy when she rushed over to rat him out.
Pretty sure my response was a smile.
I might have even skipped out of the common room.
It’s like I said, I didn’t much care for him. He was fun to pass the time
with at first, and that’s about it. Maybe it’s shitty I didn’t break it off with
him sooner, but I knew he was going to cheat, just like I knew he was going
to come crawling back afterward.
My life may be chaotic, but my senses are on point and have never led
me astray.
The question was never will he. It was when will he.
So, yeah, I like making other people the bad guy. Fucking sue me.
Better yet, shoot me. Right now. This guy is still talking.
“I’m serious, London. You have no idea how many girls have hit on me
on campus. I’m trying to give you a chance here.”
I look at the clock. Three minutes until Ben’s dream of an undefeated
season is smashed to shit. They’re about to be served a hard loss from Rathe
U, the other college we share this town with, officially making it painfully
obvious that when they face them in the regular season…they have zero
chance of winning.
But why does this feel like the longest game in the history of hockey?
The moment I ask myself that question, the universe has a laugh at my
expense when the reason himself bitches a little more.
 “Are you going to talk to me at all?” Trevor snaps angrily, crossing his
arms like the man-child he is. Ick.
“What do you want me to say?” That you smell like you bathed in your
grandpa’s cologne, and you’re as basic and boring as pretty boys come?
“That it’s all good you fucked some chick in the back seat of your car in the
parking lot outside my dorm?”
He sits forward swiftly, and in my peripheral, I catch his creamy-
colored skin growing crimson when a few students around us don’t even
attempt to hide their reactions. They’ve been sighing and shaking their
heads the entire time, forced to listen to him cry right along with me.
They’re laughing at his ass now.
I think I might owe the strangers a beer after this.
Three seconds left.
“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” he hisses in my ear.
I don’t care enough to roll my eyes.
Finally, the clock hits zero, and the opposite side of the arena shouts and
cheers as ours rush to clear their seats, hoping to avoid getting stuck in
shoulder-to-shoulder crowds on the walk back to campus.
Trevor hops up, offering me his hand, and I scoff, lifting my legs and
stretching them over the now-empty seat in front of me.
His lip curls. “You can’t possibly plan to sit here and wait until Ben’s
ready to leave? He’s not even off the ice yet!”
I ignore him, lifting my lemonade to my lips as I wrap my jacket tighter
around me. How Ben gets so sweaty in a room filled with ice is beyond me.
The cheap vodka I poured in makes a poor excuse for a lemon drop, but
it’s also the only thing that stopped me from tearing off Trevor’s head
during the game. He waits until the aisles around us are empty, then huffs,
throwing himself into the seat as if he can’t believe he has to stay here
longer. It’s as if he’s convinced himself I invited him tonight or that I
actually want him to stick around. Neither is true.
 Little by little, the arena begins to clear, the teams making their way
back into the locker room, one to be praised while the other gets their asses
reamed, and poor Ben is on the shit end of the stick. He did score a goal
tonight though, even if he’ll swear it doesn’t count when I do my best friend
duty and focus on this fact in my attempt at a post-drunken pep talk. He’ll
remind me nothing but the scoreboard matters, and no line I throw at him
will make a difference.
Oh, but there’s a positive that comes from this. Losing means we’re
getting fucked up tonight.
Being the rational, responsible one of the two of us, angry and “fuck it”
Ben is few and far between, but also my favorite version. I live for the
nights my number one is down to get good and trashed, and they’ve become
more rare these days. His studies and position on the ice create an even
more dedicated version of the best guy I know.
Dozens of ideas of the shenanigans we might get into tonight dance in
my mind and a happy little sigh escapes as I drain the contents of my cup,
the first initial buzz finally kicking in.
Of course, Trevor ruins it by opening his mouth, effectively ending the
blissful silence.
“You know Ben’s in love with you, right?” he huffs as he looks around,
shaking his head as if the arena itself is offensive to him.
It probably is. Poor little rich boy. I don’t even know why he’s at this
second-rate school.
The way he tells it, Mommy and Daddy could have gotten him into any
school of his choice. He loves to share how rich they are, almost as if he
uses it as a tactic to try to get laid, but he should put more thought into his
storytelling because, again, why would he be a student at Daragan State
when the nicer school in this town is the one that just whooped our asses for
the last sixty minutes?
“London! Are you even listening to me?”
 If it were possible to mute his voice, the answer would be a hard no.
Alas, I cannot, so this time I do roll my eyes, purely so he can see how
much he’s annoying me while internally hoping he takes the hint and goes
the fuck away.
“Yes, I’m listening, and no, he isn’t.”
In three, two, one…
“You’re blind if you don’t think so, but I’m convinced you already
know. Maybe that’s why you broke up with me? Maybe you just…”
I tune him out again, singing the chorus to “My Own Summer” in my
head, when a sense of awareness trickles down my spine.
My eyes snap up and a little to the left, narrowing on the tunnel across
the way. A group of guys stand there, one with his attention pointed this
way…I think.
His hair is as dark as his hoodie, but he’s too far for me to notice
anything else. It doesn’t matter, though, because I still can’t look away. My
eyes travel the length of him, snapping to another dark-haired guy to his left
when he joins, slinging an arm over the first one’s shoulder. There are
equipment bags hanging from their hands.
So they play for Rathe U…but how did they get changed so quickly?
The guys take a few backward steps, and I swear they’re staring right at
me. I can almost feel it; it’s as if the weight of their eyes is pressing against
my neck, causing me to swallow.
If they’re not looking at me, then I’m going crazy and becoming too
much of a lightweight, ’cause I only poured a couple shots into my cup.
“Are you serious right now?!” Trevor seethes.
Suddenly, my chin is gripped, my head snapped to the side, and I shoot
to my feet so fast my vision blurs. Before he has time to process, I’m
standing and shoving him so hard he nearly falls over the seats, but
unfortunately, he doesn’t. He catches himself at the last second.
 “Who the hell do you think you are?” I snap, storming into the aisle and
taking the stairs two at a time.
Anger heats my skin, and my fingers begin to tremble the way they
always do when I’m pissed, so I shove them into my jeans pockets to hide
them. Fuck, if I’ll allow him to think I’m shaking in fear.
There’s nothing about him that scares me.
“You’re unbelievable, London! You’ve been ignoring me this entire
time and you want to stare off at some stupid group of jocks from the other
school while I’m still right beside you? What kind of shit is that?”
Jesus. This guy.
“I can stare at whoever I want, Trevor. I can fuck whoever I want, too—
something you decided to do while we were still together.” I use that word
loosely. “So excuse me if the mere sight of you makes me want to vomit all
over my shoes. And that’s saying something because these are Jordan 4s
and I just got them.”
We reach the entrance to the tunnel, and he bumps his shoulder into
mine as he stocks off with a muttered “bitch.”
I wait until he rounds the corner, and then a smile breaks free.
Fucking finally!
I take a step in the same direction, fully intending on curving the
opposite way as he did, even if it’s the long way around to where Ben will
be coming out of the locker room, but my feet lock in place.
A knot forms low in my stomach, and I wonder if the vodka isn’t sitting
well with the nachos I had during the second intermission, but then my feet
lock in place as if invisible chains have broken through the cement to hold
them there. My head whips over my shoulder, eyes called to the same place
they were a few moments ago. To the tunnel where four of Rathe U’s finest
stood.
Only this time, there’s no one there…
 Two

K night

C ,
on his face mirroring my own. If we knew the Giftless would be going
cheap tonight, we would have found ourselves someone to play with at the
game and headed straight to party with our own kind from there.
It takes a fuck ton of liquor for us to get a buzz on, let alone faded,
which is exactly what I’m trying to do after the week I’ve had. Shit…after
the month I’ve had.
My brothers and I spent most of summer at our family’s estate up north
before we had to report back for practice. Why we bother with pre-season
preparations, I don’t know.
We’re superior to the Giftless in every way, but I guess that’s the whole
point. We’re forced to live at this fucking school for four years, so of course
they dumb down our sport for the useless sake of the humans surrounding
us. We’re not allowed to use our gifts in any way.
Reason number one-fucking-hundred forcing the graduated gifted to
attend Rathe U is bullshit.
 No motherfucker should be allowed to tell us when we can and can’t
use the abilities we were born with, yet here we are, playing by their rules
just so we can have some sort of time on the ice while we’re stuck here.
Creed goes along with it, ever the fucking diplomat when others are
looking, but Sinner feels the same way as me when it comes to rules and
regulations—he fucking hates and ignores them.
Our youngest brother, Legend, feels the same , but he’ll bend when he
feels it’s right.
Sin and me? Ask us when it’s “right” not to stand superior to everyone
else, and we’ll tell you never. Not fucking ever.
To think differently is to spit on our kind and pretend you did so to
polish it, when really, it’s about control. We’re not meant to be controlled.
It’s unnatural.
Of course, not everyone agrees, but the fuck do I care?
Sin and I get up to what some would call shady shit, and they might not
be wrong if they’re thinking with the humanity we all possess. So while we
think they’re fucking fools, we’re not about to waste our time forcing them
to see it. We leave that to our old man until the crown is passed down and
we’re forced to worry about that shit. And by we, I mean Creed.
Anyway, we’ve been back at Rathe U for a little over six weeks now,
and since the day we portaled back into Daragan, this poor excuse of a
town, my nerves have been shot. Last year was no more than the bullshit I
expected it to be, not to mention a total waste of our time, but there’s
something about this semester that’s got me on edge, and I don’t fucking
like it. It’s got nothing to do with the trials we’ll be forced to face soon; I
know where I belong when it comes to Light and Dark magic.
Sin says we need to play a little harder, but we’ve tried that, and still
I’m in a constant state of I wanna rip your fucking head off.
And if the pretty boy of Rathe U, Zeke Mortar, doesn’t stop looking my
way, I’m going to tear his teeth from his skull, including the ones that
haven’t shown themselves yet, and stab him in the eyes with them.
Gotta say, it’s a compelling way to force our coaches to stop pretending
Zeke’s half as good as Legend and making them split time on the ice. That
shit would never fly in Rathe, but with the human world comes human
politics and a twisted type of daddy ball is the shit they’re playing here.
Or mommy ball, since the coaches do it all to please the headmaster of
Rathe U.
Pathetic.
“Boy wants his pretty white hair turned to ash, don’t he?” My boy
Silver walks up.
I scoff, loudly saying, “I’m starting to think he wants my cock.”
Zeke looks off, bringing his bottle to his lips and I smirk at Silver.
He shakes his head with a grin, steps between our small circle, and
plops down next to Creed. He elbows him lightly in the ribs.
“Easy win for us tonight, eh, captain?”
“When isn’t it?” He finishes off his fourth cup, still stone-cold sober
and growing more irritable by the second. “Even without using our gifts,
the competition is weak. No stamina.” His dark-blue eyes flick up to mine,
narrowing. “You pick one yet?”
“Sin’s on the prowl tonight. All I gotta do is wait for him to bring one
back.” I smirk, kicking my leg out.
“Well, find him,” he snaps, his own need to get laid clouding that genius
brain of his. “Tell him to stop being fucking picky. I’m ready to get to the
Rathe U party.”
I stare at my oldest brother for a minute. For no other reason than the
pleasure that licks across my skin like a shot of toxic adrenaline when I
refuse to follow an order. It’s a sick satisfaction I get, one our parents have
very vocally attested I do, but Creed and I both know he isn’t giving me a
fight right now. He just wants us to hurry the fuck up and steal some chick’s
mind so we can get to the real fun of the night.
 Finally, my brother’s low chuckle fills the air and he looks off. “Dick.”
The corner of my mouth hooks higher and I pull out my phone to call
Sin, but then the dozens of voices fade away, the music cuts out, and pure
silence fills my ears as my senses double down. Like a wave, they burst out
of me, strong and vast, an invisible force to the Giftless and Gifted alike.
Sharp pricks start at the base of my spine and snake their way up, the
tendons in my neck stretching, and my head snaps left. My gift claws at my
insides, fighting its way to the surface, but I hold it in, gaze laser-focused
on the side gate of the yard where the house party is taking place.
A whirl of white whips through it, flying up into the air as the girl it
belongs to spins on her heels, walking backward without bothering to look
where she’s going.
There could be a fucking cliff she’s about to throw herself right over
and she wouldn’t know it until she was sailing through the air.
My lip curls, anger drawing heat to my skin.
Careless fucking Giftless.
She takes a few more steps, her profile now in full view, and my eyes
narrow with recognition. It’s the girl from the arena.
What a tiny little thing you are…kind of like a doll, cute to look at but
won’t bend. I wouldn’t be above trying, though. No doubt, I’ve got a full
foot and then some on her. She’s maybe five-foot, max. Her blonde hair is
so platinum in color it’s nearly translucent. So much so, it wouldn’t even
rival the pale shade of my fist when wrapped around it.
She pivots, her little half-skirt pushing higher and revealing more silky
pale skin. Her features tighten then, and she freezes in place. Her eyes dart
around the space, searching, seeking out something. Mine do the same.
I log every inch of the space, wondering what the hell she’s looking for,
but then the gate flings open again, and in stumbles the dude she was with
at the game.
 The sound of his slurs snaps her out of her frozen state, and she darts off
into the crowd. A shadow stirs inside my gut as a low growl leaves my
mouth.
“If our parents weren’t coming into town next week, I would,” Legend,
our youngest brother, says, and my attention snaps his way.
“Wait, what?”
He nods.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me? Does Sin know?”
“I was supposed to tell you guys when we got back. I only found out
before the game.”
“That seems random.” Silver frowns, looking at me. “They were just
here for opening ceremonies. Didn’t think we’d see them on campus again
anytime soon.”
“Exactly,” I snap, eyes narrowed at Legend. “You should have said
something earlier.”
“And ruined the entire night?” He grins, shaking his head. “I know
better than that.” Fucking Legend. The traits of every baby brother, only
mine has teeth.
“If they’re coming, there’s a reason for it,” Creed cuts in, but I can’t
think more into what they’re saying right now. Our parents coming isn’t just
a red flag, it’s a whole fucking arena painted red. This isn’t good. We all
know it.
A couple girls choose this moment to walk between us, as if we weren’t
in the middle of a private fucking conversation.
Some redheaded chick steps right up to Creed, playing with the long
straw between her lips. “You play for Rathe, right?” She smiles at him. The
word sounds weird on the tongue of a mundane human.
I push against her back until she turns and looks up at me. Cutting a
quick glance around the space, I lean closer. “You don’t want to be here,” I
whisper.
 Her pupils dilate, a small frown building along her brows. “I don’t…
think I want to be here.”
“You should go.”
“I’m going to—to go,” she stutters, shrinking into herself as her features
pull tight. Gripping her shoulders, I spin her around, and slowly, she walks
off.
I focus back on Creed.
He watches the girl walk off, shaking his head at me. “You shouldn’t do
that here.”
“Fuck off, like you don’t sit around doing worse. Why do you seem
unfazed hearing Mom and Dad are coming next week? What do you
know?”
“I don’t know shit. Why, what’d you do?” He raises a dark brow.
I flip him off and he chuckles.
Legend nudges my arm with his when I lower back into the chair.
“Don’t stress on it,” he says. “If there’s something we need to worry about,
they’ll tell us. They never leave us in the dark.”
That’s my youngest brother for you, always the optimist.
The conversation ends and we’re done here.
Time to call Sin back. If he didn’t pick a girl for the night by now, I’ll
be doing the picking.
I pull his number up, but before I can hit send, my head is yanked left.
The white-haired girl is there, my brother’s shirt wrapped in her fist, and
then her chest hits his.
My spine stiffens, eyes narrowing as her lips crush his.
Sinner responds instantly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her
in tight as he takes control of her mouth.
Heat washes over me from head to fucking toe.
It’s burning.
 Fucking smoldering, and if I were gifted with the touch of fire, there’s
no doubt in my mind flames would burst from my fingertips.
Need and something foreign prick along my skin, and my cock jumps in
my jeans. I don’t realize I’m standing until Creed smacks my arm.
“Looks like Sin found that toy,” he says, and everyone rises with his
words.
I ignore them, my muscles flexing, tongue running along my lower lip
as I stare at the pair. At the girl.
Yes. Her.
She’s the one for tonight. Mine.
For tonight.
Sin starts to back her up, leading her toward the fence, and I take a
single step forward.
Cool liquid splashes over my arm, soaking through my hoodie, and I
growl, whipping around to glare at the stupid fuck who spilled it on me.
“Watch your-fucking-self,” I snap.
The Giftless prick lifts his hands, the now empty cup still in one.
“Whoa, bro, you bumped into me.”
I dart toward him, my blood thrashing within my body, adrenaline
peaked as a swift shadow of anger falls over me.
My hand flies out before I realize it, eyes trained on the weak fucker’s
throat, and I know I’m about to put him out, but suddenly Creed is between
us, his fingers tight around my wrist as his eyes lock with mine.
My muscles in my neck stretch, my limbs shaking, but then I blink.
Creed’s grip eases, his chin lowering as he studies me. “What the fuck is
with you tonight?”
I yank from his hold, shrugging. “I’m good. Grab the girl and go—”
My words cut off when I look back, Sinner headed this way with a
smirk, the girl nowhere to be found.
He reaches us, opening his mouth to speak.
 “Where is she?”
Sin narrows. “Who?”
“The girl whose face you were eating.”
“Oh, her.” He grins, popping a single shoulder. “Running from some
dude.”
My frown builds, but he smacks me on the shoulder. “It’s all good,
brother. I got us one.”
As if on cue, a girl in a short blue dress slides up wearing a shy smile. I
can smell her desperation from here. Her hair is as brown as her eyes.
She’s too tall. Too basic.
But she’ll do.
Swallowing my annoyance, I step in front of her, pressing my knuckles
beneath her chin and tipping her eyes up to mine. Her pupils dilate as I say,
“You took shrooms tonight. The trip is going to be hard, but you’ll only do
what you want to do.”
Slowly, she nods, taking Sin’s hand when he offers it to her, and then
we’re cutting out on this poor excuse of a party, headed back toward Rathe
U for a real one.
 Three

K night

I ’ .I ’
it’s because the white-haired Giftless burned through my mind like a
fucking fiery tornado, turning everything I thought I wanted to ash, or
because everything in this world is tasteless. Fucking dull. It leaves me
bored. The Giftless parties are always shit. Chasing what we play with on a
daily basis by consuming alcohol until we eventually give up.
I mean, it’s cute. Until it’s boring.
“Where are we going?” the girl asks, bouncing on top of my lap. I hold
her still by squeezing her sharp hips, shifting her weight to Sin. “Is this
another party?” Fuck, I can’t be bothered with her. Every time she touches
me, I want to cut her hands off. I mean, I could…
“Yeah, babe…” Sin plays with her, dragging his teeth over her shoulder
blade. He flashes me a wicked smirk, one that I know says thanks for the
snack. “I guess you could call it a party.”
Creed pulls the G-Wagon up to the curb. The quiet suburban street is
just like any other here. Mansions side-by-side, television lights flickering
through the windows, a woman walking her little dog across the street, and
a man dressed in a suit, only just arriving home in his Tesla, straightening
his tie as he makes his way up to his front door. I wonder if he’s taken the
time to check if there’s lipstick still smudged on his cock before he got
home. Whatever. I never did understand the Giftless and their pointless
effort to keep their partner from fucking anyone else. Where I come from,
we fuck who we want, when we want, and then we pass her on to the next
looking to play. No harm, no foul, not enough fucks to give. That one pussy
or one cock limitation shit? That’s saved for when you find your mate, only
then are the goods not to be handed out to any-fucking-one else. The way
our kind tells it, you don’t mind when that happens.
Pretty sure I’m gonna fucking mind.
“Knight!” someone calls out from across the road, and I slam the door
closed, narrowing my eyes at the shadow on the field.
“Oh my god…this doesn’t look like a fun time at all…” the little toy
murmurs from beside me, her lower lip drooping. She has a point. To the
mundane eye, it looks about as simple as its neighbor. Twin pillars, a
picturesque swing on the porch, and a garden so fresh it almost looks like it
came straight out of a Home & Garden magazine.
Her little hand grabs onto my arm. I don’t bother to shake her off,
desperate to get the fuck inside. As we step across the transparent threshold,
the barrier splits open with a zap of electricity as trestles of purple, pink,
and blue ignite through the air. The girl’s grip around my arm loosens as she
steps back slightly.
“Will she be a runner?” I turn toward Sin, smirking at him.
“I don’t know…” Legend circles her like a lion would a lamb. “Kind of
hope she is .”
“She’s not!” Her brown eyes come to mine. “Whatever—this is. Did
you guys drug me?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, because we would waste a good vile of Fae dust
on you.” My hand finds her chin as I hold her stare. “The shrooms.”
 She gives a small nod, remembering.
The lawn’s littered with people, all from school. Alexander Oliver has a
girl on her knees in front of him, her little hand wrapped around his cock as
her head bounces back and forth. Some old school D12 song plays loudly
through the speakers as I jog up the steps to the front door. People separate
for us as we move through the masses. If they aren’t trying so desperately to
be our friend, they are trying to fuck our regulars.
I push through the door, shoving away the two girls who were making
out on the other side. Fog swirls around our feet and the ambient lighting
offers just enough to show you what’s happening. A complete contrast to
what’s going on outside. As soon as you step inside, it’s like you’ve walked
into an intimate club. Manipulated by magic, there are no separate areas. No
kitchen, lounge, or bedrooms. Just one big ass room. The ceiling sparkles
with rows of lights, and in every corner, there are oversized, round sofas
tucked away. A loud crash sounds at the back, and two shifters stumble
through, one in Lycan form and the other in human. Harrison Leviant
smirks up at the Lycan, who I’m pretty sure is Justin Evok, since he’s the
only one who cheats any time there’s a fight by shifting.
“Come on, you big hairy fuck!” Harrison shakes his long blond curls
around the place. “Dyin’ to kick your ass again!”
“Damn our Elders and their need to protect our own kind from us…”
Legend comes up beside me, crossing his arms. “Could have been fun
persuading these dumb fucks to do whatever we want.” I brush off my little
brother’s reason to cause chaos, heading to the other side of the room where
bottles of alcohol, specially made by our own distilleries to allow for double
the strength, and Fae dust line the counter. If any of the Giftless we drag in
here were to come looking for a party favor, they won’t spot our stash, all of
it only visible to the keen eye.
We don’t want them whining and complaining the whole time, though,
so we do stock some weak, standard options in the fridge for our toys to sip
on.
The music is loud and rowdy as I swipe the dollar bill that’s rolled up
and shove it up my nostril.
Why the fuck am I so bothered?
I squeeze my eyes closed to shut out the raw memories. The way my
lips turned to fire as soon as theirs touched. The way heat rushed through
my body when her hand came to the back of his neck. I felt it. I felt it all. It
was as though her touch burned me without even so much as meeting my
skin.
A hand slides beneath the waistband of my jeans and my eyes fly open
as I slam my glass of bourbon onto the counter, clearing my nostril.
“Hey,” her familiar voice purrs from behind as she kisses a trail up the
side of my arm. Her fingers inch farther beneath my jeans, and every
second they’re on me, I want to tear them off. What the fuck is wrong with
me?
I lean down until our eyes collide. “Hey.”
Alexandra Kova has been around my dick more times than she hasn’t
since we were old enough to want sex. When she’s not with me, she’s with
Sin. And when she’s not with Sin? I don’t give a fuck where she is. There
are many things that separate the Gifted and the Giftless, and this is one of
them. We don’t waste our time being faithful to every person we’re fucking.
We don’t even do the whole girlfriend or boyfriend thing, not in the way
others understand anyway. Do many of us have a preferred person to call on
for occasions that require a body at our side? Sure, but that’s pretty much
where those paltry titles die.
We owe no one our loyalty until we meet our mate, and for me? I wanna
stay way the fuck away from that. I don’t need a weakness in my life, and
people can talk that shit up as much as they want, but a mate is a fucking
liability. A straight up weakness. It’s a target for every enemy you have, and
thanks to mine and my brothers’ bloodline, we’ve got a lot of those.
 Alex’s blonde lashes fan out over her puffy cheeks. She’s cute enough.
With a heart-shaped face, green eyes, and an ass to grab on to, she’s perfect
for keeping my dick warm. “Shall we play?”
I find Sin instantly, and I’m not at all surprised that he’s already
watching our exchange from behind his glass of vodka. He wants it more
than I do. I can see the hunger in his eyes, forever there and never
quenched, but I’ve never felt it the way I had tonight. Like I was the one
standing before the white-haired wonder.
I look back down at Alex. “Give us a good enough show, and yeah,
maybe. But Sin brought a friend back.”
She shrugs, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “The more the better,
remember? I play to fuck, lover. Nothing more, and nothing less.”
I stand straight. “Well, go on then…go show us why you’re worth it.”
When we were ten years old, Alex made it her mission to become a
Master of Magic. She’s an overachiever at heart.
She slowly plucks away her clothes, until she’s standing in her bra and
underwear, closing the distance between her and Sin. The music has shifted
to a song by The Weeknd and I watch eagerly as her hips ride the beat. This
will pull me out of my shit mood. It has to. It always has. I’m not just
talking about Alex, I’m talking about sex. It’s the greatest outlet for our
kind, and we all harness it often. Stimulation does something to our blood,
and it’s a sensation we’re wired to chase.
I shoot back the rest of my bourbon, and it’s not until the alcohol burns
down my throat that I realize I don’t give a fuck about whatever she’s
doing, and if I grind my teeth anymore, I am going to have none left. Anger
simmers beneath my skin like a volcano waiting to erupt.
I need to get the fuck out of here. The stench of magic is thick in the air,
the music a mere backdrop to the slight moaning in the background. Alex
falls backward slightly, until air separates her body from the ground. She
pinches her nipples, arching her back before her other hand slowly dips
beneath her underwear. The show is for Sin and me, but she’s putting it on
for everyone else, too. She loves the attention more than she loves anything
else, and fucking not just one, but two royals? Well…it gets her whoever
and whatever she wants. Being a Power Bank, someone whose strongest
source of power comes from sucking it out of others’ energy sources,
mostly from the Giftless being their energy, is particularly untapped
compared to our kind. So yeah, she’s a hell of a performer.
Tonight, I’m not interested.
I leave the way I came through. People move around me, afraid if they
get too close I might snap. I might. Rage ripples through my veins the more
I think about tonight, but the frustration of not knowing where it’s coming
from gets to me more.
Tossing the glass onto the balcony, I squeeze the wooden railing. I need
to fuck or kill something. Maybe Silver is right. I’m getting worse with
every passing day of this semester. Or maybe the full fucking moon has a
direct line for all of my issues and it’s deciding to force me into some type
of shadow work.
I feel the coolness of the wind run its fingers through my hair and I
breathe out a deep sigh, my muscles relaxing instantly. What the fuck?
Or maybe you just needed to touch grass, Knight. Fuck.
“I fucking hate walking, but you know that, you just never cared about
what I hate. Did I say that, hmmm…wait—” The feminine voice penetrates
my eardrums, and while I’ve only heard it once before, I recognize it
instantly. It stabs at parts of me I can’t name, slamming into my mind like it
fucking belongs there. Like it was coming home. “—this is stupid. Why
didn’t you just go back to your dorm? Why are you making this so
difficult?”
“I’m not!” A man’s voice now.
And then I see them. The girl from tonight, the one Sinner kissed,
stumbling down the street with some fucking dude. The hoodie covering his
head means I can’t tell from this angle if it’s the same one she was arguing
with tonight. Before I can think any more into it, the rage is back, burning
away all logical thinking.
There’s no way she can see us. The magic surrounding this house is the
very same that covers our side of Daragan—the side the Giftless don’t see.
Just like now, they don’t know we exist. And we prefer it that way.
I hover back, my eyes shifting with her movements as they slowly reach
the house. He says something stupid, and she shoves him away. It isn’t
playful , it’s sure as fuck giving a she wants to run vibe, but he hooks his
arm around her little body, and the wooden rail I didn’t realize I was
gripping snaps in the palm of my hand. I can’t take my fucking eyes off her.
Like a hungry wolf, the anger only fuels my need for violence, the
overwhelming desire to know what this Giftless girl’s flesh feels like in the
palm of my hand.
Her body slowly turns to get away from whomever she’s with, when
suddenly she stops, her head snapping in this direction until her line-of-
sight locks with mine.
Instantly, my muscles ripple, clenching and flexing and stretching.
Fucking straining.
She can’t see me.
There’s no fucking way.
 Four

L ondon

“B …” T
pig, only he lacks the cuteness a piglet does. “Please, let’s just go! I thought
there was a party down here, but clearly I was wrong.”
“What?” I don’t bother to turn to face him because I’m stuck in place
staring at what’s happening in front of me. People are sprawled out over the
grass in the front lawn, smoking and drinking, and I’m pretty sure there’s a
fight happening directly out front, judging by the blood splatter that’s flying
up in the air. The home is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. I mean, sure, it
has the overall look of the burbs, but there are smaller details that seem…
odd.
Like for one… Is it fucking floating?
I blink and blink again.
Okay, I must have drunk a fuck ton more than I remember because it is
definitely floating.
Right?
 “What the hell,” Trevor’s mumbling dies off in the background, like I
wish he would, and just as I squint to get a better look, my eyes are called to
the patio, instantly locking on a familiar pair that’s already staring back at
me.
I feel it in my chest before anywhere else. My heart drops to my gut,
creating a hollow sensation as I try to inhale beyond it, fighting for a deeper
breath my lungs deny. It’s as if the air I’m offering isn’t what they’re after,
and the wind knows it, whirling at my back, almost like it’s urging me
forward. Closer.
Man, how fucked up am I?
With each ticking second that passes, I can feel him reaching across the
road and squeezing tightly around my throat. His eyes, they’re piercing.
Even from here I can feel them. My mouth runs dry when he tilts his head ,
and that dark hair of his falls forward slightly, the messy strands begging
me to run my fingers through it.
I recognized him instantly. It would be pretty sad if I didn’t,
considering my little stunt at the Daragan State party earlier, even if
Operation Run My Irritating Ex Who is Clearly in Denial of the ‘Ex’ Part
Away was a total failure. That and the solid eye-fuck from across the arena
prior to that.
From what I overheard a group of girls saying, they’re regulars at our
school’s parties. I would have known this, had I not been new here.
Sometimes I wonder what my uncle is thinking, allowing me to go to
college ten hours away, but I never questioned him. It took him a long time
to loosen the leash he held on to me. I wasn’t going to start questioning it
now, and besides, I don’t miss home. How could I when my best friend is
here?
“Lon!” Ugh. Like a bucket of ice water, Trevor’s voice knocks me out
of my trance.
 “Shut up, Trevor.” My feet stay cemented to the ground. I want to get
closer to what’s happening, but maybe—maybe I’m just utterly fucked up.
“And don’t call me baby.”
The dark-haired stranger’s tongue slips out, dampening his bottom lip,
and I watch in slow motion as a girl’s hands come to his chest from behind.
Without breaking eye contact with me, he directs her to the front, bringing
his mouth to hers. I recognize her from school. Elizabeth something? I can’t
remember her last name.
What the fuck is she doing in there? Oh no, I’m definitely drunk.
There’s no way she’s at a party. Always desperate for attention, she could
barely garner the interest of our bottom dollar guys.
He doesn’t look like the type who enjoys the attention-seeking kind.
But I guess looks are as deceiving as they say, since he initiated the kiss.
His mouth moves against hers, his hands now sliding down her bare back
and over the swell of her ass. He squeezes her ass cheeks tightly as he lifts
her from the ground as if she weighs nothing, and her legs wrap around his
waist like a fucking Venus flytrap. He curls her hair around his fist and
slowly lowers her to her knees in front of him.
Acid burns my tongue, a lump forming in my throat as time seems to
slow down, and I watch, transfixed, in a greedy sort of torture. The rest of
the party falls away and all I see is him and her, as she works on the zipper
to his jeans. Her bright red hair bounces off the streetlight and I feel my
stomach coil into a hot wire when his cock lands in the palm of her hand.
She peers up at him innocently from below before her lips wrap around his
girth.
My eyes fly back to his, and when I see them already on mine, a horde
of rogue crows take flight in my gut as their talons try to scratch their way
out. My toes curl when I feel a familiar kind of warmth pool between my
thighs, my palms sweating—
“Lon!”
 Everything shuts off and the party is gone. The house is just like every
other house on this street. My mouth hangs open and a whirl of confusion
sweeps me off my feet. “Get in the car!”
I spin around to see Ben in the passenger side of a Jeep, with Trevor
already in the back. “What? How did you know where I was?”
“Huh?” Ben glares at me like I’ve ruined his whole night.
I probably have, but in five seconds he won’t be mad. He’s my ride or
die like that. Plus, if I called anyone else, he would chew me out for days.
It’s one of his ‘safety’ rules for me. When in need, rely solely on the man I
trust. That’s him. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s immune to getting pissy
when my needy ass becomes the biggest cockblock known to man. A guy
running to rescue a girl? He must be fucking her!
Ugh. Cue the eye roll.
“What the fuck do you mean, how did I know?” Ben frowns. “You
texted me to come get you because…” His eyes fly over his shoulder.
“Right.” I did. That part I remember. I take another step closer to the car
and the world tilts to the side. My stomach hurls and my hand flies to my
mouth to stop the vomit from reaching up my throat. “I think I am really
fucked up. Ben, I hate you and whatever you gave me tonight.” I don’t
bother wasting time sliding into the back seat. Letty’s eyes meet mine in the
rearview mirror. I already know what’s coming and the lecture she’s going
to give us all the next morning.
Thankfully, Trevor interrupts when he starts off in the background
again. I try to block him out best I can, but when his hand finds my upper
thigh, I lean forward and hit the radio, glaring at Ben.
My upstanding best friend is far too good a man to leave a drunk dude,
even if it is Trevor, on the side of the road alone at two in the morning.
Would he beat his ass and throw him into a pond of piranhas if he hurt me
for real? Definitely. Abandon him for simply getting on my nerves when I
made the conscious choice to make the walk with the man? Not so much.
 I could cry. If I cried, Ben would drag Trevor out by his balls, but that
would be a whole thing, so I simply sharpen my glare for good measure and
sit back.
And so it begins. Trevor putting his hand on my thigh, me shoving it
off, rinse and repeat. I hate myself for dating him for so long and vow to
never allow myself to be around him alone again.
I met him at the very beginning of summer, literally four days after I
moved here, and I’ve been annoyed by him nearly just as long.
Letty pulls the car up to the entrance to our dorm, which sits on the edge
of campus.
“Will you be okay?” I ask Letty, after sliding out of the back seat.
She looks up at me from behind her slightly rolled-down window. “I’ll
be fine. I’ll drop him off now and text you guys when I’m home.”
Ben doesn’t move from the passenger seat. “Nah, I’ll go with her and
bring some food back.”
I smile at my best friend. He makes it hard hating him when he does
cute things like making sure one of our exes doesn’t murder us. “I’ll be
asleep.” Making my way to our front door, I throw up deuces. “Night!”
Tossing my house keys into the small fruit bowl near the entrance, I
kick off my shoes and bypass the kitchen, heading straight for the stairs and
to my bedroom. Ben and I decided to room together the second we knew
coed dorms existed. There are not many people I allow into my space, but
Ben kind of forced his way into it and told me to go fuck myself. I love him
for that.
I kick my bedroom door closed, skipping the shower or even changing,
and belly flop onto the bed. I need sleep. I need something to get his face
out of my head.

The sky is the villain to every story I’ve ever read. The wind is cold as it
whisks over my skin and uncontrollable shivers break out over me.
 Where the fuck am I?
I stare down at my feet, seeing them soiled with mud and dirt. I bring
my hands up to my face to see grime stuck between the cracks of my nails.
Panic grips me around my throat and I stumble backward, falling with a
thud on my ass as gravel bites into the soft flesh of my palms.
I wince. Seriously, where the fuck am I? That’s when I feel it.
The heat rises within the coolness of the wind and fire erupts through
the sky, burning the stars to a crisp. Fog starts to blanket my legs and I
quickly push myself back to my feet, when a large figure materializes in
front of me. A bridge with massive metal carvings and a pathway made of
gold. The fog thickens and the sky rumbles like a warning, just enough to
feel the bite of its rage down my spine.
I take another step, desperate to see the bridge. How could something
so light and crisp exist among such darkness and gloom? I want to reach
out and touch it. Stabbing pain shoots through the soles of my feet as
whatever it is that covers the ground crunches. I don’t care. I want the
bridge. I need the bridge. Happiness fills my insides as I get closer, but I
fall to the ground with my hands out. So close. So close.
My palm slaps the cool gold and my brain erupts with a horrifying
scream so intense my ears bleed.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Pain rips through me as I fly backward, a hooded figure lifting me from
the ground and tossing me to the side. I scream again, this time it tears my
vocal cords apart as I fall…and fall…
 Five

L ondon

I’ .A I ,I
—loooottt. So much so that Ben has had to shower me, tits in his face, legs
in the air, and then stay up all night to make sure I didn’t die. Around that
time was when I realized that he probably was a great friend and I had
nothing to worry about. I’ve known him all of my life, and people try to say
he has a crush on me, including Trevor, and even though I know deep in my
bones he doesn’t, those nights really drove it home for me that this man,
after having my bits in places where they shouldn’t be with your best friend,
will not ever like me that way.
Sometimes I wonder if he wishes I was more modest, but since he has
seen me naked, I find wearing clothes when I don’t have to as an
unnecessary evil. I just can’t get behind it, especially when I know he’ll
love me either way.
Not that last night resulted in a drunken peep show, but I’m pretty damn
sure I was one Solo cup away from living out some stripper fantasies.
Again.
 Now here I am, forced to function when the light feels like it has a
personal vendetta against me.
It doesn’t help that I don’t care much for school. Ben would say that it
has to do with the fact that I can’t make up my mind on what I want to
major in, but I’m not so sure. I mean, I know that is a big part, sure, but I
can’t help but feel like everything is pointless. Like in five years from now,
I won’t be using anything I’ve studied.
“So how is your head?” Ben asks, tossing a french fry at my lap from
across the table. It’s only mid-day and I’m ready to curl back under my bed
covers for the week. My head feels like a balloon and it won’t stop
throbbing, and I’m pretty sure the muscles in my legs have seized up . The
previous night is a blur. I remember the game. I remember dropping a
Molly in the bathroom after Trevor and I had a massive fight.
“That guy you were making out with was hot!” Letty sucks ketchup off
her finger. She can’t hide the smirk if she tried, which she doesn’t.
And I remember him.
“He was…” My tongue glides over my teeth when I think about how his
felt inside my mouth. With an impulsive decision to piss off Trevor, I
grabbed the poor dude for a quick tongue fuck. He was—blue eyes flash in
front of me, a single touch against my cheek, the way his mouth curved up
in a smirk—Jesus. “Yes. Very hot.”
Ben chuckles at me from across the table. I know that later on, it’s going
to call for one thousand questions like always. For a straight guy, he sure as
fuck is always interested in the dick I’m sucking. “You and I both know that
you should have just walked away from Trevor. You can’t fix that man.”
Guilt wriggles its ugly claws inside of me and he knows he’s hit a nerve.
It’s not that I try, or even want, to fix Trevor. It’s that I still feel like I owe
him. Ben calls it a trauma bond. I hate the word bond and don’t think
Trevor deserves it.
 I have no fucking idea why I feel that way. It’s not like I’m the one who
cheated, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was purely
with him out of boredom and my healthy, sadly insatiable appetite for solid
playtime.
Trevor , unfortunately, wasn’t what I would call a prime dick option; in
fact, I was left to the good graces of my trusting fingers more often than
not, but he was fun when he wasn’t a complete fucking annoyance, and he
was always down for a quickie in the hidden corners of campus.
Huh, maybe that’s why I can’t get rid of the fucker. He’s pussy-
whipped, and when a man gets to that point? It takes some serious measures
to cut the cord.
I pout, feeling bad for myself and the fact that my sexual needs match
that of a man. We really need to cut the stigma somewhere, because fuck all
that. Girls need this shit just as much.
I mean…right?
Bet Mr. I Like to Stare in the Eyes of One While Getting my Dick
Sucked by Another would agree.
Wait. That was the Molly talking.
“What’s with the sour face, baby girl?”
Shaking my head, I rub circles along my temple before looking to Ben,
and then the clock that glares at me from above him.
A laugh pushes past his lips and he drags himself to his feet, offering
me a hand, so I let him haul my ass up with a very obnoxious whine. “But,
Daddy, do I have to?” I stick my bottom lip out.
Ben simply rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around my shoulder and
lifting the tray of half-eaten food with the other hand. “Yes, you have to
attend the classes that you’re required to pass in order to keep your
scholarship and keep being my favorite roommate ever.” Letty ignores us
both as she rushes off to her next class.
 He steers us toward the garbage and then out the double doors of the
cafeteria, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head as he releases me.
“Is this the part where you leave me, and I wait until you’re gone before
sneaking back to the dorm and sleeping the rest of the month away?”
He lifts a brow at me, and I flick my gaze to the sky, instantly
regretting it as the pounding in my head comes back with a vengeance.
“Did you take more Ibuprofen like I told you to?” he asks, adjusting his
backpack on his shoulders.
“I did.” I offer him a small smile, moving in for a hug. “Thank you for
taking care of me all the time.”
“Someone’s got to,” he teases, squeezing me back briefly before
stepping away. The two of us split, heading in opposite directions to finish
out our day.
With a deep sigh, I make my way toward the lecture halls for some
stupid history class I’m destined to fail, but I do my best to give my all. E
ven if my “all” is a sad C minus, for the sole reason I can’t be separated
from my best friend again.
All my life, it was only my uncle Marcus and me…and Ben. I can’t
blame Unc for allowing me here when I know damn well I only came for
Ben.
I’ve never really been good at making friends. I’ve never really cared to
try, to be honest. I’m more of a lone rider, happy to get lost in my
imagination for hours on end, but with Ben our friendship is effortless. He’s
my soulmate. The kind that I know would never run out on me.
The day he and his grandmother moved in across the street was, and
continues to be, the best thing that ever happened to me. My uncle Marcus
is great, kind, and attentive and the perfect father figure from what I
know. He’s stern when he needs to be and does his best to understand the
different stages of teenage rebellion, but being the only person running the
household is taxing and time-consuming, so it left me alone a lot. I love him
for it, appreciate everything he does for me, but it didn’t exactly help me in
the social department to spend so much time alone at such a young age—
the reason why I had the imagination of R. L. Stine when I was little, if you
ask the mandated therapist my elementary school “recommended” I see
after one too many complaints from the teacher that I was too intrigued with
the emotions people feel and why they feel them…how to draw certain ones
out of them.
It became fascinating to me. A simple hobby of people-watching
quickly turned into something else. I swear, there were times where I could
feel what some were feeling. Obviously, that’s atrocious, but there were
times…. It was sort of the same for Ben, sans the this child is fucked up
notion, being raised by his grandmother, a woman who busted her ass her
entire life and raised her children, thrust back into the working world so late
in life to do it all over again with the grandchild her daughter didn’t want
but had.
He was alone, I was alone, and then suddenly we had each other, and
that’s how it stayed over the years. At one point, I even lived with him and
Grandma Betsy when my uncle Marcus was transferred for work, but it
didn’t take him long to quit that job and find another because, in all the
ways that mattered, I was his daughter. Splitting us apart was the last thing
he wanted.
I knew it would be hard for him when I left for college. He was pretty
excited when I was forced to stay back for my first year when the only
place I could get into was a junior college because my grades were as shit
as my attendance.
That’s probably where Ben and I differ the most. He has always been all
about school and sports and overachieving academia. He knew at a young
age he wanted more in life; he wanted the chance to give his grandma a
more comfortable life after seeing how hard she worked and was forced to
have the simplest things and sometimes not even those.
 Originally, he was supposed to go to junior college with me, stay home
and near his grandma, but then he got a call from the coaches here, and next
thing you know he was accepted into Daragan State with a full ride.
I cried in happiness and absolute dread because I knew there was no
way he could pass that up, not without a savings or penny to his name to
help pay for college courses, even at a junior college. He would have had to
work endlessly just to cover a couple classes each semester, not to mention
play hockey in an old, rundown arena that gets rented out for kids’ birthday
parties more often than not.
For a moment, as short-lived as it was, he considered turning it down,
but then when Grandma Betsy passed in her sleep not long after our high
school graduation, I knew. I was about to lose my best friend to a school
halfway across the country.
I’d never worked so hard in school in my life, but I knew I had to get to
where he was because I couldn’t do this tiresome, mundane existence
without him.
I’m not entirely emo, I’m just uninterested in the reality of day-to-day
bullshit, and I may have a codependent bond with my best friend.
My Molly trips, when the outside world flips on its axis and my
imagination takes over, make me believe I can see and hear and touch and
feel things that don’t exist. It’s like a barrier in my brain breaks when I’m
impaired, and suddenly I feel like I’m in my element. Like I’m most “me.”
Fuck me, I’m a toxic train wreck. Why hasn’t this shit worn off yet?
Dropping my chin into my palm, I stare blankly at the professor at the
front of the room as he starts talking some bullshit I can’t be bothered to
tune in to.
I’m positive the day is about to drag on as boring and uneventful as
every other, but then the double doors open at the front of the room and in
walks a girl with fiery red hair.
 I sit up in my chair, eyes narrowing on the freckle-faced, willowy chick
with legs for days. Something sparks in my chest as her lips curve into a
small smile, and as if they have a mind of their own, my eyes track her
every step with rapt interest.
Suddenly, I want to know what she smells like, feels like. What she
tastes like.
The last thought shakes me out of my stupor, but I’m unable to remove
the frown from my forehead, and then as if the universe is testing my brand
of crazy, the redhead sits in the desk directly beside me.
Not sure how long I stare at her, but suddenly her head snaps toward
mine, and she raises a perfectly shaped brow. “Can I help you?”
Now that I get a closer look, I can see the dark circles beneath her eyes
from lack of sleep.
Did he keep her up all night?
Fuck her right there on the porch after I left? Does he taste as good as
he looks?
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
That was a trip. I was trippin’.
I conjured up that entire scene in my head, because of the events of
earlier that night.
But why would this chick, whom I have never actually spoken a word
to, be a player in my twisted little fantasy rather than it be me on my knees
before the drop-dead gorgeous guy?
“Are you seriously just going to stare at me?” she whines, self-
consciously running her hands down her hair. It does nothing to hide the
fact that she’s at least two days strong on dry shampoo.
“Did you have fun at the Rathe U party last night?” I hear myself ask
before I give myself permission to do so and I kind of want to stop
myself, especially when she looks at me like I’m crazy.
“What are you talking about? Do I even know you?”
“No.” I frown, facing forward. “You don’t.”
So there it is.
Molly for the win…
 Six

K night

M
rubber, and then my feet are off the floor as I’m levitated, my back bowing
as I’m hit with a power surge so strong, my every limb screams in pain, the
move simulating the feeling of thousands of tiny needles penetrating my
skin all at once. I grit my teeth, calling on my own gift, my hands shaking
from pure concentration as I work to free it from his control.
The asshole stands twenty yards away, face set in stone, hands thrown
out at his sides, as soft gray tethers weave in the air, thickening where his
gift touches my skin.
I wiggle my right fingers, and like I knew it would, his attention shifts
to the movement, for the shortest of seconds, but it’s long enough for me to
break through his concentration.
Throwing my arm out, I hit him in the chest with a gust of wind so hard
it knocks the air from his lungs and sends him sliding across the room.
The levitation spell breaks, my body falling the twenty-five feet to the
ground, but I land with the grace of a fucking panther and attack with little
to no effort.
 I jerk my chin left, sending him barreling into a rack of weights,
ignoring the loud shouts that pierce the air as thousands of pounds of steel
crash all around. I nod to the right, and he flies across the floor, his head
bouncing off the giant mirror on impact, glass crashing all around him.
Still, he flies to his feet then, coming full force, and I wait, dodging his
swing before spinning around him and knocking him back down.
He’s up as fast as he goes down, and our eyes slam into one another, but
before he knows it’s happening, his left arm is outstretched, and the long,
sharp shard of glass he unknowingly picked up punctures his skin. He yanks
back, splitting himself clean open from his wrist to the fucking bend of his
arm.
Blood pours from the giant gash like water from a pressurized pipe,
spilling over our shoes and pooling around us.
“Enough!” the trainer booms, his voice supersonic and vibrating my
eardrums until my concentration slips.
I blink, stepping back and Silver does the same, eyes snapping to his
mangled arm that’s already begun to heal itself. A choked laugh leaves him
as my control over him evaporates into nothing, but I don’t stick around for
a conversation. We already had one this morning and it left a sour taste in
my mouth, so I flip off our trainer when he demands for me to stay, going
straight for the fucking showers.
What I really want to do is go the fuck home.
Nah, that’s a lie.
I know what I really want to do, but I also know what I have to do, and
that’s attend all my classes like the good fucking boy my parentals demand
I be. I fucking told them my head wasn’t in it this semester when they
called to check in two weeks after orientation. They told me to be a man
about my shit and suck it the fuck up.
In less colorful words, of course.
 The problem is, I am a fucking man about my shit. I don’t bullshit,
sugar coat, or take the easy way out of anything. I work my ass off, just like
the rest of my brothers, because, like them, I know our world could shift at
any moment if tragedy struck our parents and we’d be called to the throne
as its temporary guardian until one of us completed the mandatory steps
required to reign. Outside of my own bloodline, there isn’t a single person
in this school who can outpower me, and that’s including the people paid to
fucking be here.
Do I know all there is to know about our kind and our world, and every
little thing required of every single person within it? No. Who the fuck
does?
I’m well aware there will forever be more to learn, within these walls
and outside of them, but for some reason, these last handful of weeks those
walls started to feel like a prison cell, so naturally all I want to do is burst
out of them.
My aggression has doubled, my focus has slipped, and for someone in
my position, that’s some dangerous shit.
I’m an heir, a fucking Lord, son to the king of the Stygian people, of
dark magic, and I’m over here manipulating suicide on my best fucking
friend as a way to let out some anger and tension in hopes of feeding my
twisted soul that’s ravaged but won’t share what it hungers for.
By the time I hear the gym doors leading into the locker room open, I’m
already pushing through the front ones and out into the open air.
I make it five steps before Creed falls in line at my left, Sinner at my
right, Legend having told us he would be late for lunch today.
“Heard what happened in training,” Creed says, his eyes scanning the
area as we make our way across campus.
Our college is as old as it looks. The architecture crafted by ancient
artists, some who are no longer with us. The ceilings reach for the sky with
pointed talons before coming down around stained-glass windows. From
the outside, it doesn’t look like much, but when you look closer, you notice
small things. Like how the flowers that blossom from the gardens hold
color profiles that don’t exist anywhere outside of Rathe, the realm and
origin of the Gifted, and the grass blades are thicker. Even the black paint
that has been licked over the walls just seems…more. Everything in our
world is just like the ungifted world, only amplified. It’s kind of like theirs
is constructed in sepia, and ours in vivid color.
“Word always did travel fast around here, even for a bunch of Gifted
pricks.” I try not to let his words get to me as we continue our way down
the path that leads to the main common room. The shine of gold ricochets
off the pathway, hitting the lure purple, pinks, and blues that paint the sky.
Our daylight is different to the human world too. In the way that ours is
better. Saturn’s shadow hovers in the backdrop of pastel colors, and at
night…well…
“You need to let this go.”
“You need to mind your own fuckin’ business.” I quicken my steps so I
don’t have to walk beside him and listen to more of his bullshit the entire
way. My agitation is growing more as the day goes on. It’s like I can hear a
fucking ticking time bomb inside my head. The kind you don’t know when
the final second rolls over.
My eyes drift right as I think that, roaming over the giant stone wing
statue, its gold glittering from top to bottom as names materialize in the
center, each one fading in, all to fade out and into another. Hundreds of
murdered Gifted names are in that thing. The memorial is suspended in the
air, golden swirls winding around its bottom and resign to its top, protecting
it like it’s some kind of treasure.
Waste of magic if you asked me. They’re fucking dead. What’s a
constant reminder of the long-ass list of murdered Gifted going to do other
than be a constant reminder we’re not all invincible? But then again, maybe
that’s what the council was going for, a way to keep the Gifted in line with a
bit of low-key fear, making sure we never forget The Slasher, a Gifted male
who slayed his own for sport, or so they claim.
I say someone fucked him over and his wrath knew no bounds. Sounds
like some shit I might do if twisted the wrong way.
Bet that would get me out of this mandated bullshit of schooling.
Shaking my head, I look forward.
The sky-high class building materializes from the thick shrubs ahead,
and as much as I try to count myself down from ten to calm my shit, I can
feel my magic tingling down my spine and spreading through my fingertips.
Before I can stop myself, I fling my hands out, the double doors bursting
open with the gust of air I threw at them, and I don’t care that they slam
against the wall with a loud crack.
Creed’s heavy huff sounds behind me, but I ignore him, as I ignore
every person that tries to get in a quick hello as my brothers and I make our
way toward our area of the cafeteria. A large round marble table is placed in
the center of the room, pushed against the glass wall that overlooks the
thick forest hidden behind, a safe spot barricaded within them for the
shifters to roam free when feeling amped up. The backdrop of the pastel sky
and vivid greenery spreads wide behind us, and every now and then I think
about stripping fucking naked and shifting into a Lycan, just to run away
from everything and everyone. I don’t want to be here. Usually, my brothers
calm any storm that runs rampant inside of me. They’re not fucking strong
enough for this one. I’m not even sure I am since I don’t know where the
fuck it’s coming from.
My mind is playing games. Sometimes I feel like I’ve reached the tip of
the mountain I was meant to climb, but when I get there, I look up, and the
top is yet another hundred yards away. But I can’t fucking turn around and
go back. I can’t stop and rest.
My body…no, my being demands I keep going. Reaching. Keep
fucking searching.
 A fucking clue to what I’m looking for would be nice.
No sooner than we sit down, do the servers appear from thin air, our
meals of choice being lowered before us.
I give a curt nod, and the little blonde girl who sets mine down flashes
me a smirk, her tongue sneaking out to dampen her lower lip suggestively
before a small puff of white smoke is left in her place.
I hate how all meals are required to take place in the communal eatery
zone, even when we’ve got shit to discuss, others have no business tuning
in . We could use our magic to conceal our conversations, since we’re
stronger than any other student here, but sometimes that’s about as obvious
as dropping breadcrumbs leading to where we are.
The professors can sniff out whenever we use our magic, the heady
smell of heavy lead thick in the air anytime we use it. They’d only ask us
why, and since we have to be on our best behavior while being here, none
of us really want to give any of the professors a reason to check in on us. Or
tell the Ministry we’re “breaking the rules.”
Give me a fucking break.
“You need to figure out what the fuck your problem is, Knight, and then
you need to wonder if it’s worth getting your dick all hard over it.”
I bite into a leg of roast chicken before sucking the juice off my thumb.
“Fuck you. How about that?” I toss it back onto my plate. I don’t want to
take it out on them, and I know it’s not their fault, but right now, I don’t
care about logic. I care about ripping away the days that led to that moment
I saw her, just to see her again. So I can tell her that I hate her.
I hate a lot of things.
Like how we’re required to live on campus with the rest of the Gifted as
if our parents don’t sit on the throne back in Stygian. Rathe U, even if it’s
our temporary home, sits on its own at the edge of the clearing, protected
from the eyes of the other Gifted via whirls of what we’re forced to call
“protective smoke,” the true term forbidden here, a thick midnight gray sort
of fog that conjures up your worst fears and uses them against you if you
dare to approach it without permission.
The Ministry fought our parents on that one but lost. Like the royal
family of Stygian, the dark, more superior world would put all their
remaining heirs in one place as an easy fucking target without the protection
of royal magic, spells created and bound in royal blood ensuring no other
could ever attempt its use.
I also fucking hate when my oldest brother looks at me like I’m about to
rip someone’s head off who doesn’t deserve it. I might. Have before.
We’re stuck in a stare-off when Silver sits down beside me, his head
swiveling from Creed to me.
“What’d I miss?” he asks, dismissing his server as quickly as his food
arrives.
“Boy’s lost it.” Sin grins through a mouthful of saffron seasoned pork.
“Fuck you. If you’d have come when I called, you’d have seen for
yourself.”
“I was about to come when you called, you cock-blocking bitch.” He
chuckles, winking at Alexandra as she takes the seat to my left. “Ain’t that
right, babe?”
“There was no cock-blocking to speak of.” She lays her napkin in her
lap. “Whoever I had in my hands last night was well taken care of.”
A round of laughter fills the table. The girl never did care which Lord
she was lying with. I glare down at my food, hardly tasting the meal before
me.
When I offer nothing in explanation to Silver’s question, Creed does it
for me. “He’s dead set on some girl who saw us partying last night.”
I don’t have to look at Silver, even though his eyes are on me.
“Still?” he asks. “Even after we talked to Gabriel? He said his shield
held strong, no penetration, no breaks. Not even a sign of anyone testing his
strength for fun.”
 I say nothing.
The fuck can I say?
That I felt that shit? Felt her eyes on me?
That the wind gifted me her scent the moment I desired it, even from the
other side of the street and without using elemental manipulation to call it to
me?
How my ass was tense and pissy as fuck until a fusion of lavender,
cinnamon, and cayenne hit my nostrils and spread through my bloodstream,
calming and heating my blood until I was sure it would turn to lava and
erupt from every orifice of my body?
How, while there were lips wrapped around my cock, the feeling of her
eyes on mine was what brought me my finale, sending my cum squirting
down a throat that was too shallow, too cold?
Fuck would they say to all that?
Maybe I need to lay off the Fae dust.
Sensing his gaze on me, I flick my eyes up at Creed.
He’s watching me closely, and I feel his sneaky little gift probing,
searching and poking at the edges of my blocking spell, looking for a way
into my mind he won’t find.
Like all the Gifted are required to do before enrolling here at Rathe U,
I’ve mastered the basic prerequisites, but our parents weren’t satisfied with
the simplicity of the skills that those spells required because they knew, if
there are people out there like us who have the same gifts as our family line,
those measly little tricks will do nothing to keep others out.
You have to really hone in on your abilities to keep a Deveraux out of
your head. It’s too bad for my ever-prying brother, Creed, that Legend and I
already have. Shit, we started learning those the minute we could talk.
Silver’s still waiting for a response, but when he realizes he’s not going
to get one on that topic, he changes it, like a good friend would. “You got
me good, my man.” He grins good-heartedly. “I thought I had you for a
minute there too.”
I smirk at my food , jabbing the knife in the meat and sweeping it across
the pile of blood that seeps from the center. At no point did he almost have
me, but instead of telling him that, I say, “When your eyes shift, your
power is shifting with them. You need to find a way to keep yourself aware
without breaking concentration.”
Creed nods, thinking over everything I just said before turning to Silver
and going into a long explanation of how exactly he can try to accomplish
that. Being the most technically trained of the four of us, Creed has placed
the responsibility on his shoulders to make sure we are as prepared for any
situation possible at the same caliber as he is. And because Silver is my
closest friend and the one man I trust outside of my brothers, that extends to
him as well.
Creed may only be one year older than me, but he’s always placed a
heavier expectation on his shoulders, doing everything in his power to make
sure we always have what we need, and when we don’t, he finds a way to
get it for us. It’s a lot of pressure for him to want to solve all of our
problems, but he’s just wired that way, so we let him do his thing, even if it
is really fucking annoying sometimes.
Legend strolls in, a harem of girls surrounding him as per usual. Around
here, he’s known as the softest Deveraux brother. The sweet, kind, gentle
one of us four.
He is all those things, but he’s also a swordfish in a tank full of sharks,
seemingly the underdog when he’s anything but. His ability to shut down
the anger or panic or pain of others is highly underrated and he fucking
loves it that way.
Rather than dropping into his usual seat, he steps up behind me with a
grin so fucking smug I can only glare at his ass.
“What?”
 “Found her.”
My fist tightens around my fork, and it takes real effort to keep my face
blank. “Found who?”
That smirk on his face only spreads. “I’ll give you three guesses, but
you and I both know you only need one.”
My pulse fucking jumps, my cock right there with it.
’Cause he fucking found her.
She’s here, in this town.
And she’s got some fucking explaining to do.
 Seven

L ondon

M I ,
my work. Rose quartz. The stone of love, self-love, emotional calm, and
healing.
Leaning down to come eye-level to the sphere, I look deep into the
pastel pink swirls of the gem. I’m not a big fan of rose quartz. It has always
seemed too pretty, too tame. Like it was trying too hard to be perfect.
I turn around to the other shelf, my muscles relaxing when I settle on
the dark obsidian cluster. I like the masculinity of the stone. Protection—
power. Safety. My hand grazes over the hard curves and I inhale when I feel
the slight tickle of warmth rush down my back. I’m not sure what it is about
the idea of safety and protection that speaks to me. It’s not like I’ve been in
any sort of danger. At least, not the real kind. In ‘danger’ of failing my
classes? Always, but the kind that hurts or leaves you broken and bruised?
Not so much. I smirk to myself. Maybe these bad boys are doing as they’re
intended.
I know a lot of people are skeptical about crystals and the properties
they hold, but I don’t know. I often think I feel it sometimes, especially with
the darker stones. When I left home to join Ben here in Daragan, I was
bummed I wouldn’t be able to visit my favorite shop anymore, so when he
surprised me and brought me here on one of my quick day trips to visit him
last year, I was juiced.
At first, they weren’t keen on hiring me, but once I officially moved
here this summer, I wore them down. Coming in twice a day every single
day will do that.
“Lonny!”
“Yes?” I chuckle, bouncing to the front counter. I flip open the store
Zippo and light the tip of an incense.
“Help!”
“Oh my god, Justice!” I leave the Zippo on the glass counter and make
my way to the back of the room, pushing open the door and brushing away
the dust particles from the previous century.
“Sorry…” Justice shrugs but flashes me a wide-tooth smile. His dark
brown hair flops to the side of his head as he hands me the box from up
above. Stepping down the ladder, his Vans land on the concrete floor. “To
be fair, I did need help.”
“Sure.” I carry the box out to the front, placing it on the counter. “What
is it?”
Justice pulls out a stool, clearly excited as he whips out a blade from his
back pocket. He stabs the middle of the tape before placing it back down.
“Check it out.” He tosses a little bag at my chest and I catch it mid-air,
bringing it up to my face to see what it is. Little moss-looking stones roll
around the bag, and my stomach twists.
“Wait. Are these?”
His smile stretches wide. One that showcases his best asset. Veneer
quality teeth. “Moldavite?”
“Damn, boy!” I pull the little stones out from the bag, rolling them
around my palm. Moldavite has never caught my attention. I don’t crave the
chaos that this particular crystal can bring. I’m more of a black tourmaline,
onyx, obsidian type of girl. “Well, I gotta say…I’d never pay.”
“Pssshh!” He snickers, snatching the stones out of my palm when he
sees my lack of interest. “One, we could never afford it.”
“True.” I lean down beneath the counter, brushing past all of the dust to
find my wallet. “I can afford lunch, though.” I stand. “Joey’s?”
He rests his arm over my shoulder, directing me out of the store, but not
before flicking the sign over to Closed. “You know, one of these days, I’m
going to convince you to go on a proper date with me. One that doesn’t
include greasy burgers and mid-day drunks.”
I stifle my laugh, turning to lock the door with my set of keys before
grabbing his hand that’s resting on my shoulder and tucking farther into his
grasp. “I tend to like mid-day drunks and greasy burgers.”
“Mmhmm…” He brushes me off before talking about what his mom,
Melinda, and her girlfriend, Jessica, have started. Melinda has a hoarding
problem, only hers involves collecting small businesses. It’s not always a
bad thing, but considering she’s on her fifth this year, I don’t know.
We’re rounding the corner that leads onto the main stretch
of downtown. Daragan isn’t small, but it isn’t large either. It somehow sits
right in the middle. The township is quiet, yet modern, especially with all of
the buildings they always seem to renovate along the roads. Joey’s sticks
out at the end of the street. It’s a large building that curves around the
corner, right at a busy set of traffic lights. The streets are extra crowded this
morning, and the air a little colder than usual.
I zip up my jacket and follow Justice as he enters the diner. Heat crashes
into me as soon as the door opens. Dammit. It’s always hot in here. The
place is forever full, and the cooks are always busy. I would go as far as to
say that Joey’s is in the heart of Daragan.
Justice leads the way to our usual spot and I slide into a booth, sitting
comfortably at the edge of the red leather seat, shuffling out of my coat.
“So, what do you think?”
Unzipping my pocket, I pull out my phone and ChapStick. “Hmmm?”
“You weren’t even listening, were you?” he sulks, his bottom lip
drooping.
Girls are a sucker for that bottom lip. I don’t suck on anything unless
it’s over six foot and has a red flag hovering over their head.
I wasn’t listening, though. “No…”
He rolls his eyes. “I was asking you if you guys have any plans this
weekend?”
I love that he says “you guys,” already aware Ben and I are a duo that’s
not to be fucked with. Letty comes sometimes, but for the most part, she’s
the smart one. Sticks her head down and does her work. Where Ben goes, I
go, and where I go, he better fucking come too. Call it codependent…
because it is.
“Why?” I ask, picking up the menu and scanning through, even though I
already know what I’m going to order.
“There’s a party happening—”
“Jus, no offense, but after the last party you took me to, I don’t know if
I’m up for it.” I squash the memories of the massive rager Justice dragged
us all to a month ago. I tried to blame it on his school friends, since he
doesn’t go to the same college as us, but I can’t. Straight up, Justice is just
trouble, and you put him and Ben together and it’s a catastrophe.
“Aw, come on! If that threesome would have happened, it would have
been fun. At least for you, since I know Ben doesn’t swing his big dick this
way.”
“Justice…’’ I tsk, shaking my head just as a waiter comes to our table
with her little iPad. “I can’t take you anywhere.” I’m about to yap off what I
want when I feel a wave of heat whip past my face. Like being kissed by a
furnace, I swear I can feel warmth penetrate my skin much closer than I’ve
ever felt.
 In the background, I hear the doorbell sound as heavy footsteps pile in,
but I tuck my long platinum hair behind my ear and flash the waiter a smile.
“Could I get the cheeseburger, please?”
“Girl…” Justice snatches the menu off me. “You always get that.”
The waiter leaves just as Justice sighs, running his hands through his
hair. “Look, it’s—I’m throwing the party. But one, you can’t tell my moms,
and two, you seriously can’t tell my moms.”
I stop drinking my water. “You’re in so much trouble.”
“Just tell me you’ll be there.”
“Fine!” I widen my eyes at him, smiling. “I’ll be there.” Movement
catches my attention from behind him and I look to see what it is.
My stomach falls to my feet when I’m met with those sharp blue eyes
I’ve been thinking about. He’s with a group of other guys. Whatever Justice
is yapping about now turns into white noise because holy shit.
Why the fuck do I keep seeing him everywhere now? He looks different
today. His hair looks scruffier, but somehow it only makes him more sexy .
Rough around the edges. Like a jagged blade one would yield as a weapon.
I look around the guys he’s with, and my cheeks flush when I realize how
attractive they all are. Jesus. What the fuck? They all have darker hair
except one, and I would probably go as far as to say that they could all be
brothers.
That one, though. I’d bet he uses his dick like a weapon, serving up a
raw, rugged ride. My favorite kind.
He rolls his bottom lip into his mouth quickly before his tongue slides
over the base and I greedily wait for more.
“Good!” Justice hits my leg with his before shifting over his shoulder to
see what I’m looking at. “Oh, god, Lon. Look, I’ll fuck you, okay? You can
stop being so desperate. Ick,” he jokes, flicking his fingers out at me.
“You’re such an idiot.” I shake my head as the waiter places our plates
down on the table. They’re anything but ick. Clearly, Jus has his beer
goggles on already. “So this party…” I try to distract him. “Are you
expecting hella people? And how do you actually propose you’re going to
get away with this? Literally your whole street is friends with your moms.”
“I know.” He finishes squeezing ketchup onto his plate before sliding it
over to me. “Which is why we’re not having it at my house. We’re having it
somewhere else.”
I’ve known Justice for about a year now, but we didn’t actually hang out
together until I started working at his parents’ shop—my short visits here
last year were fully dedicated to spending time with Ben. Jus isn’t as close
in our friend group, but I’m one hundred percent sure that’s because he
doesn’t go to our school. His is across the bridge and on the other side of
the city. Why he refuses to attend ours is simple. It’s the lesser school.
Although…I’ve not seen much of this school myself, but I haven’t been
here long, so that’s no surprise.
“Where?”
He shrugs off my question. “At a friend’s.” His phone starts ringing in
his pocket, and he reaches inside, his face paling. “I’ve got to get this. Give
me a second?”
I watch as he shuffles out of his seat and moves towards the other side
of the bar. His back is turned to me so I can’t make out what he’s saying,
which is annoying. I need the distraction. Anything to keep me from
perving on the guys opposite us.
I slip out from the booth and make my way to the bathroom. There is
no way my eyes won’t stray. It’s like my body is refusing to listen to my
command to ignore the hot boys and it wants—no—needs to do the
opposite. I swear my muscles strain as if I’m forcing them to move, just to
keep my neck from turning and feet from carrying me in their direction.
I literally rolled so hard on Molly I imagined one of them watching me
while he got his dick, that I’m sure is divine, sucked in a floating fuckin’
house.
 My hormones need to chill the fuck out.
The small hallway leading to the ladies’ room is empty when I reach it,
the lighting too dim for a restaurant in my opinion. I’m about to press on
the door to enter when an arm is on mine, turning me around and forcing
me up against a wall.
“What the fuck!” I try to whack the hand away, but a palm is pressed
tight over my mouth to shut me up and I’m staring into a pair of angry blue
eyes. The intensity of them resembles more of a turquoise color than
anything else, like the shade of swirling waves off the coast of a tropical
island, dark and light at the same time. And right now, they’re a raging
fucking tsunami and I’m the land it yearns to destroy.
He tilts his head to the side, his hand sliding down just enough to free
my lips. This guy is pissing me off. Is he stalking me? “What’s your
name?”
I shove him off me again, ignoring the way my heart thrashes around in
my chest the second my fingers brush against the bare skin of his arms.
“This how you ask every girl her name?”
The corner of his mouth curves upward slightly as if my rage amuses
him. “Not usually, no. Answer the question.”
“I’d rather not.”
He brings his hand back to the base of my throat, moving me gently up
against the wall once more. I think I feel a slight tremble in his touch, but
his tone makes me question my senses because it’s calm and controlled.
“Huh. Funny how you didn’t play this hard to get with a tongue down your
throat.”
“Fuck you.” I go to walk away from him, but he blocks my path.
My eyes flick over his shoulder, which is hard to do since he’s literally a
foot and some taller than me, towering and caging in my small frame like a
beast would his next meal. His posse stands behind him, two with dark hair
and unnaturally pale skin like his, and one with the oddest shade of silver
I’ve ever seen. They almost feel unnatural. Their energy is unreadable.
My eyes catch on the broody looking one to his left for a moment.
When he shifts closer, his darker blue eyes narrow accusingly, and a look of
frustration draws his features tight the longer he stares into mine. When his
lip curls cruelly, I cave, bringing my attention back to the guy before me.
“What is it?” I pop a brow. “You guys want to gloat? Maybe rub it in
that I, the female, was the desperate one? I was drunk, and if you want to
get real here, the kiss was purely a game piece that I needed to get someone
off my back.”
“Yeah, because that was it…” he answers blandly. “What’s your
name?”
A scoffed laugh leaves me, but when his glare only sharpens, I clear my
throat, and this time, when I try to shoulder past him, he lets me.
A little more rattled than I’d like to admit, I grab my phone and wallet,
heading out the front door to wait for Justice. Fuck those guys. No matter
how hot he is…
No matter how hot they all are.
The doors open again and I stand up straighter, expecting to see them
walk out, but Justice is running his hand through his hair, the wrinkle lines
between his eyes deep. “I’ve gotta go back to work. I’ll walk you back to
campus if you want?”
“I can walk, Jus. Everything okay?”
He stays on his phone, the worry lines getting deeper. “Not really. Hey!”
He shoves it into his pocket, his demeanor changing. Bringing me in closer,
he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’ll call you, okay?”
“Sure!” I watch as he walks the opposite way, running across the road
and looking over his shoulder every two seconds.
As if someone was chasing him.
Or stalking him…
 Starved since we didn’t get to eat after all, I drag my cranky ass back to
campus.
When I get home, I kick the front door closed, unbutton my jacket, and
toss it onto the small table in the lounge when a small envelope falls out.
Our room is one of the smaller ones offered here on campus, but it was the
only one available in the coed dorms. We weren’t about to complain. There
was no way in hell Ben and I would be separated again, even if it was only
by a few hundred feet or so. We’re all each other has.
I lean down and pick up the envelope, tossing it onto the table and
kicking off my shoes. I fall down onto the sofa, resting my head against the
edge when my phone starts blaring in my pocket. I swipe to answer it when
I see Ben’s name flash over the screen and the first selfie we took with each
other. His pierced tongue is out, his dimples sinking into each side of his
cheeks, and his honey brown eyes glistening with mischief.
“Yes?”
“Did Justice tell you about his party?”
“He did.” I stand, making my way to my bedroom to gather everything
for a shower. Fatigue has long since poisoned my muscles, and as every
second passes, I feel myself fading. Damn . “Are we going?”
“Definitely.” That’s code for he has found someone to get with while
he’s there.
“Mmmm. And what’s her name?” I ask, picking up my belongings and
making my way out our door to the showers. We could have lived off
campus, but neither of us could really afford it right now, which is another
reason we settled for a two-bedroom dorm. It’s nice enough to call home.
“Ahhh, you will have to wait until the weekend because she’s coming
with us.”
I drop my shit on the counter and shuffle out of my clothes. “Fine. Are
you finished? I need to shower.”
 “No! What do you want for dinner? That’s why I called. It’s my turn to
cook, but I can’t be fucked.”
“Anything. I’m not that hungry tonight. More tired.”
“Oh?” he asks, and I know I’m not getting rid of him anytime soon, so I
switch ears and make my way to the showers.
“It’s no big…it’s just—” Do I tell him? My best friend who can read me
like the fucking alphabet? He’s going to see my lies all over my face when
he digs, so maybe I can give him a ploy for now. I don’t think I’m ready to
admit that a certain someone is occupying all my damn time. “—nothing.
I’m due for my period, so I’m being extra sensitive.”
“Oh!” he brushes me off. “Need some tampons or some shit?”
“Ben…”
“Maybe some ice cream?”
My Ben, always trying to take care of me.
My smile softens. “Okay, I’m leaving you now.”
“I know, vodka and ice—” I hang up on him, chuckling while tossing
my phone onto the counter with my clothes. I rush through the shower,
scrubbing up in half the time before stepping out and into my shower
slippers. I scroll through Instagram on my way back, flipping through Ben’s
story. He’s a ho. A different girl every week will have his attention, but
does he ever talk about them with me? No. So who is this one and what
makes her different? Maybe he’ll finally settle down. God can only hope.
Kicking my door closed, I toss all of my things into my room and
shuffle into one of Ben’s oversized shirts I’ve officially claimed as my own
that stops above my knee and some knitted socks. Ben won’t be back for
another hour, so I grab my laptop and open up my assignment.
School sucks. I’m here because I’m doing what every other person does
at my age, but there’s a lingering ache that continues to pound deep in my
gut anytime I think about the future. I can never see it. I’ve tried, but all I
see is nothing.
 I see nothing.

D
destruction. A loud thumping sounds behind my ears, and anytime I try to
look around to see where it’s coming from, I’m met with an empty street
shaded by fog. I can barely see three steps ahead of me.
I turn back to the bridge that’s sticking out of the fat clouds, taking a
careful step closer. The sound gets louder—so loud I feel the drum beating
against my head. I just want to see what’s over it. What’s on the other side
of this bridge? It has to be—a dark cloak falls from the sky in a rush and I
stumble backward, falling on my back, a loud scream tearing from my lips. I
barely finish screaming when I feel something force itself down my throat.
My veins ripple from fire and my legs buzz like static.
I think I am dying. This is it. I’m dying…

I ,
body. My heart stammers in my chest as I try to catch my breath. What the
fuck is happening? I’ve never had nightmares before, ever, and this marks
two in one week. But that’s not the strangest part. It’s the realness of it. I felt
the pain. The utter defeat that fell over me when the other side of that
bridge grew farther from my grasp.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I rub them with the palm of my hand when
the wind’s gentle touch caresses me from around the nape of my neck.
Goosebumps break out over my flesh when the sharpness of ice slides down
the apex of my spine in the next breath. I shiver loudly but pause when a
sense of wonder falls over me. It’s…different. Puzzling. Almost as if it’s
right there. A heavy sense of hate and need twisting together into a
suffocating tornado, but while I feel it, I also…don’t. Like it’s outside of
me. Without touch.
Like it’s not mine…
The thought is troubling, especially since I’ve always been keenly in
tune with the emotions of others around me. Everyone has always called me
an empath, and I believe it. I know when Ben is upset, sad, happy. It’s never
that I can see it and read him; it’s that I feel it, but this? This is stronger,
more, in every sense of the word.
With furrowed brows and trembling fingers, I grip the edges of Ben’s
shirt, pulling it up my body to wipe the sweat from my brow, and instantly,
I’m slammed with a sense of soul-crushing possessiveness, so strong it
makes me gasp. The shirt falls from my fingertips and the hairs at the base
of my neck stand when I feel the weight of eyes on me.
I jump from my bed, a yelp leaving my mouth slightly as I reach for my
bedside lamp, but I knock my phone off instead. Finally, I clamber for it
enough to find the switch and light fills my room, blinding me in the
process.
An empty spot in my room stares back at me, and for the first time ever,
I think maybe I’m going crazy.
 Eight

K night

T I’ I ’
want to be here. At Rathe U. The first time was when I was told I’d have to
come. Naturally rebellious, I hated anyone telling me what to do. My beast
hated it too…
The second time was when I was late to my first day. Royals aside, I
didn’t want any extra attention on me, and I got it that day.
The third time? Is now. Right the fuck now because I am one hundred
percent certain that the seconds here feel like hours, and the hours like days,
and the days like weeks, and well, catch my drift. Everything drags on.
My heavy boots slap across the long marble pathway. The front of the
school is where the main entrance building and our sleeping quarters are,
with the rest of the buildings separated and scattered around into sections.
The monsters all stay in one area, as well as the vampires, the Lycan, the
Ordinaries, and the Power Banks. All Power Banks, who fall into the
Ordinary category, have no true power worthwhile yet. They’re above the
catacombs, where the bloodthirsty monsters all reside. Since the blood
suckers can’t feed off them, they’re safest there.
 The rest of us… on the other hand…
I drop down onto a chair, watching as groups of Gifted walk through.
Same shit, different fucking day. Before Sin starts going off about whatever
bullshit he’s got on his mind, all of our phones vibrate, and we reach for
them to see who it’s from.
Father: Your mother and I will be in town at witching hour
tomorrow. Make sure all of you are present.
I glare at my phone. There it is. Legend had warned us at the party they
were coming, but tomorrow? That’s earlier than even he expected, if the
look of concern on his face tells me anything. Our parents haven’t made a
random drop-by at the school since—well, I can’t remember the last time.
Actually, I can.
“What the fuck are we missin’?” Legend takes a bite of his apple. We
all know what he wishes it was .
“Yeah, well, maybe something is happening that we don’t know about
yet and they’re coming to tell us.”
“Something they couldn’t share over the phone?” Creed ponders, but his
eyes remain on mine.
Since yesterday at the diner, he’s been all over my shit like a fucking
Bengal at an airport. Creed is naturally standoffish and moody, so it’s not
like it’s uncommon for him to be this way. I just wish he’d finally fucking
mate and put us all out of our misery.
“Obviously not.” The fact that our parents are going out of their way to
rise from the comfort of hell rings alarm bells. They don’t shift weight for
anything.
Creed still hasn’t taken his eyes off mine, and I slide the can of O neg.
across the table, dragging my finger over my upper lip. The last time Creed
and I went head-to-head, it was a bloodbath. Literally. The fact that Creed is
the oldest brother doesn’t mean shit here. If you’re weak, you get weeded.
Creed isn’t weak. I’m just hoping he mates first so he can take the fucking
throne he’s so thirsty for. Aside from the obvious, it makes sense he takes it.
He’s smarter. Levelheaded and makes decisions that are right, but right
now, he’s balancing on my last nerve. I can’t decide whether I’m pissed
because he’s obviously picking through my emotions like a fucking all-you-
can-eat buffet, or because that last fight I just mentioned only happened a
couple weeks ago.
I don’t want the crown and I sure as fuck don’t want a mate. I’m too
impulsive for that too… obsessive. I’d likely kill her in a fit of jealous rage,
and then my soul would eat me from the inside out. And nobody wants a
dead royal.
Our family wouldn’t survive that a second time.
“Stop.”
My head pops up to find Creed glaring at me from across the table and I
shrug my shoulders, sitting back.
“No one said you had to tune in.” If he did find his mate, or at least a
solid toy, he could spend his time obsessing about her instead of what the
fuck is going on inside my head.
His eyes only narrow farther, so I flip him off, but then my attention is
pulled to the right when Justice fucking “crystal boy” walks in.
He gets one look this way and tries to beeline it in the opposite
direction, but I jump from my chair quicker than his steps can carry him,
catching him by the collar right as he slips out the double door.
I yank him back, and then Sin is there, throwing his arm over Justice’s
shoulder. He tugs him in close, his arm locked more around his neck than
anything else, and Justice’s shoulders draw up as he fights to keep the
frown from his face.
“How’s it hanging, Jus my man?” Sinner grins, but it’s one that
promises foul play. “Your little Giftless shop treating you well?”
Justice frowns but doesn’t fight Sin’s hold. “It’s not a Giftless shop.
Plenty of Gifted believe in the way of the crystal, and it’s not mine. I just
work there to help my parents.”
“If it’s not a Giftless shop, then why are Giftless working there?”
His eyes dart my way, narrowing. “That was you guys, today at the
diner?” His eyes bounce between us, trying to figure out what everyone
does when around us, and failing. “I smelled the use of power. The place
reeked of lead,” he accuses.
Sin chuckles, patting his chest as he steps away, both of us standing
before him.
“Who’s the girl, and why is she working at your store?” I need to
fucking chill. Not with this particular piece of shit, more with my brothers.
They can taste my bullshit before it even leaves my mouth.
He grows uneasy, his gaze snapping all around before settling on me.
He shrugs. “She’s no one. Some chick who goes to Daragan State. She
applied, and my moms hired her.”
“Do you tell every girl who applies at your moms’ shop that you’ll fuck
her?” The words leave acid on my tongue. I hate the way it tastes going
down. Like fucking Giftless blood. Bitter, desperate, and fucking vanilla.
“I was…” he trails off, swallowing.
Yeah, sit on it before you fucking lie.
Before I can think twice, the words fly out of my mouth as fast as they
enter my mind. “Fire her.”
His head tugs back. “I can’t.”
I step into his space, raising a brow. “Excuse me?”
Unease grows within him, his heart rate spiking. All it does is fuel mine.
Like being left on a crescent moon, hungry for blood. For murder. For
chaos. My gift thunders within me, pressing against my flesh in a tingling
wave.
“She’s …” He pauses to think. Finally, a defeated sigh leaves him. “She
won’t care if I tell her she’s fired. She’ll just keep coming back until we hire
her all over again. She’s—” He chuckles lightly, and I don’t particularly like
the way it fucking sounds. My hand comes to his throat and I watch the
contrast of my skin against his. Justice is an Ordinary. He’s no one fucking
special. His powers start at healing, and pretty much end at shielding. I
mean, they aren’t completely useless, but if you have a Mage, their powers
are replicable. And I do…have a Mage. She’s about five foot six and has
legs that I’ve only ever really seen pressed behind her shoulders. “—
persistent like that.”
Fury drags its fingers down the apex of my spine, turning it to steel on
its way down. He knows her. Not just her name, but her. Fuck. I could just
kill him. Fuck the law. Neither my brothers nor I wanted to be here in the
first fucking place.
This—school—was for the civilians of magic. The ones who didn’t
yield the power we have, or the bloodline. This school is for kids to be put
into their respective power houses and to manipulate their gifts in hopes of
being a quarter as powerful as us.
Fuck it. I could kill him and people wouldn’t bat an eye because I am
Knight fucking Deveraux, and everyone knows exactly who the fuck I am,
and if they don’t? They are about to.
But I fucking can’t.
Because I am Knight Deveraux, and there is someone worse than me.
We call him Dad. And Mom. Actually, they’re both fucking terrifying.
But I knew this already, knew he was, at the very least, her ‘friend’.
Why the fuck else would I be standing here, seconds away from losing
control and frying his Fae dust-infused brain?
My mind doesn’t seem to care. Apparently, knowing and hearing are
two very different things ’cause I’m feeling fucking triggered.
I’m going to fuck with him. Hard. I’ll humiliate him, make him hate me
the way I hate her. I’m going to enjoy every second of it. It will be all her
fault.
She’s nothing. No one.
 Nothing but a toy to be played with and we will play. The sooner it
happens, the sooner this shit can end and I’ll have one less thing to worry
about, going back to the moody motherfucker I’ve been since the term
began, instead of this moody motherfucker with a hard cock. This past
week has been fucking rough.
I’m yanked from my thoughts, realizing I’m still standing here glaring
down at this Ordinary fuck when another low laugh leaves him. It’s as if
he’s thinking of what he said, picturing her and what she’d do.
I push forward, my chest smashing to his and knocking him back two
steps.
Justice stiffens, his hands rising.
“She’s coming to my party this weekend,” he says in a rush, cursing
himself a second later.
My muscles stiffen and I want him to continue. I want him to continue
because I want to see her again.
Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck is happening?
“If you…” he has to force himself to keep talking. “If you want to see
her again, London will be at my party.”
London.
London.
Electricity sparks along my sides, up and over my chest before burying
itself inside. It pulses there just beneath the skin like it’s waiting for a sharp
shock to set it free.
Her name is fucking London.
The snack-size girl with hair like frost and eyes like verglas. They’re a
freakish frozen shade of blue on the inside, with a thick ring of raven black
on the out. Her head fit well under my chin, and if I would have pressed a
little closer, her entire body would have been buried by mine. Not an inch
left of her in sight.
 I want her like that. At my mercy. Bare beneath me like a perfect little
doll.
I must stand silent for too long as Sinner’s arm folds over my shoulder,
and he gives me a subtle shake.
He grins at Justice. “So, Ordinary, tell us more about this party.”

M , ’
for us. Our parents prefer not to be seen outside of their domain when it’s
not a pre-planned event with amped up security, and it’s probably for the
best. Just because we’re the strongest of our kind, that doesn’t mean the
ignorant don’t attempt an attack on my family every now and then. It’s the
same cycle. They try, they fail, and then they die. Mom would eat them, but
she’s off meat right now.
Like in the Giftless communities, there are dangers and crime in ours.
You just don’t hear about it as much because the Ministry keeps everything
under wraps. They act as a council, making sure the peace remains settled
between not just the different faculties of Gifted, but also back in our home,
Rathe, where our world is split in two. Where there’s Light magic, you’ll
find Dark magic, and since my father is the King of the Night, or as we call
the dark, Stygian, that puts us directly on the firing line. The Light, or as we
call Argent, have their fair share of drama too. They like to blame us for the
thick of it, but the truth is, just because they’re Light magic, that doesn’t
necessarily mean they’re good. All that aside, The Ministry and the royal
monarchy have gone back and forth for thousands of years to keep both
sides safe, forming this bullshit Giftless style of a government after the
King and Queen of the Argents were slaughtered by The Slasher, the one
and only Gifted serial killer our world has ever known. The ins and outs of
what followed their murders is a boring tale of one big fucking pissing
contest where the worst man won.
And he is still winning.
My father is as savage as you would expect someone of his position, but
he’s reasonable too. He doesn’t want to disrupt the dynamic between the
Ministry, the Giftless, the Stygians, or even the Argents.
“They’re here,” Creed announces, pulling me from my thoughts. Fuck.
What could possibly warrant them coming all the way to Rathe U? The last
time they did, it was to give shit news. Hopefully, no one else has died.
The four of us climb to our feet, descending the spiral staircase that
leads to the first floor of our condo. My bare feet pad along the thick red
velvet carpet, and I know my lack of shoes won’t go unnoticed by my
mother. In all her years, the woman has never been spotted with a single
black hair out of place. She’s a firm believer in a pristine appearance and
can’t be bothered with those who aren’t. She’s not a terrible woman, just a
judgmental, stuck-up one. She’s a product of the job.
Legend opens the heavy iron door, revealing the thick cloud of
protective smoke. We hear a gruff shout, followed by a low crackling
sound, and then my father’s laughter reaches our ears like talons of a
monster that’s on his one hundredth day fast.
Slowly, Father and his suited up guard break through the sable smoke,
waving the scent of heavy metal away from my face.
Vicente snaps his head in my father’s direction, but my dad only laughs,
clamping a hand on his shoulder as he looks our way. “Told him the smoke
wouldn’t affect him if he entered with me. Fool believed it.” He grins,
stepping up to Creed for a handshake. “Son.”
“Father.” He nods, looking at Vicente, Silver’s father. “Fear of fire,
huh?”
The man confirms nothing, just straightens his tie and steps beyond us.
Vicente is my father’s oldest friend and loyal companion. I think even if he
and Silver didn’t live at the palace all their life, Silver would have still
found us. He’s the brother we all needed and helps balance out the toxicity.
My mother strides through the doorway with a walk that would put a
Victoria’s Secret model to shame. She pats down her silken crown of coal-
colored hair, flashing me a wicked smirk. Mother, if anything, knows how
to make an entrance. Her black gown is rimmed with blood red rubies and
flows behind her as she lifts her chin on entrance, her guard following her
every move but avoiding eye contact with the lot of us.
Shifters, one of the many monsters of our world, are naturally on edge
around us since we’re at the top of the monster food chain. Of all the
fucking chains really, but it’s worse since they’re linked to one of many
others through a blood bond. Similar to my fuck-off brothers, or being
mated, this allows them to telepathically communicate with other members
of their pack. Basically, if someone were to say…peek into the mind of one
—if powerful enough—they could essentially see into all.
Outside the door, the smoke swells, thickening until the cool charcoal
color is nowhere to be seen, and a thunderous black cloud swirls before us,
sealing us in tighter as its strength triples. Not even the Gifted’s most
powerful shields banned together can break through my father’s prize
creation.
“How many people did you bring?” I wonder, knowing we must be
surrounded if the protective fog is feeling threatened.
“The usual. Two of each strength.”
Sinner meets my eyes as he closes the door behind them, a silent
thought passing between us.
That’s not the usual. That’s twice the usual, in fact.
Mother looks from me to Sin a couple times, and in the end, decides on
a simple, “Hi, baby,” as she presses her lips to our cheeks. She’s not an
overly affectionate woman, but she’s not stone-cold either, just a little more
numb than she once was. In some ways, we all are.
 “Do we want to go into the royal lounge or …?” Legend asks, eyes
sliding toward the shifter acting as my mother’s shadow. Knowing without
the privacy the soundproof room provides, the woman is sure to hear our
every word without even trying. Mother is a bitch, but that bitch is a
feminist. All of her guards are women.
We could use magic to protect our conversation, but our parents don’t
like it when we have to find ways to hide in our own home. We’re forced to
do that enough outside of it, so it’s not surprising when our dad decides
against it.
“The royal lounge will do.” As always, he takes the lead, holding his
arm out for my mother to take, and we wait for them to climb the stairs
before following behind. His stature is wide and brute. He’s built for war. A
weapon in himself, you take one look at Dad and you ain’t fucking with
him. He doesn’t need his royal title to hold the dominance in any room.
Vicente is the only person outside of my family who joins us in the
lounge, choosing to position himself in front of the giant floor-to-ceiling
window that overlooks the campus. The entire place is set slightly away
from the rest of the university, but close enough for us to see everything
that’s going on.
Down below, all you see is tinted black glass, but from up here? You see
everything. Ancient architecture and stone finishes crafted by the hand of
only the finest artists. Our “private dorm” is more like a mansion. Six
bedrooms, a gym, a private pool that stretches out onto the patio with water
that flows down, evaporating before your eyes. It is definitely our home
away from home.
It didn’t take long for us to completely deck it out either. The view from
our balcony is the best the campus has to offer, being our house is at the
highest point of the hillside. The ample mountains behind the school are the
home of the Lycans, and to the far right of them, the catacombs.
 Of course, he can’t see any of that at the moment, as the demonic smoke
senses his eyes on its power and sparks, taunting the monster staring at it.
My lips twitch, but I move closer, and the entity settles, slowly separating
until a circle-shaped hole appears, allowing Vicente to keep watch.
When the clink of crystal sounds, I turn back, finding my father and
Creed at the bar, pouring each of us a finger of whiskey while Legend
prepares my mother’s cocktail just the way she likes it. A skill we learned
early. Alcohol helps keep our thirst down, but it does jack-shit for hunger.
It’s a good distraction, even if it does nothing to get us drunk without some
added party favors.
The sweet little Mage we’ve got in our back pocket provides it all. The
Argents here at the school will do just about anything for a taste of
darkness. Even if they’d never admit it out loud.
The royal lounge is exactly what it sounds like, a lounge built for royals.
It’s nearly identical to the one in our wing of the mansion back in Rathe.
Like a battle of war and peace, it’s a constant tug-of-war in Rathe between
Argents and Stygians, even though we haven’t had an incident in some
time.
Since Creed was here on his own his first year, even if we did portal in
nearly every weekend, Mother wanted him to walk into the comfort the
Deveraux mansion provides. This is about as close as you’ll ever get.
The royal lounge has walls the color of burning ember right before it
turns to coal, and the windows are a satin shade of black. The rooms have
their own level. Four levels are for the bedrooms, one for the main living
and kitchen area, one for the gym and pool. From every room you have a
three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the campus below. From the
outside, the building looks like a black glass tower, with a sharp castle-like
point that’s reaching for the sky.
Legend lowers beside our mother on the sofa, and no sooner than the
liquor warms her throat, does she speak.
 “Something is wrong,” she says, capturing all our attention with those
three words.
I cut a quick glance at my father, but his eyes are on her.
“I’ve been nocto-purging.” Mother takes another sip, her jewel-covered
hand lifting to brush her hair behind her. “Going to sleep, but not sleeping,
waking with odd items in my hands.”
We listen intently as she shares what led her to making this impromptu
visit. Her Principal Power, the gift you’re born with and passed down from
your mother’s bloodline, is a tricky one. Her mother, our grandmother, was
an Oracle, but my mother’s gift is different. She’s a Presage without clear
vision. She knows when something is coming … when that something is a
threat to us or our world. It’s the perfect gift for the Queen of Darkness, but
one that causes more frustration than anything else.
Thank hell, my brother and I have a much clearer Principal Power than
she does. How could it not with the blood that flows through our father’s
veins?
“The first night it was a feeling of confusion. Loneliness. The ache for a
place but in a person. The second was blood. So much blood. Death….”
Her eyes find my father’s for a moment, and then she says, “The third was
the head of a crow sitting in my left hand, its body still jerking in my
right.”
What she’s saying means nothing to us, that’s obvious by the mirrored
confusion painted across all my brothers’ faces.
Still, my father asks, his eyes focused on our temples rather than our
eyes, “Have any of you felt a change within you in the last few weeks?”
My parents know I’ve been in full-on dick mode since I got back, so I
shake my head no. Nothing they aren’t already aware of.
My brothers do the same.
Next, it’s Vicente who speaks. “What about with your power or within
your mind? Anyone causing trouble outside of the normal?”
 “Nothing we haven’t dealt with ourselves and even then, just your
normal angsty, teen bullshit. People trying to show off and having to be put
in their place.” Creed frowns, resting his forearms on his knees. “What else
should we be looking for?” He focuses on my mother, who loses herself in
the deep amber liquid inside her glass. “What signs might there be?”
Our mother thinks hard for a moment, but when she comes back with a
simple smile, we know the conversation is done.
“If concerns rise, you will know.”
And now we know for certain there’s more she isn’t telling us.
With that, she finishes off her drink and rises from the single leather
chair. My father takes her arm, and without a goodbye or glance back,
they’re gone.
The feeling of loneliness, death, and a decapitated crow…
None of that shit means a thing to us, but her purging items never do.
Only her mind can connect the dots, and she will. If not now, eventually.
Like a puzzle that refuses to be solved, my mother’s mind is her best friend
and her worst enemy.
Until then, this little trip will be wiped to the back of our minds.
Mine especially. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, starting with a
white-haired doll that I’m looking forward to breaking. Maybe see what’s
inside of her. I want to rip her apart to get to know her better. See what
makes her tick.
Watch out, Little London, ’cause I’m coming for you, and if you’re a
good girl, I might let you come for me too.
 Nine

L ondon

I . T
heart thrums to a dangerous beat and my legs ache from fatigue the longer I
go. I could continue for hours, my stamina unmatched. Well, I only have
Ben to compare myself too, and yeah, I beat out the hockey stud every time.
Tapping the next song on my playlist, I suck in a deep breath as the dirt
beneath my sneakers kicks up. The incline hits my calves in a way squats
never can, and I push forward faster, desperate to get to a flat area. The
Weeknd is singing about how he wants whoever his latest girl is to call out
his name, and I am hundred percent sure that he is talking about Selena
Gomez.
I skid to a halt, tearing my AirPods out of my ears and swiping the
sweat from my forehead. The track is rugged terrain, but of all the places I
could find around this small town, it’s by far my favorite to run. After yet
another day of feeling like I’m studying for no reason at all, I need the
clarity that nature gives me, and since I promised Ben I would stop running
at night—when I can really fucking breathe under the glow of the moon—
this is as good as it gets.
 Sighing, I push the loose hairs from my forehead.
Why can’t my life ever be easy? Why can’t I be like Ben, who knew
what he wanted to do when he was four years old?
Fuck.
I go to put my foot down, but it slips over the edge and I’m falling
backward, stumbling down a steep hill. A yelp escapes me and dirt fills my
mouth as I hit the ground with a hard thud.
“Fucking ow!” I groan.
After all that, my AirPods are still snug in my ears and I reach up to pull
them out, my hands falling to my sides when I finally catch my breath. I
better not have broken anything. The last thing I need is a hospital bill I
won’t be able to pay—the crystal shop doesn’t exactly pay top dollar.
I wince, attempting to push up from the ground while pulling twigs and
leaves out of my hair. I’ve run this track a lot. Never once have I slipped or
strayed from it, and I certainly have never fallen down a damn bank.
“You seem to find yourself in the worst positions.”
I pause, the blood pulsing through my veins flowing a little faster now. I
could recognize that voice anywhere, which is ridiculous since we haven’t
known each other long. I don’t even know him now. “Well…” I brush the
dirt off my leg but wince when I feel a sharp pain stab against my inner
thigh. “Shit.”
He chuckles, and I finally look up to where he stands, thinking I’d see
him doing some weird shit, but he’s not. A large boulder protrudes from the
water and his body sits perched on top. It’s like I finally notice everything
that I didn’t before. Like the sound of a waterfall crashing against a large
bed of water or the manic flapping of birds’ wings from above. I glance up,
watching as they scatter from the trees as if a threat has revealed itself and
instinct screamed run. A strange sense of adrenaline bursts behind my ribs,
but I swallow beyond it.
 He shifts around, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement.
Why is he here, and most importantly, why is he here shirtless? It isn’t
helping me at all. I don’t even know his name.
“What’s your name?” I ask, attempting to get to my feet again but
retreating when the ache in my legs worsens.
“Knight. What’s yours?” His tone is flat, but if my senses are on point,
as they always are, he had to work really hard to get it that way. Or maybe
it’s the tic in his jaw that makes me think so. Or maybe he already knew my
name. “Er…London.” I finally manage to shuffle up against a tree trunk,
unzipping my pocket to get my phone out. I’m going to need
reinforcements to get the hell out of here. “Are you stalking me?” It’s half a
joke as I scroll through my contact list to find Ben. If anyone is going to
steal a chopper and save me, it would be him.
“What the fuck?”
I jolt in shock, my phone slipping from my hands as I look up at the
shadow that stands before me. Jesus. His naked chest gleams with either
sweat or water, I don’t know, but I have to crane my neck to see it. He’s so
damn tall and I’m half my already small size sitting on my ass. I look down
at his ripped jeans and heavy boots as I attempt to lean around his body to
see how far away the rock is that I just saw him perched on, but before I can
move, his hand is on my chin and his face is level with mine.
I stop breathing. My stomach twists like someone has reached inside
and squeezed it.
“Who said you could touch me?” I ask. In the back of my mind,
annoyance pricks at the gentle whisper. I’m not gentle. I’m nowhere near
gentle.
“I do what I want.” His thumb grazes the rim of my bottom lip and my
breath hitches when it leaves a trail of fire along the base of my spine.
“You’re bleeding.” I lose myself in the depth of his eyes. As blue as an iris.
Too bad I want to watch it wilt.
 “No, I’m not.” I move my face away from his touch, but he squeezes it
again, forcing my eyes back onto his. God fucking dammit.
The corner of his mouth kicks up in a slight smirk, showing a slither of
his Colgate perfect teeth. Ridiculous. No one should ever be this attractive.
Or have hands as roughly divine as his.
“What are you doing out here?” Irritation poisons my words as I try to
tidy myself up more. The throbbing between my thighs only intensifies, and
the more time that goes on, the more obvious it becomes.
He turns over his shoulder slightly, the gravel crunching beneath his
boots. He pauses for a second as his eyes find the thick forest behind the
waterfall, but he quickly collects himself when they rest back on me.
Maybe he was busy, and that was why he was shirtless. I most likely
messed up his kinky little fuck-a-thon.
I look in the direction of the water, the sensation of a thousand tiny
thumbtacks pricking at my back as I wait for his woman of choice to show
herself.
But then he clears his throat with a shrug. “Swimming.”
A little whirl starts low in my stomach, smothering the irrational
irritation that was brewing there.
“Right…” I try to stand again, but the gravel bites into my palms and I
wince again, bringing them up to my face. Cuts and grazes are all over the
cushions of my hands when he snatches my wrist with his one.
His eyes slice to the small wounds, brows pulling so low it casts a
shadow over his features. It’s as if he’s fighting against something I can’t
name, his dark gaze flying up to my face, and then back down again, a
tortured darkness blanketing him.
My breath runs shallow. “What are you—”
He leans in farther, and my words die in my throat. I watch, completely
transfixed, as he drags his tongue over my hand, keeping his eyes on mine.
 My body quivers at the connection, subconsciously called closer, but he
brings his other hand to my throat, squeezing in warning. He doesn’t want
me to move, not a single centimeter. His face hardens, his pupils blown
wide. So wide I swear his eyes almost look completely black for a moment,
but I know I’m delirious from the heat … or something, when a split second
later they seem to flash white.
Too many emotions flicker across his face to name.
“Fuck,” he forces past clenched teeth, his grip tightening on both my
wrist and my neck.
Is he going to kiss me?
The warmth of his breath touches my lips and his eyes cross together
when we’re too close to see each other. My heart beats erratically in my
chest, as if it’s trying to warn me to run, to get the hell away as the birds
did.
I’ve never been very good at listening.
My lips part slightly and Knight makes his decision.
He takes them with his own.
My stomach drops to the ground and my veins turn to fire as I deepen
the kiss. His fingers trail around the curve of my throat and to the back of
my neck, forcing me closer to him. Electricity burns over my flesh the
longer we’re connected and I reach aimlessly to the back of his head, fisting
his hair and tugging on it. I need to get closer, so much closer. I need to
know what his skin feels like beneath mine—god. What the fuck.
He shoves me away and I fall forward from his absence. My ears buzz
with the comedown of adrenaline that’s still racing around my body and
crashing into every emotion on its way down. My head swims with fatigue
as I try to blink past what just happened.
“Fuck…”
“Okay. Wait—” I shove up from the ground, finally able to make it to
my feet, but by the time I’m at full height, Knight is gone.
 He eradicated the last kiss frozen in my mind. That was different.
Darker. More.
There were no butterflies in my belly from that kiss because he
slaughtered every single one of them with a flick of his tongue.
 Ten

K night

T
Rathe

I sit in the chair and watch as our butler carries a long rectangular plate
down to the end of the table. We all know why the fuck this meeting was
called, I just wish I had more time. I don’t want to go to the fucking human
world, even if ours still merely exists in it. Creed doesn’t mind being there,
but we all knew he only said that to keep Ministry’s ass nice and buttered.
It’s my turn. Fuck.
I can feel Legend’s and Sinner’s eyes on me, but I try to ignore them.
Legend, the fucker in particular, can’t wait for me to leave so he can use all
my shit. Even though he has his own—and can have his own of everything I
have —he still takes more joy in using what isn’t his.
“What do you think?” my mother asks.
The table slowly melts away and turns from liquid gold to solid, with
intricate carvings over the base. They tell a story, one that is just as lame as
the one that’s happening right now between Mother and Magdalena.
Magdalena is the leader of the Mages, representing them as a whole as part
of the Ministry. Fucking annoying with an ego the size of a dragon’s shit.
“I think you both signed a contract to state the boys—I’m sorry, the
Lords—will attend Rathe U as they should, as all the gifted do upon high
school graduation. It allows our kind to exist among humans and trains our
kind to see the Giftless as something other than, well, pets. Aside from that,
the Lords have been surrounded by Stygians all their life. They will need to
learn how to, at the very least, tolerate Argents too, especially if they intend
to take the crown.” I want to know who intended for this whole thing to be
a democracy.
“They won’t be existing among a lot of them,” my mother answers back
with the kind of swagger only she can possess.
“Well, that’s just not true and you and I both know that,” Magdalena
whispers around the wine glass in her hand. Pink liquid swirls around inside
of it with glitter as pale as her white painted fingernails tapping against the
top.
White nails, white dress, white fucking eyeliner winged along her lids—
it’s always white with these dark magic haters. So desperate to classify as
pure, as if that’s going to help them get to where they think they’re going
post-death.
What’s funny is the lies and scheming don’t come from the Stygian
side. They come from the Argents. We, the dark of our kind, are what we
are and we give no fucks what others have to say about it. Them? Psh, they
hide within themselves, dumb things down, and sugarcoat as not to fuck
with your feelings.
Such a pathetic, Giftless way of thinking.
“Do I get to say anything?” I pipe in from my side of the table. All night
I’ve watched them go back and forth. Sinner and Legend have both zoned
out of the conversation, Legend toying with a certain Mage. Thankfully, not
the one at my table right now. Not that Magdalena isn’t attractive. All
Mages are. They’re able to cast Anointings that both freeze their aging and
make them look however they like. It’s fun, until you’ve got a Mage riding
your dick and the Anointing runs out of juice and you find you’ve been
balls deep in Janice from down the street. Fucking trickery.
Magdalena shifts her siren gaze on me. Her skin glitters the angrier she
gets, and I have to bite down on the magic jokes. She could also turn me
into Janice from down the street, and although I’d personally have nothing
wrong with that, I know my mother would turn her ass to dust. Which
would trigger Rathe War Two.
The last one still burns my brain so I would avoid that shit at all costs.
“Speak,” Magdalena’s tone snaps over my skin.
My mother calmly sets her glass down, and I know she’s reciting the
royal decree in her head to keep herself from sinking her teeth into this
woman’s neck. If she were anyone other than one of the four Ministry
members, she wouldn’t even hesitate. The conversation would already be
over.
My mouth curves into a smirk. “Well, I just think it doesn’t matter
because we all know Creed will be the first to mate and unlock his Ethos, so
why the fuss over me? It’s bad enough I don’t want to go, why are you
teasing me?”
“Son…” Father floats through the doorway before it evaporates into
thin air. The boardroom in the Stygian realm of Rathe is a movable room
that drifts over the continent wherever they are. Whether it be here, in
Stygian, or in Argent.
“What?” I shrug. “It’s true.”
“Mating has nothing to do with age,” Magdalena argues. “Some go their
whole lives without finding their soul keeper.” Her gaze lingers a little too
long on my father and mother.
“Such encouraging words, Mage.” My father pins her with a look before
settling his eyes on mine. “But she is right. You know this, son. Age has
nothing to do with the mating process, and even if it did, Creed is but a year
older than you. Chances are you mate around the same time, Sinner and
Legend as well.”
“Yes, and my son is the same age as you-”
“I’m well aware of who your son is,” I cut her off. “Not that I care to.”
What’s a preppy prick who acts human and comes from light magic worth
to me? Not a fucking thing, but I’m not interested in talking about her
precious pussy of a hockey player son, Zeke, so I get us back on track.
“I don’t want to mate. Neither does Sin.”

M ’ ,
gaze as she looks to me. “Blasphemy, Deveraux. We are created missing a
part of ourselves with the purpose of finding what makes us whole. It is the
way of our kind, both Light and Dark alike.”
“You should be happy to hear this.” My smirk deepens. “We all know
the last thing you and your little light followers want are more Deverauxs.
Between my three brothers and me, think of all the little monsters that
would be running around wreaking havoc on the world you’re trying to
ruin.”
“Knight,” my father snickers, but even the Mage can’t pretend not to
read the humor in the man’s tone. It’s that fucking obvious.
Magdalena is getting more frustrated by the second, her skin damn near
glowing now, probably at the thought of the boom in the Deveraux
bloodline that’s arguably destined to come, not that she’d admit to it. If
Creed were here, he would know which it was.
She swallows what’s left of her drink before pointing her eyes on me
once more. “You can claim not to wish to mate, but you’ll never come into
your Ethos if you reject what is meant to be yours when the time comes.”
My mother’s head snaps her way, and the Mage corrects herself. “Should it
come at all.”
She’s not lying. That bullshit fate slaps on you is real. Like shackles
dipped in a pool of shielders’ blood, the chains around your Ethos are
impenetrable, only cut free when the mating ritual is completed. When
you’re ‘accepted’.
It’s sorcery if you ask me. We’re royals, Deverauxs, Lords of Darkness,
for fuck’s sake. That alone should give us access to the gift our father gave
us. Our blood should set us apart from the rest of our world in all ways, but
it doesn’t.
When it comes to tapping into our strongest selves, we’re just like the
rest of our kind.
Fucked until fate catches up.
The Mage smirks in satisfaction. Smug and assuming that she chose the
right words and knocked me off my feet. As if I’ve never thought about it.
Too bad for her, I’m not the fool she’s making me out to be, so it’s a
communal sight when a dark chuckle rolls past my lips, the sound sparking
uncertainty and drawing wrinkles to the edges of her eyes.
I lean forward in my seat, placing my forearms on the table as I cock
my head at her. “There are many ways to get what you want in this world,
Mage, and in Stygian, we do what we must to ensure we get it.”
She holds my eyes for a long moment before pushing to her feet. “Well
then, it’s a good thing you will be spending the next four years in the human
world among both Argents and Stygians then, isn’t it? Perhaps you’ll learn
a thing or two about…restraint, or at the very least, diplomacy.”
My monster digs its claws into the crux of my mind, my eyes flashing
her favorite shade like a playful prick. “Don’t count on it.”
“What I’m counting on…” The Mage floats to a door that appears from
nothing, turning to face me with her body hovering halfway through it. A
smirk covers her face and she lifts her chin. “…is your prompt arrival on
orientation day. See you then, Knight Deveraux. I look forward to…
opening your eyes.”
With that one last threat, the bitch disappears.
I look to my mother, who frowns at the space where the Argent was,
facing me when she realizes I’m staring at her.
“Yes.” She dips her chin, answering before I have a chance to ask the
question. “The bitch is right. You must attend Rathe U. If you have to play
dirty to pave your way there, so be it. You’re a Deveraux, strong. Stygian
pureblood. There is nothing that town or school could throw at you that you
can’t handle. You know this.”
I jerk my head in response, accepting the fate I knew I would be forced
to face even before this pointless little mandatory meeting.
My brothers and I push from the table at the same time and our parents
give a small nod, excusing us. We turn toward the wall, and a door
materializes, the three of us stepping through, the other side leading to our
mansion.
Legend and Sin pop off with jokes about the Mage, slapping my back as
they curve left, knowing I need a fucking minute.
I curve down the long, winding hall, passing the cursed trophies from
battles won encased in the walls, and pausing at the room you have to pass
on your way out when I find it pushed open.
This door is never open.
It hasn’t been in over a decade.
I step up to the threshold, but something stops me, refusing to allow my
feet to carry me inside. A gust of wind whirls this way, sweeping through
the hall and slamming it shut in my face.
Of course, there’s a protection spell to keep you out.
If only there was one back then.
Shaking my head, I turn, and I don’t stop walking until I’m in the
Phantom Gardens at the back of the estate. Why I come here when I need to
feel grounded? I don’t know.
I’m not much for flowers or plants if I’m not swallowing or snorting
them for the after-effect, but these aren’t just any gardens.
They’re grown with the blood and ash of my ancestors. Every Deveraux
that’s come to pass lives on in the soils beneath my feet.
The weeds whistle in the wind, urging me forward, and I bend as the
Phantom Rose sprouts from the dirt, growing from nothing but dirt to a
fully bloomed flower before my eyes. I reach out, cocking my head as I tug
the deep, midnight purple petal free, watching as it turns from its deep
eggplant color, to black, and then a small puddle of blood sits in the palm of
my hand. Drawing it to my nose, I seek the warning of the unknown
Deveraux, look to speak and scent a lighter one than I expected. Closing my
eyes, I call on my senses, seeking its name. It comes almost instantly.
Lavender with a pinch of spice.
My nostrils twitch, and I frown, the scent not what I’d have expected.
It’s too soft. Too…ordinary.
I suck air through my teeth when a sharp prick digs into my shin. My
head snaps down as the crimson vine tethers itself around my leg. Wrapping
it with my free hand, I tear it from its roots, tossing it to the side, and
watching as it turns to ash, seeping down into the ground on contact, a new,
fresh vine growing in its place.
As I look at my palm, the small puddle of blood begins to quake, tiny
shards of glass biting from its edges, and I pull it even closer.
It’s not glass, I realize. It’s…frost. Ice.
Footsteps carry behind me, and I cut a quick glance over my shoulder,
but no one is there. Slowly, I return my gaze to my palm, but all that’s left is
ash.
Pursing my lips, I blow it from my skin, but unlike the vine, the small
gray and black flecks rise, disappearing into the night like the shadow of a
reaper.
 Sighing, I climb to my feet, looking up at the rotating galaxies above
with a glare.
I will go to Rathe U without a fight, do what my mother says, because
she’s right.
There is not a damn thing in this realm or the next that could bring me
to my knees.
Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
 Eleven

L ondon

“T J ’
kink fantasy?” I grip the ends of the satin sash, flipping it over from one
side to the next to inspect it for any sign of prior use. I’m not about to put a
blindfold over my eyes that’s crisp from someone’s messy fuck-fest.
Thankfully, the blindfold looks brand spanking new, or at the very least,
well washed.
“Do not put me, Justice, and kink in the same sentence. I swear,
sometimes that dude is whispering shit in my ear, but acts like nothing
happened when I turn and look at him, and don’t say we.” Ben glares at the
black sash in his hand as if it personally offended him. “This shit is all
you.”
I shrug nonchalantly, tossing the gift we found outside our dorm door
with instructions back into the bag, and drop on the couch, the two shots I
took while bitching Ben out for stealing back my favorite night shirt, that
he’s lying and saying he didn’t take , already having loosened my muscles.
“Fuck it then, let’s watch reruns of Forensic Files.”
 I reach for the remote, but Ben is quick, snatching and raising it in the
air, so I jump up, throwing myself onto his back when he tries to escape.
He laughs, flopping backward and knocking the air from my lungs
when his big ass athletic body falls on top of mine. I wrap my legs around
his frame, locking my ankles against his stomach and pulling him into a
playful chokehold.
“That’s what I thought, Benjamin. You want to go to this party more
than I do ’cause you think you’re getting laid by this mystery girl tonight.”
“There’s no thinking about it, babe. This girl is riding my jock hard. I’m
definitely sliding in tonight.”
I pretend to gag in his ear and his laughter continues, but a knock at the
door ends our fun.
Together we stand, staring down at the sashes, our frowns matching this
time around.
“ We really about to put these on and let him lead us out of the dorms
for all to see us like that?”
Sighing, we pick up the fucking sashes and tie them on our heads.
We sure as fuck are.
It takes us a minute to get the stupid blindfolds in place, but oddly once
the small knots are in the right position, the smooth material seems to
somehow form to our faces, growing snug in all the loose places and less
uncomfortable than they were at first . My muscles relax as my shoulders
ease, erasing any of the reservations I had about trapezing through a dorm
full of college students with a different male’s hand threaded into each of
mine.
I can’t help but notice how neither feels quite right against my palm.
Our fingers never line up, the difference in our skin making each other grow
clammy and leaving me desperate to wipe them along my dress.
Luckily, we are in the elevator quickly, stepping out onto the bottom
floor just as fast. The moment fresh air washes over my face, I smile,
knowing we’re one step closer to the good part of the night—getting fucked
up and potentially finding someone to fuck me up in all the best ways.
The devil knows I need a good dick-down right about now. Anything to
replace the memory of Mr. Hot and Cold Fuck Boy’s lips on mine. Shit.
Anything to erase the memory of his skin touching mine. I swear, when I
lay down last night and draped myself in the darkness of my space, I could
feel his hands on me once again. The second I closed my eyes and felt
myself drift off into a dream state, all I pictured was his mouth on mine.
At least my annoyingly in tune sense of touch kept the nightmares at
bay for the first night since they began. I’m getting real sick of dying every
night.
Metaphorically, of course.
“Okay, bend a little and step in.” Justice’s tone tears through my
memory. “And what’s with the bandage on your hand?”
“Cut it on some rocks yesterday.” I shrug, dipping into the car.
“You should be more careful,” he chastises.
“You should let me worry about her and move to the driver seat,
assuming you’re the only one we’re making fools of ourselves for,” Ben
claps back.
I smirk. I fucking love my best friend.
I hear a door close and then another, so I reach across the seat, finding
Ben’s arm to make sure he’s there.
“It’s me,” he confirms, already knowing. “So how far is this party, Jus,
and please tell me everyone is pulling up with a blindfold on?”
“Yeah, yeah, all the Giftless—I mean, all the people invited were, uh,
Gifted with blindfolds, so yeah… yeah, they’re all showing up like this,” he
stutters as he speaks and Ben squeezes my thigh. “But don’t worry, you can
take it off before we go inside. You just have to wear it on the drive over,
but once we’re through the shield, or I mean the, uh, shielded gate, you
know, that hides the house from the street and stuff, you can take it off.”
 “Dude, did you pop some Adderall or something?” I laugh, and Ben
chuckles with me. “You sound like you’re on one.”
Justice laughs, then clears his throat. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
I nod, dropping my head back on the seat and blowing air through my
lips, making them vibrate. “Any party favors in here? I’m way too sober for
it to be ten o’clock already.”
“Slow and steady wins the race, babe,” Ben whispers against my ear.
“Says the guy who ends up in second place, Benny, but don’t worry, this
won’t be a blackout-and-wake-up-to-you-pulling-me-out-of-the-town-
fountain-naked kind of night, promise. Jus?”
Justice scoffs, likely assuming I just popped off with some random shit I
came up with, but nope. I’m the worst kind of hot mess, living with a sense
of loss of purpose and in skin that doesn’t feel like it fits. That will do that
to you. With the help of a handful of Jager bombs, of course.
“I have something, yeah…if you’re sure.”
Oooh, sounds like Justice came prepared with that good shit. “I’m
sure.”
“Wait, what?” Ben snaps, and I can hear him shuffling, as if he’s
looking back and forth between us even though he’s blindfolded. “What is
it?”
Fingers tap my chin and I take the cue, opening my mouth. Something
powdery, yet sweet, like a Pixie Stix, falls over my tongue, and when I
swallow it, it leaves a coating of detergent at the back of my throat.
“Tell me what it is before you give it to her,” Ben demands angrily.
So damn bossy.
Feeling slightly guilty, I run my tongue all around my mouth, and my
brows flicker when a tingly, heated sensation trickles along my veins,
taking with it every thought and feeling outside of peace.
The stresses of moments ago wash away and I sigh, relaxing into my
chair while leaning my head on Ben’s shoulder. “It’s okay, B.”
 Ben tenses, and even to me, I hear the change in my voice, the airy,
dreamy-like sound that’s now laced with whatever he just put in my mouth.
I vaguely register the thought of how gross it sounds, but I’m just too damn
alleviated to care.
“Fuck, you gave it to her already.” His shoulders fall with his heavy
sigh. “Give it to me too.”
“Are you sure?” Jus asks him carefully.
I want to rip this blindfold off. Do I trust Jus? Sure. I’ve known him
since I got here and he hasn’t given me a reason to not trust him yet, but he
needs to not question my best friend.
“You didn’t fucking ask her that, man,” Ben snaps. “And you gave it to
her anyway, so yeah, I’m fucking sure.”
Silence, and then his heavy weight presses into my side.
My lips curve up. “Scoot over, big brute.”
“I can’t. My body feels like it does after a loss and Coach hands it to our
ass on and off the ice.”
Weird.
The drug is affecting us differently. I feel nearly weightless, calm, and
all those other giddy feelings you get when you’re in your happy place, like
when the moon is at its highest and the owls come out to whisper their
secrets into the night.
“Don’t worry. The powder wears off pretty quick,” Jus tells us, and my
bottom lip drops a little. I’m Zenned the fuck out and loving it.
Just then, I’m jolted forward as a wave of energy slaps against my skin
before softening, like the feathers of a bird tickling the tip of my nose as if
to sniff me out and say hello, which sounds fucking crazy. In the next
second, that welcoming kiss grows, and it’s like walking through a
waterfall. All at once, it washes over me, minus the dowsing wet part. The
sensation begins along my knees, bent over the edge of the seat, fanning out
in perfect sync until my body is swallowed whole as if I’m the moving part
and I’ve left the feeling behind me.
“You doing okay, London?” Justice worries, and I feel the car come to a
stop.
“Perfect.” My smile is instant. “Why?”
“You jumped forward…”
I shrug, gripping the back of his seat. “Are we here?”
“We just pulled in.”
I don’t wait, yanking off my blindfold, my eyes bulging at the sight.
“Holy …”
I tap on Ben and he yanks his away, head snapping left to look out my
window. “Dude, what was in that powder?”
“Whatever it was,” I find myself whispering as I blindly reach for the
handle and climb out, my fingers folding over the frame, “I’m gonna need a
bottle of it, ’cause this is fucking epic.”
The house is laid out in front of us, only fire and ice melt over each
side, meeting at mid-point with sharp points and flickering flames.
Water sprays into the air, forming icicles in the night, just before they’re
covered in a blaze, both evaporating into thin air.
“I didn’t think hallucinogens could make me see people turn into…
what the fuck even is that? And is that chick sitting on a throne made of …
fire?”
Justice chuckles, leading us up the windy walkway, so we do the only
thing that makes sense right now and follow behind.
A damp wetness slides up my thigh, and when I look down, a light
laugh leaves me. A giant dog peers up at me from below and I tap its thick
mane of fur with the tips of my fingers.
“Lon, don’t move,” Ben whispers, an adorable panic in his tone.
“There’s a wolf about to eat you.”
Ooooh, a wolf! The term Lycan flashes in my mind and I smile wide.
 Yes, that’s what it is. Not a dog.
I bend forward to run my hand along its back, when Jus attempts to
direct me away, but the glorious beast growls low in its throat.
“Lycans don’t make good pets.” He tugs on my hair a bit, and if I
wasn’t so distracted by the fire pulsing through my veins, I probably would
have thought more into what he just said.
“Challenge accepted,” I tease, running my fingers through its thick fur.
It feels like silk against my hand, almost leaving a tingling sensation in its
wake. The other Lycan he was chasing howls, and my new friend takes off,
disappearing into the dark shadows beyond the house in a flash.
Sighing happily, I stand and shake my head.
“Okay, what the fuck.” I laugh. “This is some seriously game-changing
shit you gave me, Jus. Did I just become a coke head? Consider me
hooked.”
“It’s not just the drug. It’s … so, this place is built from illusions. There
are, uh, machines and mirrors and high-tech shit you can’t see that make
you see things that aren’t there. Think of it like…” he trails off, searching
for the right word. “Like a virtual reality ride or set of a movie where all the
CGI shit is projected for you to see. Yeah, yeah, that’s what it is.” Justice
runs a hand through his dark hair, nodding at someone as we enter. I don’t
bother to turn to look, because I am way too busy lifting my arm as I notice
glitter fall over it from the ceiling above.
Ben pulls me in closer, throwing his arm around my shoulders to steer
me through the madness inside.
Glitter smoke hovers above the dance floor, and the walls are made up
of glass, allowing direct view into every room in the house. I turn to the
left. Two girls lie on a bed that’s levitating in the air. Smoke swarms
between them and the floor, and one of the girls turns her body around to
face us, her perfect tits bouncing from the motion. A male appears behind
her then, grabbing her from the front of her throat, drawing her naked body
flush against his as the other girl—her little brunette friend—shuffles
beneath the girl. She leans up, sucking her pierced nipple into her mouth.
The guy squeezes the girl’s neck tighter, and my pupils blow wide as I
watch in awe as claws grow from his fingertips. He digs them into her
throat, and her lips part as she surrenders all control to the man—beast—at
her back. He doesn’t wait a single moment, but forces her onto his cock.
Her back arches as her pretty mouth falls open farther, but her friend below
catches her moans with her own before I hear the sound that leaves her.
A sheen of sweat slicks over my skin as my thighs clench together. Just
as I’m about to reach for Ben, movement catches my eye from another
room, and there are three guys in one capsule. One runs his hands over the
other’s abs, leaning down and sucking his cock into his mouth. Receiver
guy buries his hands in his hair, tipping his head back as he allows the other
to swallow him whole.
The third comes up behind the one doing the sucking, tipping out a bag
of translucent white powder over his back, leaning down and snorting a line
in one go while reaching behind his back, sliding his finger down the crack
of his ass and massaging his heavy balls in the palm of his hand.
Shit.
So. Hot.
I almost feel like I shouldn’t be watching, but I feel the heat rush to my
cheeks from the familiar heaviness of someone watching me. A flash of
silver catches my eye and my body freezes as my gaze tracks the figure
from the kitchen.
It’s one of the guys Knight was with at the diner. I haven’t spoken to
him directly, but the way he stares back at me always leaves a bitter taste in
the back of my throat. And now he just caught me perving on the
exhibitionism in the glass rooms. I need to go back there.
Ben tugs my arm as he starts walking us into the living room, where
more people are gathered. I don’t want to look too close, afraid of what I
might find, so instead, I turn to Jus, desperate to change the subject to
anything. Anything but the fact that he could be here.
“Hey, Jus, is everyone coming tonight from your school?”
“Mostly, yeah, but you might recognize a few people from yours.
Usually every clique invites at least one…ah… outsider.” There he goes
again, with the humming and hawing. It would annoy me any other day, but
tonight I don’t care. Or at least I shouldn’t. Where’s that shit he gave me
earlier? I think mine is wearing off.
I scoff. “Outsider? We literally live on opposite sides of a bridge. You’re
being dramatic.”
Jus only chuckles. “Hey, I’m going to say hi to someone. Look around,
have fun, but don’t leave with anyone, okay?” His eyes search mine, the
depths the color of honey chocolate and cocoa flakes. Fuck. I am fucked
up.
Ben and I nod enthusiastically, secretly squeezing each other because
we are most definitely hoping to leave here with someone.
The moment he’s gone we start laughing.
I swiftly steer Ben toward the door a certain silver-haired boy slipped
through, but before we make it halfway, we’re intercepted by a leggy
blonde with green eyes and tits that would make Pamela Anderson weep.
In a flash, her hands are on Ben’s pecs and his body jolts slightly.
Frowning, I look up at him, but he’s smiling wide at the Playboy version
of Barbie before him.
“Alex.” He smirks.
“Benjamin,” she purrs back and I kind of want to vomit because I know
that tone. The sugary sweet tone of desperation.
Ben was right.
He’s getting laid tonight.
When I release his arm, he looks at me and only then does his mystery
date Alex do the same.
 She smiles at first, but then her head tips and she presses closer, her
heels meeting my Chucks.
Wait. Is she about to kiss me?
I mean, I wouldn’t stop her if she were. Actually, maybe I would since
she’s Ben’s happy ending tonight. I’m not about to join in on some kinky
shit with my best friend. Love him, seen and appreciate the size of his cock,
but I don’t want it anywhere near me.
Suddenly, one of her hands leaves Ben, her teeth sinking into her lower
lip as she reaches up to cup my cheek, but before her palm can meet my
skin, her wrist is caught mid-air.
All our eyes snap up to the guy it belongs to and my mouth runs dry.
Crap.
It’s the other guy from the diner. The angry one with a darker shade of
blue eyes than Knight but the same color hair and skin. The similarities …
they can’t be a coincidence.
They have to be related.
“Creed.” Alex grins, and I swear little sparks burst in her eyes. “Want to
play too?”
Ben and I catch each other’s gaze a moment and he fights a grin as if to
say I found myself a freak, be jealous. And you know what, I might be if I
wasn’t so interested in what this Creed, as she called him, has to say.
“Not this one.” His tone is calm, a stark contrast to the harshness of his
expression.
The guy is tall, maybe almost as tall as Knight, minus an inch or two,
and I can’t help but enjoy the way his black shirt stretches over his biceps.
I’ve got the urge to lick across the bulging vein there, but the death glare he
shoots me makes me think he wouldn’t be into that.
But the way his tongue rolls across his lip has me questioning my whole
life. Or maybe I’m still horny from the live action and I’m not thinking
straight.
 “Why not? She smells so…sweet. Different.” She reaches for me again.
“Almost like I can taste her already. And the boost…”
O-kay. She’s a looney freak.
And what’s this about a boost?
“Not. This. One.” Creed’s words are low, lethal even.
Alex doesn’t push. She grabs on to Ben’s hand and drags him into the
swarm of sweaty bodies. He turns, flashing me a thumbs-up before he’s
gone. Poof. Disappeared and most likely about to have the best night of his
life.
Lucky bastard.
Before I can face forward, Creed is in my space, backing me up until
my heels meet the edge of something that prevents me from going any
farther.
His eyes are an entrancing sort of blue, like the glare of the ocean on a
stormy night. Even hard and narrowed on mine, there’s something gentle
about them. Something deeper than the anger his expression wants me to
hold on to. Almost a sort of panicked desperation for…more. More of
what? I couldn’t pretend to guess, but I want to.
Apparently, I want to touch him too. Before I know what I’m doing, my
hand has lifted, my fingers brushing over the tension lines of his eyes.
When my skin meets his, warmth brushes my fingertips. The lines deepen,
but he turns further into me. Not enough for it to be noticeable, but enough
for him to cover more of my hand. He’s so close that I can feel the muscles
of his thighs against my hips and the length tucked in his jeans against my
stomach. He’s hard.
For a moment, he leans into my touch, his own darting up to grip my
waist and a sharp breath hisses past my lips.
His hand is large, his grip strong.
Creed lowers his head, and I wonder if he’s the second person in the
span of five minutes who’s about to kiss me and if I have any intentions of
stopping him, which I’m pretty sure is a hard no. At the last second, his lips
find my ear.
“Careful, Little London. The Lycan are the tamest of predators at this
party. Wouldn’t want you to stumble upon something much … darker.”
“What’s wrong with that?” I egg him on, my breath fanning along his
collarbone as he’s still bent toward me. I smile when the muscles constrict.
“There’s something so enticing about all the trouble you can get into when
the sun has burned to ash and all that’s left is the hidden cloak of midnight.”
I lean farther into him. “Can I play?”
I swear I hear a small groan from deep within his throat and the fingers
pressing my hip dig deeper into my skin, but he yanks himself away as
quick as it comes, stalking past without a word.
Dropping my head back against the wall, I take a moment to breathe,
unable to deny the ache that’s settled between my legs. This party is one
massive pussy tease. I’ll fuck the next thing that bumps into me. I need
something. Or I’m going into one of those rooms. Preferably one that runs
like a thirty-minute circuit.
Okay, yeah, I need to find myself a body for the night. It’s only fair
since Ben is clearly getting down that I get down too.
Dragging myself from the corner I finally make my way out of, I
stumble toward the kitchen, shoving drunk bodies out of my way. If I have
any chance of making it through, I’ll need something. If I’m lucky, more of
whatever Jus gave us earlier. I spot a small vile all the way against the back
of a shelf, and my hands clasp around the bottle as I read the inscription:
Fae Dust, single shot.
Huh. Must be a mythical themed party. Justice should have told me and
I would have worn the black wings I bought for Halloween.
Bringing the tiny bottle up to my nose, I sniff it before dipping my
pinkie inside and twirling the contents with it. Pulling it back out, I study
the glittery concoction that’s dusting my pinkie. Why is it so pretty?
Bringing it to my mouth, I allow the Fae dust to dissolve on the base of my
tongue as my eyes roll to the back of my head and the sugary taste of
vanilla and freeze-dried berries slide down the back of my throat. Different
from the last stuff. No chemical harshness left behind.
I pour half of it into my final shot and throw it back with a smile. Here’s
to hoping this shit’s half as good as whatever Justice gave us. Judging by
the fatigue that’s slowly aching in my muscles, I’d say that has almost worn
off.
Movement catches my eye to the side, and there’s that silver blur again.
Placing the empty little black bottle onto the counter, I follow the flash
of silver through the doors, but as I step through, I pause. In the backyard,
the greenery is lit up from little fireflies that look like LED lights. They
probably are LED lights. The flowers in the bushes illuminate pink, yellow,
and purple, and the small pathway that leads out to a lit up in-ground pool
glows a brilliant shade of ivory. A naked girl starts walking toward me, her
skin glistening like glitter. Her blonde hair falls down past her toned ass,
and as she passes me, she flashes me a small smirk. I’d barely wrapped my
mind around her, when I stop walking, my feet planted to the ground.
Wait.
Was I going to follow him in hopes of seeing Knight? But wouldn’t
following his brother, because I’m convinced Creed is his brother, have
been more effective? Why am I following the silver-haired stranger?
I spin on my heels to make my way back inside, gasping when I come
face-to-face with the silver-haired hottie.
Fuck me is he hot. If Mr. Freeze and Elsa, a grown-up version, had a
baby, this guy would be it. His hair is almost polished silver, his eyes almost
the same shade, and now on mine.
“Hi.” My cheeks heat.
Okay. I really, truly do need to get laid. I’ve never blushed so much in
my life. In fact, I don’t fucking blush. I get what I want, and I leave. Sex is
a transaction for me. It’s enjoying those minutes—or hours—where all of
their attention is on you. Just you. Probably my daddy issues talking, but if
you ask me, sex is the closest feeling you’ll get to magic. Real magic. Not
this cooked up, drug-induced version of it.
“Hi.” He smirks, taking a tentative step around my body. In this
moment, I’m painfully aware of how similar it feels to being the prey.
“Your name is London.” He backs up slightly.
“It is.” My feet decide to follow, as if he’s placed a collar around my
neck and is leading me with a leash. “And you are?”
Without looking, he maneuvers through the crowd that pays us no mind,
and I walk the same path, stopping before a sphere of burning flames heats
my cheek as it passes us. That’s some seriously good CGI shit. It’s even
projecting heat.
Movement beyond it catches my attention, and my eyes lock with yet
another shade of blue.
The buff, teddy bear of a guy smirks, cocking his head at me, but then
the other answers my question.
“My name is Silver.”
My gaze snaps back with my head. “Wait, seriously? Your name is
Silver? What kind of Harry Potter shit is that?”
A low chuckle from behind the fire sounds, and I briefly meet those
blue eyes again, but quickly pull them back to Silver.
Silver smiles, and it’s a nice smile, flirty and smoothe. “If Harry Potter
had a ten-inch cock.”
I don’t bother to hide my grin. “It was Draco for me.”
“Fan of the twisted then?”
“What can I say?” My head tilts as I allow myself to take in what he’s
wearing. Casual jeans, Jordans, and a clean white tee. “The dark is where I
hide.”
 Those lips stretch higher, and I reach up to tuck my hair behind my ears
to keep myself from reaching out and touching him like I did Creed.
Jesus, I’m a needy bitch tonight.
Silver’s eyes zero in on the bandage around my palm and he frowns.
“What’s this?”
I shrug, waving it in front of him. “Ah, that would be what happens
when I get distracted. Couple small cuts from a rock yesterday. No biggie.”
Suddenly, he flashes forward, taking my wrist, and I wince at the heat
that shoots through my palm when his flattens against it.
I yank from his grasp and he lifts his hands into the air in surrender.
“What the hell?” I glare. “I said I was cut.”
“Nah, I don’t think you are.”
My head tugs back. “Excuse me?”
Silver fights a grin, and I have no fucking clue why he and blue eyes
share a laugh.
“I’m sorry, do you know me? Follow me around and watch my every
move? Can you see through cloth and sports tape?” I snap. “I’m pretty
fucking sure I’m cut.”
“Nah,” he says again, almost as if in challenge.
Growling, I shake my head and tear at my shitty bandage job. Poor Ben
did his best with what we had at home, but his hands are big and mine
small, so it’s a mess. “I don’t know why I’m entertaining you, but it must be
because you’re stupid hot and that Fae shit I took—”
“What did you say?” He’s in my face again, eyes flicking between
mine.
“You’re hot?”
He shakes his head.
“…that I drank some Fae shit?” I frown. “I mean, I can pay for it if it’s
an issue. I don’t expect to ride for free, but it was sitting there so I figured it
was fair game.” I already feel lighter on my feet, so I think it’s setting in.
I’m not exactly sure what it’s supposed to do, but my skin feels warm and
those beer goggles are coming out, not that I need them. Every person I’ve
laid eyes on so far tonight is a rare kind of fine.
“Sitting where?” he whispers, his silver gaze gauging my every move.
“On the counter with the rest of the foreign bottles of alcohol. I thought
it was a prop, you know, to go with the Freaky Friday theme going on.”
Silver’s brows snap together, his lips tightening, and I use this moment
to lift my now exposed hand, wiggling my fingers in his face.
A hint of a grin twitches along the corner of his mouth before he strides
off and I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to wrap my hand back
up now that I tore the —
Wait.
I pull my palm closer, frowning at the skin there. The perfect intact, not
even a scratch in sight skin.
Huh. I guess Ben did a better job than I thought.
Neosporin for the win!
Slowly, I step up to the fire, admiring the wicked flicker of the flames
that flash from red to blue and hold my hands above it. I close my eyes, and
before I realize I’m doing it, my hips begin to sway, the music suddenly
matching the beat in my chest.
With my sight blocked, my skin grows warmer by the second and the
sensual rhythm rolls through my ears. I lose myself, giving my body and
mind over to whatever the hell flows through my system.
I’m a fucking victim of my own making, and I’m dying for someone to
make me theirs for the night.
As if my naughty prayers reach beyond reason, a strong body presses at
my back. Arms snake around my waist, tightening as I sink into their form,
craving more.
I lift mine, wrapping them around the person’s neck behind me, and I’m
rewarded with a low groan that sends a shiver down my spine. I try to turn,
but he holds me still, dipping his head into my neck. I gasp at the razor-
sharp swipe of his tongue against my flesh.
“So fucking sweet,” he rasps, nipping at my ear. “Not that I forgot…”
My muscles lock, my heart rate spiking, and finally, his hold eases
enough for me to spin. How? How do I not care about anything but him at
this moment? Probably because I want to get laid, and if I had to take a
pick, I’d rather the hot stranger I find myself wanting to kiss. Men are
allowed to be vocal about their sexual appetite. I have no shame in
announcing mine. I know what I want and what I don’t want, and I have no
problem vocalizing that.
I nearly lose my balance when my eyes lock with my new favorite
color.
“Knight,” I whisper, struggling to catch my breath with every passing
second.
His turquoise gaze glitters with mirth, yet it does nothing to hide the
savage swimming within them. “London.”
His left arm comes around me once more, his right coming up so he can
tease me with his fingertips, drawing goose bumps on my flesh along the
path he traces from my bicep to my neck. When the pad of his thumb
brushes along my lower lip, my tongue flicks out for a tiny taste.
Knight groans and we begin to sway again.
“Like this dress, babe.” He bends a little until the hem is in his hands,
and he bunches it, dragging it up higher and higher until the chilled air
sweeps across my exposed ass, my thong doing nothing to hide me from
anyone who cares to look. I like my body, so I don’t give a shit who sees.
Besides, there’s a naked chick hanging in the air, spread eagle. I’m fine…
and my pussy is prettier than hers anyway, so people can look all they
want.
“I’d like it more on my bedroom floor, though.” Both of Knight’s hands
find my ass now, and he squeezes, pulling me closer, grinding me against
him. “I bet you look good splayed open on black satin. We would go all
night.”
We.
He and I. Since when?
“Feel what you’ve done to me?” he rasps, grinding his hard cock against
me.
I nod, unable to speak as I wrap my hands around his neck, dying to get
closer. The room swirls into a bunch of colors as the ache in my belly
intensifies. I need something. Anything. Well, not anything. Sexually driven
doesn’t mean easy.
Knight hugs me back, his lips pressing to my temple. “Someone’s a
cuddler, is she? I like to cuddle too. It makes it so easy to slide back in. Do
you want me to slide in you? I could do it right here if you want.” I don’t
even bother to catch his words, unable to hear them as I grind myself
against him.
Suddenly, a second set of hands find my hips and my lungs expand as I
peek over my shoulder, finding we’ve rotated around the fire, and the blue-
eyed boy who was behind it is still there, sitting, his hands larger than his
brother’s, fingers sprawling along my ribs.
“This is Legend,” Knight whispers, urging me backward.
Legend’s name is perfection. He is quite legendary, somehow even
hotter up close, like a giant, muscular teddy bear I want to bury myself in.
He leans back farther, his jean covered thighs falling open as he gently
eases me down on his lap, the slight dip of his chin all the encouragement I
need to allow him to put me where he wants me. His zipper scratches
against my bare ass, but I drive myself deeper into it, desperate for the
friction. My hands cling to Knight, though my eyes have yet to leave his
brother’s.
“Look at him,” he demands, hands skating down my sides until they’re
framing my outer thighs. “Go on…”
 I do as I’m told, facing Knight fully, right as that wicked tongue of his
comes out to play along his lips.
A low whimper escapes me before I can stop it, and I rub my legs
together, but Knight tsks his tongue at the move, and Legend’s palms press
lower, forcing me to stop.
“Patience, Little L. I have every intention of taking care of you.” A
devilish grin pulls at his lips, and it looks so good on him, different from the
sneer he’s pointed at me the last few times I’ve seen him. Whatever he has
taken, he needs to more often. He’s different tonight.
“I’m not a patient girl. I want what I want when I want it.”
Legend’s lips find my ear once more. “Don’t go gettin’ yourself
punished, trouble.”
I lean farther into his chest, my eyes closing without permission. “I like
a good punishment now and then. It’s good for my black soul.”
Knight chuckles. “I like you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
At that, both boys laugh as if sharing some secret that I’m not privy to. I
don’t have it in me to care as Legend’s monstrous fingers widen, sliding
deeper into the crease of my thighs and slowly stretching out to my inner
knees. He lifts my legs, spreading them so they hang over his, the underside
of my knees hooked over his own. I might as well be in a sitting sling, my
thong-covered goods displayed in offering.
And fuck me, my lungs seize up when the object of last night’s fantasy
drops to his knees in front of me. He shuffles closer, and I dig my nails into
Legend’s thighs, unaware of when I moved them there, but his low rumble
against my back tells me he doesn’t mind. He likes the bite of my nails,
proof is in the way he presses me closer to his chest, his tongue finding the
lobe of my ear, flicking and teasing against it.
Knight’s fingers skate along my skin, a knuckle the first part of him to
meet my center, and the blue of his eyes deepens as he keeps them locked
with mine. His teeth sink into his lower lip as one finger slips beyond the
thin material, and I sigh in relief at the contact, bucking into his hand. He
grins, a second finger joining in on the fun.
“So fucking ready for my cock, aren’t you, Little L?” he speaks against
my lips, evading the kiss at the last second. “You’re already dripping wet.”
I pout, and Legend’s heady laugh sends shivers over my skin.
Knight doesn’t press his lips to mine, but my bratty pout quickly grows
into a moan as Knight sucks at the center of my throat, his tongue dragging
across as teeth nip at the space there. My back arches as his fingers thrust
inside me.
“Yes,” I cry out, shamelessly riding his hand. We’re tucked away in the
corner of the party. My eyes come to the hot flames of the fire in front of us
as my cheeks burn to life. Someone is likely watching. I can almost feel the
wrath of their eyes skinning me alive as seconds pass, but I don’t care. The
fact that people around us are watching has my claws digging into Knight’s
shoulders, a sense of possessiveness falling over me. I want them to watch.
To see what he’s doing to me.
“More,” I rasp.
Legend’s lips find the other side of my neck, skimming, but not kissing,
teeth scraping, but not biting, and I wish he’d fucking bite already.
“Careful what you wish for, trouble. My bite isn’t at all what you’re
used to,” he whispers darkly.
“Prove it,” I beg, completely gone to the moment.
Legend growls low in his throat, grips my chin and yanks my head
toward his. He takes my lips, tasting the seam. His hot breath rolls over my
sensitive flesh, and for the shortest of seconds, his velvet tongue slides
against mine, almost as if he didn’t mean to but couldn’t help it. His eyes
close then, and he sucks my lower lip between his own until I whimper
from a shot of pain that only intensifies the ache between my legs.
 I gasp as he pulls away, his smirk dark and daring as his hands slide up
under my dress.
“Kiss her,” he commands, his tone more urgent than before. “He’s
coming.”
I don’t know who ‘he’ is and I figure Knight would tell him to fuck off,
but no. Shockingly, he listens like a good fucking boy, his pillowy lips
smashing to mine as his fingers hook inside me. He curls them forward and
forces my mouth open on a gasp. Knight takes full advantage of the
opening, his tongue thrusting at the same speed as his fingers, drawing out
every moan and whimper with satisfied groans of his own.
He licks and sucks and flicks me with his tongue, the kiss more playful
than intense, but it’s still so good, a vast contrast to yesterday’s. When he
starts circling my clit with his thumb, my legs turn to jelly. My head turns,
as Legend offers me the space in his giant neck, so I bury my face, moaning
into him as my orgasm crests, and just before it ripples through me, Knight
yanks himself away abruptly.
I jerk, trying to look his way at the sound of Knight’s breathless
chuckle, but Legend’s hand comes up, holding my head where it is. Exactly
two seconds later, I’m torn from him altogether, dragged onto wobbly legs.
The air is forced from my lungs when I’m slammed into the side of the
house. I barely have time to register Knight’s deep sneer before his mouth is
crushing against mine, his fingers jamming into my pussy with vicious
intent and harsh strokes. He’s ruthless and relentless and it’s fucking
perfect.
I don’t know what just happened there, but it needs to happen again
because this is what I want.
No, this is what I fucking need.
His rough touch is a complete contrast to what he was serving me
moments before, yet somehow, it’s as though it was created just for me. His
kiss is demanding as his tongue takes mine like it owns it. I think he might.
 So close, my body burns as my orgasm tears through me, sparking every
nerve and stealing my vision. The party turns into a smudge of color as my
heart pounds so hard in my chest my ribs rattle.
He slows his kiss, dragging his tongue over the edge of my lips. It’s
intoxicating. I’m like a greedy bitch taking everything he’s giving me. I
want this. Every single fucking night. Suddenly, a sharp pain sears through
me and I jerk my head away with a low shriek.
My fingers fly to my lips, coming up with drops of blood. “You bit—”
My words die in my throat when an animalistic sound tears from deep
within his chest and my fingers disappear between his lips.
My toes curl in my pumps, my body quaking all over again, and then
his eyes flash up to mine and my lungs cease.
His eyes…. the blue is gone. Not a hint of it is left. No, they shine a
stark, crystally white, and as he releases me, he bares his teeth, pressing
firmer into my body. It’s fucking terrifying and beautiful and so strange I
can’t look away.
He dips, swiftly lifting me from the ground and my legs wrap around
him.
He opens his mouth to speak, but a deafening explosion tears through
the air so loud my ears bleed.
Knight blinks, and the sharpened teeth and all white orbs are gone.
Anger washes over his face and he drops me where we stand as flames
burn high into the dark sky and people begin to rush away.
Knight doesn’t spare me another glance, taking off in the same
direction. As soon as he’s gone, I feel the absence of his touch. He’s like a
toxic concoction of every poison created, and I’m pretty sure I’d shoot that
shit back happily. Straight into my fucking veins.
I want to be pissy that he’s run off again, this time more annoying than
the last because I let him have me. Not completely, but more than I’d given
him the last time.
 But I got what I wanted, the proof dripping down my thighs as we
speak.
So fuck it. For the first time in my life, I feel slightly satisfied, and from
nothing but three strong fingers working me into mush.
And because of that, I call tonight a win.
 Twelve

K night

I ,
agitation set deep in my bones. Fucking Fae and their dramatic bullshit.
This was for sure going to land on us because the council just loves having
shit to blame on my brothers and me, even though the school has had issues
for generations before we came along.
“Aye!” I press my fingers into my mouth and let out a loud whistle.
“Get the fuck back!” Two larger set Faeries are facing each other, with a
younger girl on the ground, bleeding glitter down her face. The music is
still playing loudly in the background, but the smoke from the fire one of
these idiots directed at the house is thickening the more time passes.
The Fae near the girl swipes at his face and I watch as the flesh on his
cheek melts away slightly. “She said no.”
My head swings back to the other, who has longer blonde hair that curls
around the nape of his neck. “Can one of you idiots tell me why I should
give a fuck, and why the fuck you would risk ruffling the Ministry’s
feathers?”
 “It’s fine,” the smaller girl says, pushing up from the ground and sliding
her hands down her short skirt. She waves her palm up and an opal-colored
ring bursts in front of her, circling with soft pinks and baby blue hues. “I
probably asked for it.”
I don’t know who the girl is, or the other two Fae, but right now, they’re
on my fucking shit list. This could signal to the council that we’re fucking
with high-capacity magic. All the boring shit—fine. But throwing around
fucking electrokinesis, or any other mind and elemental fuckery, is bound to
tip them all off.
Legend taps my shoulder with his and I bare my teeth slightly, anger
rippling through my veins like vines of fire.
He steps back, hands up. “Whoa! What the fuck is with you?”
My mouth slams closed. I’m being obvious, and I don’t even know what
is with me or why I’m on edge. “Nothing. Get this cleaned up before the
Ministry smells smoke. Literally.” I turn back to see where the girl is, but
she has already stepped through the portal, and before I can tell her to stop,
it’s snapped closed and disappears.
I need to get the fuck out of here before I kill someone. Today’s practice
and drills did nothing to settle my mind. If anything, I’m even more pent
the fuck up.
It’s fucking annoying being a Lord sometimes. We’re always stuck
cleaning up other people’s dumb decisions just to protect ourselves from
bullshit we shouldn’t have to. It’s either rope in the fucking idiots around us
or face the wrath of our parents after they’re forced to sit through a meeting
with the Ministry, listening to them speak about the concerns they have for
the ‘Deveraux Lords and their inability to acclimate to the human world’.
We’re not incapable of anything.
We just don’t fucking want to.
It’s all a bunch of bullshit. We should never have to hide or hold back
our fucking gifts. Our parents agree, but we were told to stay under the
radar, and our parents don’t give orders for the fuck of it. There is always a
reason, one we trust in.
Snatching a discarded bottle of whiskey near the steps, I shove through
the crowd and make my way to the front of the house, desperate to get the
fuck away.
Away from my brothers.
Away from her.
I’m about to hit the footpath and pull up a portal to take me back to my
room when someone catches my arm.
I pause, turning over my shoulder to see Alex blinking up at me with
doe eyes. “Where are you going? The night is early.”
“I’m bored.” I glare at her, raising the bottle to my mouth and taking a
long sip. I hiss through the burn in my throat. “And I fucking hate basic
parties.” I shove myself out of her touch.
“Then let’s take it back to the lair.” Her finger comes to my chest,
dragging a perfect white fingernail down.
I look between her and the movement. “Alex, if you don’t take your
finger off me, I’m going to fucking cut it off.”
Alex shrugs, just as movement catches my eyes over her shoulder and I
raise my head up to see Creed, Legend, Silver, and Sinner standing there
with their toys for the night. Basic. Every single one of them.
“I think the girl is right, Knight.” Legend winks at me, clicking his
fingers together as a large gold orb materializes in front of me. Mirror-like
water stirs in the center and I feel the taste of magic in the back of my
throat. “Think it’s time.” I watch as Legend and his toy are swallowed by
the portal before the rest of them step through until it’s Creed and I left
standing.
“We can talk about this tomorrow,” Creed murmurs, but I don’t give a
fuck what he’s saying because I catch white hair shift out of the masses of
people, with her little best friend. Cassandra Oakley is tucked under his
arm, flashing a deep-set dimple smile.
Huh. Ben has game. Who would have thought? Not that Cassandra is a
hard lay. She isn’t.
“Don’t even think about it,” Creed warns, and I tilt my head to the side,
watching as hers tips back as she catches her laughter.
“It could be fun. Playing with a little human, I mean,” I tease,
sidestepping Creed. I hardly ever tease. I leave the games to Sinner and
Legend since they’re always filling their time with boring shit. Sex and
chaos are our kinds’ thing, unless you’re Sin and Legend, who like to
dabble with other hobbies to keep them occupied.
His hand comes to my chest. “If you do this, you can’t take it back.
How will you explain everything she’s going to see?”
“What? I’ll—” I wave my hand around the place. “—do all that magic
shit.” I pin him with a glare. “You mean to tell me that you don’t think she’s
one of the hottest human girls you’ve ever seen? And the way she came
undone…”
Creed’s lip twitches, but he doesn’t give anything away. Less than what
I thought he would.
“I’m not asking for permission.” I make that shit clear, watching as
London takes a shot of Fae dust—that she shouldn’t have been able to see,
but figuring out who gave it to her is an issue for another day—and hands it
down the line to her friends. “And besides, the girl is fucking wasted.”
I shove Creed out of the way, and just as she and her little posse are
about to walk the opposite direction down the road, I drop the seal that was
hiding us and reach for her hand. On impact, my palm ignites into flames,
and she turns slowly, her eyes coming to mine.
“Knight?”
I ignore the idiots she surrounds herself with. “You’re coming with
me.”
 “But my friends.” She gestures to them, and before I can give her time
to say no, I pull her in closer. She can’t see the portal, she’s not made of
magic, but if she did, I’d be able to blame it on the Fae juice she’s been
sucking on like a fucking calf does its mother’s tit.
“Knight—” Her voice is cut short when I cover her mouth with my hand
and step us both through the murky water. She stops fighting when gravity
gives way and our bodies turn upside down. An eruption of colors rains
down around us as her little body goes limp. I hear the loud crack vibrate
behind me as the portal closes and we continue to swim through time.
Either Creed threw her crew in too—which knowing him he would—or he
shut it down and is playing mind games with Ben.
A bright light mirrors back at us from deep in the tunnel, and as seconds
fly past us, that same circle gets bigger and bigger. The landing is rough,
especially if you don’t know how to do it, which London won’t. Aside from
that too, she’s also human. It will kill her on impact. It should. I should just
let her splatter and be done with it.
A sharp pain stabs at my chest at the thought and I grit my teeth,
ignoring that bitch.
I intensify my grip around her mouth and flip us around, so I land first
to stop the blow. Crack! The back of my skull cracks on collision and death
crawls its long fingers over the sides of my cheek for a second before
receding.
London doesn’t move in my grip, and when I see Creed jump through
the portal and it slam shut behind him, I don’t know if I’m relieved he
didn’t shove someone like Ben down with him, or panicked? Angry? I don’t
care. Having her beneath my grip is everything I want. I want to tear
through her mind to see what goes on inside there. Maybe she could tell me
why I’m so fucking obsessed with her. Or maybe I should just punish her.
I shove her off me and she rolls to the side, sucking in a deep breath.
 The Weeknd sounds through the dark room, with little bubbles of light
floating above our heads, giving just enough to show what you want to see.
Creed stares blankly at her before coming back to me. “I hope you
know what you’re doing.”
Yeah, fuck. Me too.
He makes his way to the floating bar in the corner of the room, where
cobblestones unfold onto the back wall, displaying every poison you’d ever
want. Fae dust, Cupid’s capsules, dragon ash, and pixie plants grown from
earth pixies. That shit will knock you right out, and all of this isn’t allowed
earthbound. If humans get their hands on this shit, it risks exposure. Not
that the government doesn’t already know. Pretty sure there’s a whole file
for us in the Pentagon—not that they would ever admit it. Humans like to
hide behind their narcissism. There can’t possibly be any other beings
except for them. In our defense, and others that are living out there, it
works. We love that they’re fucking stupid. Makes it easy for us to hide.
“Jesus fuck!” London pushes herself up from the ground, her blonde
hair falling over her slender back. “I feel sick.”
“Hey!” Kaia, an earth Pixie, kneels down to her level, looking between
London and me. “I’m Kaia. Smoke this. It’ll help.”
London takes the rolled up blunt from her and brings it to her lips. “I
think I’m tripping majorly. I have no idea what’s happening.”
Kaia’s eyes narrow on her before she gives her a hand to help her to her
feet. “Smoke. It’ll level you out from all the…err…coke?”
I step backward and away from London, needing space. I don’t know
what the fuck I was thinking bringing her through the portal. The fucking
chick has me doing shit I would never do. The longer I think about it, the
angrier I get. Something is off about this.
Wrong.
“Knight.” London’s voice stops me just as I’m about to step away from
them both.
 I swear, if she says my name one more time, I’m gonna strangle her.
Kaia looks between her and me, wide-eyed. I imagine she can’t figure
out why I just threw a human down a portal, or why said human is even
allowed to address me with the tone London is using when not even the
Gifted get away with that.
“Shut up, London. Follow Kaia.” Her mouth opens, but before she can
say anything, I walk away from them both, moving to where Silver is
perched on one of the leather sofas. The Dragon’s Lair is just that—a
dragon’s lair. Run and owned by Stygian, this place isn’t for the weak. Alex
pretends like she can handle it on the best of times, but we all know she
can’t. She’s the spawn of a Stygian and a fucking Argent, and while she
hopes and pretends otherwise, I’m pretty fucking sure she’ll test Argent
when the trials begin. A strong one, but an Argent, nonetheless. Not that
they’re weak, because they’re not. They have their strengths just like we do,
but their weakness is always their weakness, and that’s their heart. They
care too much about everything. It’s pathetic.
It’s like my mother says, ‘If you find something you can’t cut at the
throat at a moment’s notice and take pleasure in the picture their blood
paints at your feet, take some Devil’s Drop and end yourself, ’cause you’re
fucked either way.’
“What are you doing with that?” Silver asks, toking on the rolled blunt.
I trace the black smoke as it leaves his mouth in rings as I take it from
him, leaning back in the chair and spreading my legs wide.
“I don’t know. Kind of making it up as I go along.”
“Fucking idiot.” He bangs on his chest to help his cough.
I hand the joint back to Silver and watch as London lowers herself down
onto one of the stools near the bar. She isn’t questioning the shit she’s
seeing, or maybe she is. It’s hard not to in Dragon’s Lair, especially when
she’s staring at the being behind the bar, his face nothing but a black mask,
pupils as red as the scales of the beast who lurks in this lair.
 “You bored?” I ask Silver, swiping my lower lip with my thumb.
“Because I’ve got an idea.”
“An idea, huh? ” He raises a brow, too aware of what that line from me
might mean.
I say nothing, and we stare her way for several silent seconds.
“What’s your beef with this girl?” Silver asks quietly, almost like he’s
got a read on her he’s yet to share. I fucking doubt he has shit. Silver is
good, but he ain’t that good. Just because he was raised with us doesn’t
make him one of us—not any more than the superficial shit anyway.
He does come from a powerful family, a loyal one—we wouldn’t have
pulled him into our group if he wasn’t—and I’m not talking about the
pureness of his bloodline. I’m talking about the loyalty they’ve shown the
kings of darkness.
He shifts forward to lean his elbows on his knees, both our attention
locked on London and Kaia. They’re talking, and Kaia is doing that thing
she does when she’s interested in someone. This doesn’t happen often. Kaia
hates everyone. Always the recluse of the class, she distances herself just
enough away so she never has to deal with anyone’s bullshit, but her plants?
Nothing like I’ve smoked before.
“I don’t have a beef.” I have an annoying obsession.
It’s quieter tonight, with only those of us who slid through the portal
and the regulars. The outcasts, I guess you could say. There’s a dragon
shifter dancing on the pole in the corner of the space, in human form except
her eyes. They flash a brilliant gold when she finds me. Opposite her are
three women and one Lycan in a split shift, leaving himself with the human
body parts he needs to party, but his animal is right there with him. I watch
as one of the girls bends in front of him when his half human paws grip her
around her hair, forcing her head back. She screams in euphoria as he enters
her from behind, running his claws down the center of her back. Her flesh
splits open near the spine, and blood drips to the ground, turning to steam
when it hits the hot rocks below. The other two women play with each other
within arm’s reach of him, enough to keep each other entertained.
He toys with her throat as he takes her roughly from behind, and when
he leans down, he swiftly pulls out of her pussy. With one long stroke of his
tongue, he licks her back clean, the fresh wound nowhere to be found.
Red stains his mouth, and he yanks her head, claiming her lips and
feeding her her own fuel as he slams back inside her.
My mouth waters and I reach for the drink on the table—finally a real
fucking party.
Lava swims beneath our feet between the hot rocks, and if it wasn’t for
my protecting London, she would have burned to a crisp as soon as she
landed here through the portal. I swallow the whole bottle in one go, and
Silver chuckles, gesturing to an Ordinary to bring us another drink.
“Two more.”
My knee jiggles and a hand comes to my chest, sharp red nails in view.
I’m agitated. I can feel myself build as seconds pass. It shouldn’t bother me.
She shouldn’t bother me. But even as I watch her from across the room, her
in my world, I don’t want to send her back.
I kind of want to keep her, like I would a toy that I could play with
anytime I wanted.
Still might. Haven’t decided.
“I recognize that look,” the girl purrs from behind, and I know it’s not
Alex. Alex would have dipped out as soon as she saw the shifter fucking the
Fae. Alex is prissy as fuck and pretends like she can handle shit on this side.
It’s Helena, a good fuck who likes the feel of fire over her body any time
she’s about to orgasm.
My hand flies out to stop Helena, as an idea flashes in my head.
“Not me tonight.” I press my finger into my mouth, blowing out a loud
whistle. Like a good pet, London’s whole body stills, her drink mid-air.
Interesting that she knew it was me and that call was for her.
 “London, c’mere.” The music continues and no one bats an eye. Using
their own magic, they’ve all quite clearly blocked out whatever is
happening around them so they can do what they came here to do.
Fuck and kill. The killing is, well, not the kind you’d find yourself hung
for.
Slowly, her little body turns in her chair until her eyes are on mine. I
don’t miss the way they flicker over my shoulder to Helena, but she collects
herself and straightens her shoulders when she comes back to me.
My top lip curls. It’s cute, little one, that you think you can pretend with
me.
Her eyes widen, as if she’s in shock, but she shakes her head and
brushes whatever it is that bothered her off.
I nod to Kaia and she glares at me. Kaia hardly does as she’s told, but
she’s learning.
She rolls her eyes and gestures over to where Silver and I are seated.
Legend jumps over the sofa to the side, pulling Helena onto his lap instead.
He clearly picks up my animosity. I don’t bother asking where Creed and
Sin are as London finally makes her way to us.
She stops in front of the sofa, looking between it and me. Tucking her
hair behind her ear, she finally lowers herself down, her eyes blinking past
whatever it is that’s going on inside her head. Dammit. Where the fuck is
Creed when you need him?
She spots Legend now. He gives her a small smirk, probably
remembering what she felt like right before she came. The thought has my
blood boiling so hot that my fucking fingers burn.
She gives me her full attention once more. “What, Knight? You gonna
explain why this is the wildest dream I’ve ever had.” She thinks she’s
dreaming.
Perfect.
 I flash her a full-tooth smile. That’s exactly what I plan to do, and it just
so happens that oneirokinesis is my favorite fuck around. Let’s see how far
I can push her when her eyes close at night. The perfect way to fuck with
someone is through dream manipulation. She’s not going to know what’s
real and what isn’t. I don’t need to stalk her in real life, because I can step
through the doorway to her dreams any. Time. I. Want.
But first…
I tilt my head, scanning her up and down. From her high cheekbones to
the natural swell of her lips. There’s just no way a human is this fucking
hot.
“Helena,” I call out, but keep my eyes on London’s. Her ice blue to my
turquoise. “Kiss London.”
London’s brows hit her hairline, her hands flying to the sides of her
chair. I follow the sharp line of her jaw, all the way to the vein on her neck,
and watch as it flutters against her smooth flesh. My mouth waters, and I
hold down a growl, grinding my teeth. I don’t just want to taste her; I want
to own her. I’d eat her fucking whole and wouldn’t bat an eye as I did it, but
that isn’t what this is. I want to savor her. I’m not fucking Creed. I don’t
enjoy the feast more than I need the hunt.
I inhale as Helena’s heels slap against the stone when she moves to
where London is seated. The heady scent of candy drifts up my nose. Fear.
Goosebumps prickle over my skin. London’s eyes flash with determination,
the corner of her mouth twitching a little.
She’s going to play?
Just like that, without a fight?
I lean back in my chair, allowing my bottle to dangle between my
fingers as Helena’s fingers wrap around London’s pointed chin, forcing her
face up. It does nothing to turn me on, it’s merely a test to myself.
Helena lowers her blood orange lips to London’s, and just as they touch,
that same sizzling fire erupts through my veins. I grip the bottle tightly,
forcing myself to watch. I’ve fucked a lot over the years. We all have. We
hold no sentiment or possession over who we fuck. We’re not human.
There’s no such thing as monogamous here, not at least until you find your
mate. Which I’ll never find because I’ll never be looking.
I bring the bottle to my mouth to hide my scowl as London’s lips open
on Helena’s. Helena’s hands slide down the front of London’s shirt. London
parts her legs slightly, moving down farther in her chair as if to break the
kiss with Helena, but Helena wasn’t told to stop, so the mage lowers with
her.
“Goddamn,” Legend whispers, kicking my foot. “You gonna join in on
that, or am I? Because I’m dying to properly taste her.”
The taste of cinnamon fills my mouth as my teeth sink into my cheek,
everything inside of me is fighting against what I’m seeing, but I am the
one in control. Me.
So I clench my jaw to keep my mouth closed and I spread my knees
wider. Helena spots the move from the corner of her eye.
She knows what to do without instruction, and eases London up, her
heels hovering above the ground as she’s levitated, likely without her
knowledge until she’s coming down on my lap. That she feels and her little
gasp goes straight to my cock, so I flex it against her ass, and her fingers
press into my jeans, freeing her lips from the stranger they were pressed to.
Her brows crinkle with confusion as she looks from my lap to her chair,
and then me. “What—”
Without looking, I grip Silver by the collar, and he leans over, his palm
sliding along London’s cheek. When a shiver runs through her, my eyes
narrow, and I start to tug her back. To push him away.
My fingers ache, ready to sharpen and tear away what’s mine.
To play with, I mean.
No.
I love to share.
 I’m sharing.
Her eyes meet Silver’s, and his swirl as his mouth hooks up, body
pressing closer to hers as he shifts beside me.
Her long white hair teases the skin of my arm, so I wrap my fist around
it, forcing myself to stare as my best friend’s mouth meets hers.
Her chest lifts, gaze secretly seeking mine from the side as if to make
sure this is okay. That this is what I want.
Does she want it?
Anger floods my veins.
Fuck what she wants.
I am in charge here. Fuck do I care what this Giftless girl wants?
I don’t.
Her lips meet his, their mouths opening and Silver’s tongue slides—
A loud explosion shakes the foundation we stand on and flames ignite
around the space.
I fall to the ground and move through the broken glass and smoke,
crawling to where London landed near my feet. I find her ankles through
the smoke and shove her down onto the floor as balls of fire fly through the
space. Yelling and sounds of a dragon’s screaming pierce my ears as
London’s eyes come to mine when I get her to the ground. She coughs, and
seconds pass. None of the bullshit going on around us matters. I hear Creed
yelling, Legend trying to pull me up from the ground, and Helena’s
screams, but I don’t fucking care. Trapped in a trance with the girl below
me, I ignore the chaos around us and the heavy scent of magic.
“Am I dead?” she whispers, snapping me out of my daze.
“Come on.” I pull her up by her arm while keeping us low. The smoke
is thick enough for us to cut ninety-five percent of our vision, but I click my
fingers in a circle and a portal materializes. Without thinking twice, I step
through with her before closing it instantly. The same happens again, only
now she knows what to expect. Her little arms and legs wrap around my
body. Almost like she trusts me. But she fucking shouldn’t. The white light
pops up, and this time, I grip her tightly around her back, holding her up
with one hand and landing on my feet in her room. As soon as I’ve shut the
portal, the chaos of whatever has erupted on our side is gone and the peace
of mundane humanity takes its place. London’s body is limp in my hands,
but I can feel her organ that beats within her pulsing against my chest.
My own heart squeezes in my chest as I slowly lower her down onto her
bed, pulling her covers back. She looks like shit, pale and freckled with
soot. I drag the sheets up and cover her body, calling on Hydro to clean her
and her clothes from the night before. She’ll wake up and think it was all a
dream. That’s what I wanted, right?
I step backward, watching as the blanket rises and falls as she takes
every breath. The back of my legs hit a dresser and I turn, my eyes coming
to a small jewelry box. The symbol engraved on the top catches me off
guard. A triangle and a single line running vertically through it. What?
Where have I seen this? Who—I flip it open, holding my breath. Nothing.
It’s empty.
Turning back around, I lower myself onto the chair pushed into the
corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. I know I should leave, that my
brothers could be hurt. Everyone could be hurt. But I can’t move. Frozen in
place, I can’t move past this.
Her.
In this moment, nothing and no one else fucking matters.
 Thirteen

L ondon

I ’ . M . I
open, puncture it. I try to suck in another deep breath, but the air is thick.
My eyes pop open and I’m back on that same bridge, staring up at the dark
night sky. This time feels different. This time I’m sure I’m going to die.
My eyes flutter closed, finally at peace. I’m ready to go… just take me…
the hooded man can take me. I’ll even wait for him right here, on my back,
at his mercy. I squeeze my eyes closed, praying to the gods. Praying to
whom? What gods? Frustrated, I open my eyes again, and this time snow
falls from the sky, a flake touching the tip of my nose.
I push myself up from the ground, ignoring the gravel that punctures my
palms. “What?”
Laughter cackles out from behind me, and I quickly spin around to find
it, only being met with nothing but the thick green bush hidden behind the
snowy paddock. Curls are twisted in the snow, so I force myself back up to
shaky feet, ignoring the way the cold weather leaves a dusting of frost down
my spine.
 There, staring back at me, are a triangle and line, scribbled through the
snow. I knew that—did I? I think…
Dark smoke puffs from the trees, and a loud scream tears from my throat
as the hooded figure flies straight to me, his arms wide like a bat.
I shoot up from my bed, sweat rolling off my temples as I finally suck
down oxygen I so desperately needed moments ago. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I reach for the bedside drawer, finding my phone on the charger . Well, at
least through my drunken stupor, I managed to do that . It’s ten a.m. I never
sleep past six, and if I was as wasted as I’m almost certain I was last night,
why do I not feel hungover?
I open the first text from Ben.
Ben: I left to get breakfast without you since you didn’t wake. Tell
me… how’d the dick down with Knight go?
I groan, falling back down. I remember everything from last night—up
until we were leaving for the party. Wait. No.
I shoot up from my bed again. Yes. I try to search my memories. I
remember the party and the fun, cosplay Fae shit…coke maybe, and
Molly…and whatever else I took. I was popping and drinking and inhaling
shit left and right, anything to wash away the boredom of day-to-day and
offer me something new.
Massaging my temples, I start to pray. “God. I promise I will never
drink again if you just tell me all the stupid things I did last night.” Kicking
off my bed sheets, I quickly use the restroom, grab my shower caddy, and I
hit dial on Ben’s contact.
“You did good, princess.” He answers on the first ring.
“Shut up.” I drag my feet, refusing to look at anyone as I make my way
to the showers. “What happened with you last night? What was her name?”
“Cassandra, and I’m just fine, thank you.”
“Just fine as in you got your dick wet, or just fine you got your dick wet
and got her number?”
 “Option one. I’m not in need of a number at the moment.”
“Atta boy.” I chuckle, pushing into the girls’ shower, my shoulders
falling in relief when the only other person inside is packing up as I’m
setting my things down. “So you never did say what happened with you and
the Barbie girl you went there to meet that led you to this Cassandra…or
did you, and I was just too fucked up to remember?” I strip out of…what
the hell am I wearing? I wedge the phone between my ear and my shoulder,
pulling on the bottom of the black T-shirt to get a better view.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, confused by the foreign design on the front.
“I said she went for a drink and I lost her.”
Oh, right, Ben was talking. “Lost and then found Cassandra?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He laughs.
I nod, only half listening as I quickly swap to speaker and set my phone
on the sink, tearing the shirt over my head and holding it out in front of me.
“Hey, do you have a black Philipp Plein shirt?”
“Huh?” Ben shuffles in the background, and I set the shirt down. “Hell
no. I can’t fuck with that expensive shit.”
Maybe I grabbed it from someone last night? Maybe it is Ben’s and he
just can’t remember right now among his bullshit.
“So how about you, has your dry spell since Trevor officially ended?”
Has it?
I must pause too long as Ben’s laugh echoes around the bathroom,
giving me away. I have no idea if I had my favorite kind of fun last night or
not.
“Asshole.” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m taking a shower, then I have
a shift with the shop. By the way, did you see Jus at all after we got there? I
sort of forgot he was the one who invited us and did my own thing.”
Visions flash before my eyes. Images of Knight and how he urged me
onto another guy’s lap so he could use his hands to drive me mad.
 How he was so playful and almost cutesy and then a switch flipped and
suddenly he was…fucking broody. Uncontrollable and pure destruction. He
was a hungry wolf and I was his prey, the fucked-up kind who wanted to be
caught.
He’s like a fucking Harry Houdini popping up and disappearing at
random. Even in my damn mind.
“Nope, but tell him when you see him, I might kick his ass for leaving
us to walk our asses home.”
“You walked home?” I gape.
“No, we called an Uber about a half mile down the road, but he doesn’t
know that.”
“Love you, bye!” Shaking my head, I hang up with a smile on my face
and turn on the water, feeling it to make sure it’s warm enough before I step
inside. Fucking boys.
Did I fuck any boy last night, and yeah…plural, ’cause hello, Legend?
I reach between my legs, but I’m not sore, and surely I would be if
Knight were between them, right? Everything about him screams animal.
Bet he even growls like one too.
There’s no doubt in my mind he would rival a god when he comes, that
long corded neck and sharp angles of his jaw tensing and stretching. I can
see it now, the way his face would draw tight, those full lips of his parting,
if only so he could sink his teeth into his lower one.
At the thought, my fingers fly to my own bottom lip, and I wince at the
tiny hint of broken skin there. That’s right. He bit me, and I think he sucked
the spot he pierced, lapping at the blood.
And his eyes! They…changed. Didn’t they?
Fuck me, I need to lay off the sauce next time I see him so I can really
get a feel for what he’s about. My senses have yet to steer me wrong in life,
but they’ve been clouded nearly every time I’ve been around him.
 Not that I’ll see him again for sure, and I most likely won’t if we did get
down and dirty last night. He seems like the pussy testing type. You know,
the kind of guy who can have any shape and size he wants, so he gives them
all a good test drive until he finds the one who fits best.
I might pout if I find out we did fuck and I don’t even remember it, but
then again, if a guy like that is capable of being forgotten after few rounds
in the sheets, then I don’t want to remember it at all.
It will ruin the perfect perception I have of him, and that is that Knight,
whatever his last name is, fucks like a demon. And I for one, am dying to
take him by the horns.
I make quick work of getting ready, choosing a fresh pair of leggings
and a long-sleeved black top that cuts off just below my bra line. Yes, it’s
still warm in late September, but the shop is fucking freezing and I’d rather
not walk around with hard nipples all day.
I put my hair in two French braids, and after a quick wing and some
pink tinted gloss, I’m out the door.
I’ll never understand why people choose to spend time here. University.
Even the most successful people aren’t measured by the degree they hold.
It’s like a scam for our age group, with this false sense of accomplishment if
you complete it. It’s a load of bull. I think it has more to do with parents
than it does with us.
I glare at the boring brick buildings, half faded from the sun and the rest
splattered with pigeon shit just waiting for the winter rain to wash it away.
The windows are standard with cream-colored drapes, some stained an ugly
sort of yellow from too much exposure to the light. There is a pretty
fountain in the center of the common area, but the water smells like
chlorine and the flowers surrounding it died two weeks into the semester, so
it’s not all that nice to look at anymore.
If I didn’t have my job at the crystal shop, I would lose my fucking
mind. The only reason I tolerate school is so I can be with Ben. Last year
was really rough without him and I don’t want to do that again, so I’ll suck
it up and do my best not to tank all my classes and lose the scholarship I
never should have gotten but somehow did…even when I didn’t apply for
it. The financial aid lady said I have to keep a C average to hang in there,
and even though I do try to pay attention, I’m barely making it right now.
I’m just uninterested.
Maybe I’m meant to be one of those people who travels the country
living in a chic little van with fairy lights and a giant beanbag for a bed,
making a living off…whatever the hell those people do. I just can’t see
myself content with a future full of mandated meetings and strict schedules.
I need more than a nine-to-five.
I need more in general.
Shoving the door to the mini café open, I slip into the line. It’s not until
I’ve placed my order and stopped to the side that I kick myself in the ass for
not scoping out the place before walking in. The second the barista calls my
name, he looks over and jumps from his seat to follow me out the door, all
while I pretend I don’t hear or see him.
“London!” he shouts. “Hey, Lon, wait up!”
I don’t ‘wait up,’ but he does catch up and I have the sudden urge to
bang my head against concrete.
His hand meets my arm and he jerks in front of me, a giant fake smile
on his face. “Hey.”
“Trevor. What’s up?” I take a sip of my iced latte.
“I called a couple times this week. Didn’t hear back from you.” He
shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, I…” I trail off and you know what, no. “Trevor, we broke up.
I’m not really sure why you’re calling me at all.”
His brows snap together as he steps closer. “It’s not like we’re done
forever, London. God, don’t be such a bitch.”
 A scoffed laugh leaves me, and I tug my head back. “We’re not on some
sort of break. Just accept it and let it go already.”
I go to step around him, but he blocks my way.
“Move,” I snap. “I have to get to work and you’re ruining my coffee.”
Trevor slaps the plastic cup from my hands and it hits the ground with a
splat, sending a spray of shit up my legs.
I freeze, blinking at him, but he shoulders past, budging my body. I
stumble slightly as he leaves, and when my gaze follows his retreating
form, a shadow falls over me.
My skin prickles, a shiver starting at the base of my neck and running
down the length of my spine. I quickly spin, eyes flying all around, but no
one is there.
My cheeks heat, but I’m not sure why, so I force my eyes to close and
pull in a lung full of air.
Feeling the slightest bit more settled, I shake my head and face forward.
I’m losing my fucking mind, I swear to god.
I look at my phone seeing it’s too late to go back for another latte, so I
kick the fucking cup and suck it up.
Every stupid step sucks more than the last.
I’m excited to spend my day surrounded by crystals and all the calming
juju the shop brings me, but facing today without coffee might just make
me cry like a bitch.
I’m fucking exhausted.
Hungover.
Confused as shit with the images floating around in my head and
admittedly, a bit concerned with my growing boredom.
Sighing, I push through the door into the crystal shop and curve around
the back counter to sign in for my shift.
Melinda breezes by in a flash of clinking bracelets and smiles at me,
nodding her chin to the space behind me as she disappears around the
corner again. “The moon is in slumber, sweet London. Time to shine,” she
singsongs her usual randomness before disappearing around another corner,
adding, “and some agate beneath your coffee, my dear.”
My brows pull as I shove my bag into the small drawer, and when I
spin, my body jolts.
Sitting there on the top of the old wood…is an iced latte with my name
on it.
 Fourteen

K night

M C ’ , I
his skin splits open and blood sprays on me.
“I don’t know,” I say, swiping the sweat from my face. I don’t like to
train with magic or use it as a way to release energy. The energy I need to
dump is the kind that involves human fucking feelings. Sometimes, I just
need to punch shit. That’s probably the main reason I joined the hockey
team here at Rathe U last year.
Back home, we play with magic, all four of us have since we were old
enough to lace up our own skates. Our kind of hockey—the right kind—is a
fucking blood bath. Perfection.
Here, I’m lucky if I clock someone hard enough to send them after me
for a quick couple punches of fun. But practices? Coach knows we need
that relief and lets us beat the fuck out of each other when necessary.
And for me, that shit’s always necessary.
Creed blocks my neck hook with a simple step, spinning around to put
me in a sleeper hold, only I dip under his arm and shove him away,
bouncing on my toes. “You know what the fuck I’m talking about. Attack
aside—”
“—what do you mean, attack aside?” I raise a brow, jabbing him in the
chin. It’s light, meant as a warning.
“Motherfucker, you’re the one that dipped out.”
I stop bouncing, swiping the sweat from my hands down my basketball
shorts. “Yeah.”
“What’s up with you?” he asks carefully. “I need to get you a pixie to
feed off of or something?”
Feed on. My brows pinch, my nerve endings bursting in my chest at the
memory of London’s blood on my tongue, but it doesn’t feel like a memory.
I can literally taste her now, as if her blood is fresh, dripping and dancing
across my tongue, awakening taste buds that never existed.
Human blood is bitter. It’s basic and a means to an end, an artless
misfortune that helps when it has to or to dip into when you’re bored.
London’s blood is not like that.
It’s like a mature wine that sat barreled in a dark cellar for decades,
growing sweeter with time. It’s thick and savory, like melted maple and a
bit of chestnut. It’s sweet and spicy… and mine.
Heat explodes inside me the moment I think that last word, a deep
growl trapped at the back of my throat, begging to be freed.
The monster inside me is waking. I can feel him simmering beneath the
surface, just … waiting.
“Your eyes are glowing.”
I snap my lids closed, and when they open again, I focus on Creed. I
didn’t even realize my gift came to the surface, but then I feel his pressing
against mine, and my lip curls. “Stay out of my head.”
He eyes me for a long moment, still attempting to get a read on me, but
I keep him out.
 “Mom and Dad asked if anything has changed.” His prying eyes pierce
mine. “Has it?”
I don’t know…has it?
I still don’t want to be here, but I had resigned myself to the fact that I
have no choice pretty quickly into my first semester last year, so why did
the start of this one feel so fucking taxing?
I’m in a constant state of fucked up, angry, then normal and irritated
every second of the fucking day. Mix those with a heavy sense of lacking
something you can’t put a name to, and yeah. It’s no wonder the only
people willing to spar with me now are my brothers and Silver. I’ve been
beating everyone’s face in, to the point the Healers have had to cart them
out of the training room for nearly two months now.
It started a couple weeks before the school year began when we portaled
back to campus to check on things, see what we wanted to add or change
before it became our everyday home again, and it hasn’t fucking left.
Instead, it’s grown, but that sense of lacking has simmered to a low boil
now, and in its place is a sharp needle of need. A needle that pricks deeper
when a certain white-haired doll crosses my mind, and lately, the little thing
has lived in it. The moment I tasted her blood on the trail that day,
something happened.
My veins inflamed, stretching and throbbing. I had to get the fuck away
from her. Poison. That was my first thought, but then I felt this shadow roll
over my shoulders at the party. It dug deep into my bones, tugging until I
was standing before her. I’ve never been conflicted and confused in my
fucking life, and that only pissed me off.
I tore her away, claimed what I wanted, and I had to know if I was
going crazy or not, so I bit her ass.
It wasn’t as bad as the first time, but the heat was still there, and that
incessant stabbing of the needle? It was gone.
 It was gone until I walked out of her house mere minutes before she
woke.
Creed lifts a dark brow and I lift my hands. “No. Nothing has
changed.”
My brother doesn’t say another word. He squares up and we go two
more rounds.

D . I
can’t move. My limbs are paralyzed. My mind buzzes as my eyes fly open
and I’m staring up at the inkiness of the sky. Pluto swirls closer, with Venus
not far behind. There’s no wind. Not a speck of nature flutters against my
skin. I know what is happening. I’m trapped in a trance I have either
created or fallen into unintentionally.
Fire ripples through my veins, leaving a shock wave of adrenaline in its
wake, and I wiggle my fingers. Good. I can move them. Pushing up from the
ground, I pause when I’m looking back at a snowstorm in front of me. Ice
falls down from the dark sky, and I reach up to touch a falling flake,
watching as it melts on the tip of my finger. No blizzard. No wind. But a
snowstorm, silent and swirling around my body like a thief in the night.
I take a step forward, and ice snaps beneath my heavy boot. What the
fuck is this? I’ve dreamed a lot in my years, most of it mundane bullshit that
isn’t important. But this? This feels like a message and I am pretty sure I’d
cut myself open so they could use my blood as ink. The ice goes on and on
for miles. I can’t see anything but verglas. I turn from left to right, looking
for any similarities that I may notice, but there’s nothing. The snow at my
feet. I take another step and blood seeps through the stark white snow until
all I see … is red.
 Flicking the cushion of my thumb over the fang of my tooth, I suck down
the droplet of blood. “What the fuck is happening and why do I think I know
what it is?”

“S !”
move in from the hall. The common room is where we all eat and listen for
updates from our families. Circular tables line the space, where every group
sits, based on their magic. It’s usually separated by Stygians and Argents,
but lately, there has been a shift among the people of our generation. No
one likes the separation anymore. We have light fucking with dark, and dark
fucking with light. One hundred years ago that shit would never fly. I think
over time, we all just gave up. “As I am sure that you have heard, there was
an attack in one of the Dragon’s Lair last night.”
Whispers sound out as I reach forward and pick up the rolled blunt.
Legend chuckles, his thigh hitting mine. “After you.”
I flick my index finger up slightly, calling on my pyrokinesis to spark
the end. I bring it to my lips and inhale. Not that the headmistress will
notice much. The common room is almost as big as two ice rinks, but of
course we just so happen to be seated at the front. The walls are all licked
rust red with ivory-colored trimmings. Oil paintings are encased by iron
carved frames that almost fill every space, and the entire ceiling is made up
of glass to showcase the planets orbiting above.
“The cause is under investigation and not something for you students to
concern yourselves with. Do not allow this to distract you from your pre-
trials this week. We are midway through the first term, so it’s important for
you all to be focused. Your marks will be going against what classes you
will fall into next year, and to all my second years, do not forget your
designation trials begin next term. So again, I stress, do not allow this to
distract you from your responsibilities here at Rathe U.”
Speak directly fucking to us Stygians, why the fuck don’t you? So much
for “coexisting”.
We’ll always be set apart in the back of the minds of the Argents, no
matter how much they pretend differently.
Creed sighs, leaning back in his chair as Sinner tosses a bottle of Fae
dust onto his lap.
“Deverauxs!” the headmistress snaps, and my brothers all shift to look
up at her, except me. I study the blunt carefully, watching as the embers
crackle against the paper. “You are needed in your quarters.”
I push up from my chair and we all make our way out and to the
elevator that takes us to our quarters, which just so happens to be at the very
top of the common room.
“What now, I wonder…” Legend muses as I hit the D and press my
finger to the pad to read my print. “I swear to fucking god, coming here was
a mistake. I’d give anything to be home. On our land. Hunting, playing…”
Legend’s voice is cut short when the elevator doors part open and the first
thing we see is— “Mother.”
Mom smiles at us all tightly. “I need you all to sit down.”
I should be asking why she’s back so soon. Our parents rarely ever
leave Stygian, and it takes something fucking terrible to have them do it.
“What’s up?” I ask, lifting the hem of my shirt before lowering myself
onto the small table in the middle of the lounge area.
Mom takes the sofa opposite, and although she’s talking to all of us, I
can’t ignore the way her eyes keep drifting to me. “I need to ask you all
something and it’s important.”
“Why is it important?” I know my mother. She’s a trickster and knows
exactly how to weaponize her devil-given right. When in conversation with
her, it’s important to note that. Especially when she’s popping in
unannounced—and without our father.
“The Dragon’s Lair. I take it you were all there last night.”
“Yes,” Creed answers for all of us, standing behind the table I’m sitting
on. “Why?”
“Did you notice anything?” Her amber-colored eyes fall on each of us
for a moment, but oh, do they pick me to come to last. She lingers on me
the longest.
“You mean other than the usual shit?” I arch a brow. “No, Mom. That
was most likely dragon drama as usual.”
She tightens her red leather coat, dragging her hands down her raven-
colored hair. “I’m sure. But none of you have noticed anything worth
mentioning?”
“No. Why did you come all the way here to ask us this? Why not send
us a message?”
Mom stands from her chair and my eyes narrow when I notice her
limping to the bar cart near the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her heels slap
against the marble floors and it feels like hours before she finally answers
us.
“Because I’m just being careful.”
“Well!” Legend pushes up from the chair. “This was lame, but thanks
for getting us out of headmistress talking shit. I’ve got to bounce, though.
Got…err…tests to study for.” Legend is gone in a flash and it’s a second
later that Creed and Sinner both dip out too, leaving my mother and me
alone.
“Hmm. You know for immortals, all you boys are sure growing fast.”
She pours herself a finger of whiskey before making her way back to me.
“My Knight.”
My body tenses.
 She slowly takes the spot on the sofa directly opposite, so our knees
almost touch. “You have always been smart. Intuitive. Have you noticed
anything?”
Why the fuck does she keep asking me?
“Why don’t you just step inside my head and see?” I ask, leaning back
slightly. I need distance from her on the best of days, much less when I
know she’s prying. I love my mother, but she’s a serpent.
“Well.” She waves me off, rolling her eyes. “You and I both know you
boys are much stronger than me these days, and you all block me out.”
“What have you seen?” I growl, baiting her to spit out the real reason
why she’s here. Not the disguise she’s using just to be around our energy in
the hopes that it’ll sniff out her visions or trigger them.
“I’m not entirely sure yet.” Her eyelashes flutter. “But it’s not good,
Knight.” She tilts her head back to swallow her drink. “It’s really not good.
My gift, it’s angry.”
“That is nothing new.” My mother’s gift is a fucking nightmare,
sometimes one that claims control over her. Though, I’m not entirely
convinced she doesn’t allow it to do just that when she wants to go on a
fucking killing spree.
Her lips twitch, but the look on her face is far away. “This is different.
Something’s happening, young Lord. Something I can’t see, and if I can’t
see it, I can’t stop it.”
I clench my jaw. “Any ice?”
Her eyes flick to mine. “What have you seen with ice?”
I shrug but make my way to the glass floor-to-ceiling windows, shoving
my hands into my pockets as I take in the activity below. I could tell her the
truth, that I’ve started seeing things in my dreams. I mean, they can’t be as
serious as I think. It’s probably just me coming down from all of the Fae
dust.
 “Snow. Blood. That’s all that I can think of at this moment.” I watch as
people move down below.
“If anything changes, you must let me know, son.”
I nod, slowly turning back to her. “I will,” I promise.
I’m not so sure if that’s true…
 Fifteen

K night

T . . T ’
three hours until I have to report to the rink.
Three a.m.
Where I’m from, that time is a symbol for reckoning, and maybe it’s
true. Who the fuck knows? I keep my breathing quiet and labored as I
watch the blanket on her body rise and fall each time she takes a breath.
What is with you, Little London, and why the fuck do I want to feel you at
my mercy?
She moans sleepily, kicking her leg out of the bedsheet. The full moon
massages her skin, giving the perfect lighting as I shift forward slightly,
moving the hoodie over my head. If she wakes up, what would she do?
Her skin is perfect. Not a single fucking flaw, and the worst part is, I
know what she feels like beneath my touch. What she tastes like on the tip
of my tongue. It’s not enough, though. She’s like a hit of Devil’s Drop—
addictive, consuming, and a definite way to die.
 She shuffles again. This time the white sheet slides off her body and I’m
staring back at her half-naked. She’s wearing a small little bralette and tight
booty shorts that tighten around the crescent of her ass. I feel my cock swell
against the zipper in my jeans and I shift back again, spreading my legs
wide. The more I’m locked inside a trance, the more I find myself desperate
to touch her. The need too great. Her ass too perfect.
I flick the button of my jeans off, my eyes never leaving her and pull
down the zipper, wrapping my fingers around my thick cock and letting it
rest in my palm the way I want her to. I play with it first, with the
smoothness of my skin, rubbing the cushion of my thumb over the tip of my
cock to dampen it with my pre-cum before sliding it down the base and
cupping my balls.
She moans again and my dick twitches in my grip. I swear I can smell
her from here. I inhale deeply, taking in the sweet scent of rose. Of
lavender.
I need to fucking touch her. To break her open and feel her blood
dripping down my skin, if only so I can taste it again.
I pump gently as my breathing hitches in my throat. I want to move her
panties to the side and bury my face against her pussy. I jerk myself harder.
Faster. Sweat drips down my temples as I keep myself fixated on her.
Ripping her underwear away and forcing my cock so deep inside her that it
leaves my mark for everyone else who tries to touch her after.
I want to fucking hurt her—lick her—suck her dry. My balls tighten as
my toes curl and my throat closes around myself when I feel the explosion
of my orgasm shoot out from my cock in jerking movements.
I release my dick slowly, allowing myself to lie still for a few seconds
as I catch my breath. Leaning down to the ground, I pick up a discarded
shirt. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale deeply and snarl at the scent I pick up.
Desperation and cheap cologne. Her shitty friend Ben.
 I clean my dick with it but catch some cum on my thumb, tossing it to
the ground and putting myself away before standing to my full height. I
don’t even bother to hide my heavy footsteps, because at this point, I want
her to wake up. To see me standing over her body before I fucking take hers
for myself.
Her blonde hair is spread over her pillows, her little face turned to the
side and lips slightly parted to breathe. My mouth kicks up into a dark
smirk as I bring my cum-covered thumb to her mouth, dipping it inside.
“You taste that, baby girl? Yours.”
I swear my girl hums her approval, and the sound is too fucking
tempting to stop, so I press a little further. Goddamn, if she doesn’t open up
for me, both her lips and her legs.
I want to slide between them and fuck away Ben and his scent from her
body. Maybe I should. Cover her mouth with my hand and force myself
inside of her until she’s begging me for more.
“Hmmm,” I murmur, biting down on my lower lip until I draw blood.
No. Not yet.
For now, I’ll settle for oneirokinesis, and maybe a little bit of royal
magic…

L
 I fly up in my bed, fingers clenched in the sheets, legs trembling and the
ache between them a sweet sort of torture.
I’m soaked, both slick with sweat and arousal as I drag my hands to my
neck, fighting for a solid breath as if I just got done with an epic fuckathon
when it was no more than the makings of a wet dream.
The images flash before me in warm waves, and I bite my lip.
Knight standing at the end of my bed.
Knight leaning over it, touching me. Tasting me.
Or I swear dreamland Knight was about to before my damn eyes flew
open and ruined all the fun. I’d almost prefer another murderous nightmare
over being teased but not taken care of.
Besides, me and the Grim Reaper-like fucker who keeps trying to kill
me in my sleep should be on a first name basis by now. Who the hell has the
same nightmare over and over, anyway?
Groaning, I rub my legs together in hopes of some relief, but at this
point, I’m convinced not even my vibrator will get the job done. Knight’s
touch, or the memory of it that played in my dream, is that good.
Straight up, I want to fuck Knight, and if I had his number, I would beg
for a booty call. I am not above a late-night ride.
Pouting, I roll onto my side, and my eyes find the clock, its red lights
blinking back at me. Ten after four.
Jesus fuck, four o’clock?
I didn’t make it to bed by four most nights last semester without Ben’s
supervision, let alone wake up before it. No, I haven’t woken up this early
since I was a little girl.
It’s strange, for several years I would wake from a dead sleep at three
a.m. like clockwork. I would just sit there and stare at the minutes ticking
by with this heavy sense of anxiousness, as if I was just waiting for
something to happen. For someone to come in and…I don’t know, kill
me…or so my uncle thought.
 After he realized it was happening, Uncle Marcus would do his best to
check on me, telling me things like ‘it’s okay,’ ‘all the doors are locked,
‘there’s nothing to be afraid of, little crow.’
The thing is it was never fear I felt. Not once.
It was excitement that raced through my veins, a strange stirring
eagerness deep in my chest, like when a puppy wags its tail, or that was the
only thing I could think to compare it to when I was a child. I tried to tell
my uncle I wasn’t scared, more than once, in fact, but he would just look at
me with kind eyes and a small smile, and even as a little girl, I knew he
thought I was trying to be tough. I wasn’t.
My little late-night waiting party went on for years, until ever so slowly
the feeling of anxiousness dropped into my stomach, creating a hollow void
of despair. Of…loss. It made no sense. Eventually, I learned to block it out
until one day, I no longer had to stop trying to.
It wasn’t gone, somehow I knew that, but it was as if a deeper part of
me knew what to do and protected me from the pain I didn’t understand
because it made no sense.
My uncle was a wholesome man. My best friend was the shit and his
grandma treated me like I was one of her own. After I lost my parents, I had
a whole support system around me. I didn’t know another way.
With a heavy sigh, I climb from bed, making my way to the bathroom. I
splash a little cold water onto my face, staring at my ratted hair in the
mirror.
“Ugh.” Brush in hand, I head back into my room, throw on a pair of
sweats, and reach for the shirt I tossed off mid-sleep last night, but squeak
when my fingers touch something sticky. “Damn.”
I kick it to the side, and my eyes fall to the T-shirt folded neatly on the
dresser—the black shirt I woke up in the other night. I tug it over my head,
brush my mane of Daenerys, and tiptoe into the kitchen, careful not to wake
Ben as I quickly pop in a pod to make a cup of coffee.
 I snag a blanket off the back of the couch and throw it over my
shoulders before moving back to dress up my drink. Only once the steaming
beverage is drowning in cinnamon syrup do I leave the room and head
down to the first floor, then out the dorm doors.
The campus is a dead zone, as I suspected, so I watch my surroundings
as I make my way toward the picnic tables about twenty feet away.
I climb on top of the one nearest my building, ignoring how my ass is
instantly wet from the moisture built up on the chipping paint, and wrap the
blanket tighter around me.
I look up at the sky and my mood sours a little more.
There’s just something about the darkness fading that rubs me wrong.
Everything is better at night.
“I should be surprised to find you here, but I’m not.”
I jolt, my legs flying from where they’re bent as hot coffee sloshes over
the edge. My head snaps over my shoulder, seeking the voice out in the
shadows of the trees.
My eyes crash with a pair of blue ones and I follow his every step as he
circles me like prey, one foot in front of the other, hands buried deep in his
pockets.
“Creed.”
“Why are you here?” he wonders.
My head tugs back. “I live here. Why are you here?”
“I’m looking for my brother. He didn’t come home.” He eyes me
suspiciously, closing the distance.
So they are brothers!
Wait. “You think he was with me?”
“I said I was looking for my brother, did I not?”
My brows jump. “Oh, you want to be a dick. Cool. You can fuck off.”
“And you can watch your back.”
 “And you can back the fuck up before you get a face full of, what I’m
sure, is a lukewarm coffee now.”
His lip curls into a slow smirk and I scowl, slowly bringing my mug to
my lips. Ass. Creed is hot in the same way the others are, but I don’t know.
Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. I need to figure it out.
He watches me take a few small sips, as I lower the mug to the tabletop.
His deep blue eyes lift to mine as he takes another step toward me. I don’t
dare look away. This guy, he’s like a mountain lion, tracking my every
move with a territorial gleam in his glare.
“What is it about you that has him so twisted, hmm?” Slowly, he dips
his head, a heated gaze rolling over me. “I can see the appeal, sure. Tight
little curves, perfect fat tits, and those lips…” His eyes snap up to mine and
then there he is. Right up on me.
My bent knees press against his chest as he leans over the bench my feet
are perched on. He plants his palms at my sides, and I swallow past the
thick swell in my throat. His eyes flash to the spot, his tongue rolling over
his lower lip.
Jesus, these boys are walking wonder sticks, working some voodoo shit
on me that has me prickling all over like a needy bitch.
Creed’s eyes roll over my face, pausing for a long moment on my
forehead, small creases forming along his own. “What am I missing, Little
London?” he purrs. “What are you hiding up there?”
Suddenly, his head pops up, attention snapping behind me, so I turn to
see, but no one is there, and when I glance back, Creed isn’t either.
 Sixteen

K night

“Y ?!” I C
the minute we step through the portal.
He comes right back, bumping his against mine. “Didn’t have to follow
you, and I still knew exactly where you were.”
“Fuck, do you care who I’m fucking, Creed? If you want in on my shit,
get in line behind Sin.” The words are bitter on my tongue, and I bite into
my cheek to taste the sweet cinnamon flavor of my blood instead.
“Don’t act fucking stupid.” He glares. “You and I both know something
has gotten into you, and I’m pretty sure we both know what it is.”
I stumble backward slightly, Mom’s voice replaying over and over in
my head. “With everything going on right now, especially after the attack at
the Dragon’s Lair, we have more important shit to worry about, Creed.
This”—I point to the ground—“is nothing.”
He blinks back at me, and I keep walking because even though I’m
cutting this conversation off, he can’t deny I have a point.
What’s happening with the impending war is just that. An impending
war. The question is, from where? The Ministry has enemies on stacks, and
that’s without even looking at each other. It hasn’t happened yet and is why
a treaty was drawn up, but it doesn’t cancel it out. They could very well be
the fucking problem here and masking it with dragon drama.
“So if I didn’t come interrupt your little stalking session and who knows
what the fuck else you were planning,” Creed keeps his shit up, “you’d
have still showed to practice this morning…practice that starts in four
fucking minutes?”
“I’m walking with you now, aren’t I?” I snap.
Creed scoffs, and in my peripheral, the motherfucker shakes his head.

M , I ,
back at an announcement from the school Instagram page. In light of the
attack and to reiterate from the conversation in the common room
yesterday, students are urged not to partake in any rumor spreading. We are
handling it.
I stare back at Creed. “If it was student-related, why would they care
about a bunch of shit-talking Gifted?”
Creed continues across the grass, and I follow a few steps behind.
“They wouldn’t. They don’t give a fuck about rumors.”
He is right. There have been multiple stories spun since we’ve been
here, none of which the headmistress has ever felt the need to address so
publicly.
We reach our campus, and as we pass the growing pixie plants that
crawl up the cobblestone wall, they release an earthy scent into the air.
“That aside,” Creed clears his throat as he shoves through the main
doors that lead to the arena. “Do we need to be worried about you with this
chick?” The chatter that was happening moments ago quiets as we make
our way deeper into the room. The main entrance to the common room is
glass walls and diamond chandeliers. It’s the area students are allowed to be
in if they don’t want to be outside, or in their sanctions of magic. There’s a
grand piano tucked away in the corner that plays continuous classical
music, and I wonder every now and then what that would look like in
Stygian. Pretty sure it’d be replaced with an electric guitar. This place is
fucking biased toward the Argents. So much for balance.
We shove through the exit doors and follow down the stone path to the
locker rooms, but before we step inside, I meet my oldest brother's blue
gaze.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. I told you it’s just something
that’s keeping me entertained. No different to the bullshit I play with Alex.”
I knew that was a lie and that Creed would pick up on it , but I said it
anyway.
The mirrored doors part, and we both step inside. “Whatever you say.”
The elevator creeps down and down and I watch as the numbers slowly
drop until we’re a few dozen feet underground, my mind running right back
to its newest obsession. I hate that I can’t get her out of my head. Especially
after last night when all I wanted to do was tear her apart. Maybe I’ll visit
her again tonight.
…or maybe I’ll just keep playing with her.
Creed elbows me and I blink, realizing the doors have opened and half
of the team is staring at me standing stone-still in the center of the square.
Fuck them.
I lift my chin and move toward our side of the lockers. Yes, the
Deverauxs have their own section.
Guess the school heard about the bullshit some low-level punks tried to
pull on us back in Rathe. It was Creed's senior year of high school and of
the six dudes on the ice come the drop of the puck on game day, we made
up four of them. Being gifted, we have no real reason to rotate players. We
don’t get tired and fighting is allowed back home.
 Some guys didn’t like a team of royals and decided to put a silver scale
in Creed’s locker, knowing the poisons it carries—there's a reason the silver
snake is forbidden outside the castles of Rathe.
Unfortunately, for them, Creed’s got senses that rival both the Lycans
and the Vamps combined. He didn’t know who put the scale in his shit, so
he multiplied it and every single player on the team outside the four of us
were stone stiff before the coach even set foot in the room.
The coach reamed our asses, the school attempted to scold us, and our
parents were pissed we didn’t deliver a fatal blow. Not that a silver scale
can’t be fatal. It can, but still. It wasn’t enough retribution for the leaders of
the Stygians.
Gotta love the king and queen of dark magic.
Legend and Sin are already here, half suited up, so Creed and I make
quick work of getting changed.
“Zeke already headed out, got him some new blades.” Sinner grins my
way. “Boy went with a bigger bite.”
“His bite’s as threatening as a toothless Vamp,” I joke even though the
bite he’s referring to has nothing to do with his mouth and everything to do
with his skate.
A bigger bite means he’s giving up some of his glide for a better grip so
he can pick up speed quicker.
Legend scoffs. “So he thinks a deeper hollow is gonna, what, somehow
hold his own against us?”
Creed tosses his shit in the locker, shaking his head. “He’s already on
the ice more than the others. He needs to watch himself or he’ll have a gang
of teammates after his ass,” he mumbles.
Nodding, we finish up and hit the ice, running some small warm up
drills before we work on defense based on the next team we’re playing.
Again, waste of fucking time when they’re human.
 No sooner than I’m skidding to a stop, is someone bumping into me
from behind.
Whipping around, I come face to face with Zeke.
I tear my helmet off and let it fall to the ice with a harsh thwack.
Zeke rolls back with a smirk and his palms up. “My bad. Wasn’t
watching where I was going.” The corner of his mouth hooks up and he
shifts, skating past me.
I let him get four feet, far enough for him to think I let it slide, before I
pounce, shooting forward and throwing a skate out. He is fucking gifted, so
of course he hops over it in the last second … but that’s exactly what I
wanted.
When he jumps up, I use my speed to stand, and his neck presses right
into my open and waiting palm.
Using cyrokinesis, I manipulate the ice, lifting myself and forming a
glacier-made fist for fun and slam him down onto it. The ice cracks and
breaks against his pretty fucking face, and red colors the icy blue floors.
Zeke pops up, blood pouring from his slipskin from forehead to chin.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
My mouth hooks to the right and I glide closer, arms at my side and
nothing but an opening straight to my jaw ... if only he wasn’t too much of a
pussy to take the shot.
Or maybe he’s smarter than I thought.
To make an enemy of a Lord is to make an enemy of four Lords, and he
already threatened me.
Zeke can't handle all the eyes on him and his busted face, and opens his
mouth, seconds away from making a mistake.
Of course, the coaches sense it, fucking empaths. “Enough!” our head
coach shouts. “Silver, get your ass over here and deal with Zeke. Zeke, just
… be fucking smarter.”
 “Yeah, Zeke, be smarter,” someone taunts and then a water Fae cleans
up the mess while we get into position.
Creed grins from me to Sin and I smirk from Legend and back.
This. This right here is about the only fucking enjoyable thing this place
has to offer.
Time on the ice with my brothers.
And a little blue-eyed, white-haired—
No.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
 Seventeen

L ondon

“I’ ’
you made us go to on Saturday,” I say to Jus as I reach for the amethyst
sphere on the top shelf. I’m glad I skipped out on Ben’s team kickback last
night. With how hard I’ve been going lately, I don’t know how I would
have gotten through work today.
“I promise you, I didn’t.” The worst part about Justice is that I believe
him. I believe that he’s not a bad person and that he wouldn’t just leave his
friends at a freaking party alone with people they don’t know. Not to
mention we had no idea where we were since we rode in wearing fucking
blindfolds.
“Well, anyway,” I finally reach the heavy ball and swipe a microfiber
cloth on my way down, “I think I’m partied out.” Moving to the counter, I
start on polishing the lavender-colored stone. I don’t think much of
amethyst. It’s not as self-indulgent as rose quartz, but still not for me. I like
the darker stones. The kind that offers protection as much as they tell you
everything that’s bad with yourself so you can fix it. I got Ben to do shadow
work meditation with me once, and although he’s a Christian boy at heart,
he still tried it with me. For all of two minutes.
“Yeah, me too.” Jus starts counting the money in the till. “Sorry I
dipped out. I honestly thought that you and Ben were fine. Ben seemed to
have his little toy for the night and you seemed to be busy with the”—he
waves his hands around the place—“whatever you had going on.”
He has a point, and the crimson creeping up his pale cheeks tells me he
knows exactly what I was doing.
“True,” I say, placing the freshly polished crystal on its stand. “But
honestly, whatever that powder was that you gave us that night, it fucked
me up for a long time.” I make my way back to the shelf, leaning up on my
tippy toes. “I swear I saw floating people.” I land back on my feet and huff
out a deep breath. “I mean, I was seeing, like, animals and shit. I think I was
tripping really bad. Whatever you gave me, I cannot have again.”
Justice chuckles darkly, and I watch as he disappears into the back
room. I wasn’t kidding when I told him that I don’t want any of that ever
again. Aside from all the random shit I saw while I was on it, it also seemed
to heighten my dreams as well. As if my nightmares weren’t bad enough.
Justice emerges with a new box of whatever his mother unpacked this
week. “I know, and I said I’m sorry.” He places the box on the counter,
sifting through this week’s stock. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”
Not likely.
There’s a reason Ben is my only true friend—I only fuck with the ride
or die type, and well, he’s the only one I’ve found so far.
Justice has several strikes against him already, so he’s officially in the
you’re-all-right-and-we-can-hang-but-that’s-about-it category.
“How about dinner tonight?”
“Can’t.” I move to the ancient book behind the counter to “clock out”
from my shift, which is just me writing my name with this fancy feathered
pen that supposedly can sniff out a lie, as Justice’s moms claim. I’m dying
to test it out, out of pure curiosity. Who knows, maybe it does.
I laugh at myself and scribble my name before shoving it back beneath
the counter.
“Why not?” Justice follows me to the door, holding it open for me as I
sling my purse over my shoulder.
“I’m picking up food on the way home and staying in with Ben tonight.
He has no practice for the first time in forever so we’re taking advantage of
that.”
I could totally invite Justice over too, but I don’t want to, so I wave and
head out the door.
Not thirty minutes later, I’m slipping into the elevator inside my dorm
building.
Hands full, I use my elbow to turn the knob and slip inside. I kick the
front door closed with my foot, balancing a pizza with one hand and my
phone in the other. Placing the box on the counter, I flip it open and inhale
the hot steam of fatty cheese. My stomach rumbles as I snatch a piece,
dropping my keys onto the counter and moving into the lounge where Ben
is seated watching hockey, always hockey.
I lean against the wall, biting into the greasy goodness. “I have an idea.”
I chew slowly as he lowers his beer from his mouth, keeping his eyes on
mine.
“And what’s that?” To be fair, in Ben’s eyes, this could mean anything.
I’ve given him a trigger without even meaning to. One time when we were
kids, I told him that I had an idea. That idea led to us cliff diving off steep
mountains in the valley. He hasn’t quite forgiven me for that yet either.
“I’ve decided that I’m not doing any more parties. That last one was
crazy. How were you on the coke that Justice gave you?”
Ben swipes the bottom of his lip with his thumb, placing his 808 onto
the coffee table and spreading his knees wide. He looks between the TV and
me dismissively, as if he’s not sure how to answer.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, clearing his throat. “I guess it was just like
any other strain. But yeah, you were fucked up.”
“Wait!” I raise my hand up to stop him. “So you didn’t see the things I
saw?”
“Like what? Drunk orgies?” Ben laughs, and I slap him.
“Of course that’s all you remember.”
“That’s all that is worth remembering.”
I glare and Ben’s head tilts as he chuckles. “I knew you were fucked up.
I didn’t know you were that fucked up.”
Weird. I knew it was affecting him differently, making him sluggish and
me lively and free, but outside of that, we were on the same level—I was
sure of it.
“So you and that girl?” I change the subject, sinking my teeth into the
last bite of pizza.
“Who? Cassandra?” He scoops up his beer again, taking a large swig.
He snorts around the rim. “Told you, she was a good time, but she’s not a
long time.”
My eyes roll as I head back into the kitchen to find another piece of
pizza. “Never is with you, though, is it, Ben?” I snatch my phone from the
counter and make my way to my bedroom down the hall. I love my best
friend, but sometimes I wonder if he hears himself talk. “Movie in twenty?”
“Soon as I finish reading these chapters for socio.”
Ugh. Sociology. Gag me.
This is probably not the best time to tell him I got an F on my history
paper.
As I cross the threshold of my bedroom, I pause.
I swear I can smell him.
The heady scent of freshly cut grass with the added spice of richness.
It’s perfect for him, sort of like I picture his true personality to be. A little
woodsy and wild, untamed with a hint of cinnamon. The scent is just
enough to taste it on the tip of your tongue, but not enough to fucking choke
on it.
Must be coming off of the clothes I wore Saturday night that are still
sitting in the hamper in my closet.
I fall down on my bed and open up Instagram, scrolling through my
home page. I hate that I don’t remember much from the party. I hate that I
don’t know what I saw. But most of all, I’m so sure I remember someone
from Saturday night. It’s a blur of green hair. I’ve been doing all I can to try
to clear the fog in my head the last few days, but that’s all I remember.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I keep scrolling through Instagram. Picture after picture, photo after
photo. Maybe I posted something on my Insta story? No, of course not. I’m
not that reckless.
Scoffing down my last slice, I put my phone on charge and peek in on
Ben. He’s on his second beer and still has his face tucked into his book, so I
make a quick trip to the showers. I scrub swiftly, dry myself, and I’m back
in our shared suite in no more than ten minutes, my shoulders sagging when
I spot Ben knocked out cold, his book flat on his chest.
I drop a blanket over him but leave the book so he doesn’t wake up, and
head back to my room, movie night officially canceled.
I hit the light off before crawling into bed. Today was long and tiring,
all the partying catching up to me, so maybe it’s good Ben fell asleep so I
can try to catch up on some too. Even as I think it, I know it won’t come
that easy, as there’s still something that sits beneath my skin that I can’t
seem to scratch. I just know I’m missing … something, and it feels like a lot
more than nightmares.
It feels like an actual piece.
Sighing, I snuggle into my cool sheets and pull them up near my chin,
reaching for the remote. I hit the power button and start scrolling through
Netflix. I just need something normal. Something that’s going to take my
mind off of whatever I got myself into Saturday night.
I push play on reruns of Gossip Girl, hoping to find some sort of
comfort from a show that I’ve already watched hundreds of times over the
years. I must be on episode three when my phone vibrates on my mattress. I
reach for it aimlessly, opening the new text message. Unknown number.
Maybe one that I’ve forgotten to save. Maybe it’s that fake mystery friend I
made the other night. Or maybe I really am losing my mind.
Unknown: Are you a good liar London?
I stare back at the words, confusion swimming through my brain. My
fingers fly over the keypad, and I hit send.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: I think you know.
I think back over the day. I saw Creed, and by the vibes that I got from
him today, he doesn’t like me very much. Maybe it’s him.
Me: Creed?
Seconds pass when nothing comes through. I almost think that they’ve
given up when the phone lights up in my hand and I’m once again
distracted.
Unknown: Wrong brother.
My stomach drops to the floor as hot sweat breaks out over my skin.
How did he get my number, and why am I not mad about it?
Me: Are you here to gloat?
I clutch my phone tightly. I hate that whatever Serena and Blair are
going through in the background slowly sinks into nothingness as I wait for
those little dots to pop up on my phone.
First off, how did he get my number, and why would he text me? Creed
is obvious about his feelings for me, but Knight is someone I can’t get a
read on. It’s like he’s angry with me, but he also loves to play. Am I his
plaything?
 Would I mind if I were?
My thighs clench together as I try to think over anything that I might be
able to remember from Saturday night. I feel him in my bones and inside
my skin, so why do I not feel him in my mind? Why is he not present in my
memories if I can feel his touch on my flesh? It doesn’t make sense.
Unknown: Gloat about what?
My agitation slowly surfaces.
Me: You tell me.
Unknown: Sweet dreams, Lon.
Me: Whatever. I’m too tired for this shit.
I toss my phone down onto my bed and pick my remote up angrily,
flicking over the angst between the two polar opposite besties on the screen.
I need something placid like Chuck Bass and Blair. Yes. I need that. I hit
play on whatever episode it is, snuggling back deep into my covers. My
eyes turn heavy as I struggle to stay awake. Fatigue sets into my muscles as
time passes, and before I know it, lights are out.

My body buzzes with energy as my eyes pop open. I’m back here again.
Great. Why am I slowly getting the feeling that whatever is happening in
this nightmare is a message? That whatever I’m seeing is some sort of sick
handwritten note being sent to me from God knows who. God, maybe?
I had an easy childhood, no weird shit to speak of, so I couldn’t even
pretend to guess what that message would be. My life was as normal as
normal goes, both before and after my parents’ deaths, minus the whole
missing them from time-to-time part, but that went away after a year or so.
My uncle provided me with all the love a child needed, but this bridge?
There’s something about it other than the obvious heat coming from the
other side, where stone and ice now lie at my feet.
I rack my brain trying to remember if I’ve ever seen it before in my
hometown but come up empty.
 Also, how the hell do I know I’m in dream-fucking-land right now?!
Goosebumps break out over me as the wind licks itself over my exposed
flesh, and just like every other time, I feel it creep beneath my skin like the
angst of the walking dead. Pins and needles of what it gives me is nothing
compared to the shadowy figure that glides above me. My mouth closes and
I can’t move. Every single limb on my body is frozen in place. The hooded
figure continues to hover above my body carefully. All of the other times,
this is when I would wake up. When his presence penetrated my mind so
much that I couldn’t take it anymore, or when he grabbed for me. But I am
determined now. I’m determined to stay in as long as I can.
The shadowy figure draws his hand out from the cloak he’s wearing,
and I swear I hold my breath as his long fingers come to my chin, the
skeletal shape a silent warning as he forces my eyes forward onto him.
Is he going to kill me?
Can he even kill me?
I mean, I’m dreaming, right? No one can touch me here.
Except he is.
His hands drag down the crux of my sternum, over and grazing my
breasts. I shiver, sweat penetrating my skin. He doesn’t speak, and the
longer I’m here, the more I want to run. I don’t want this. I don’t want him
touching me.
I try sitting up, tensing my abs to push off the ground, but a heavy
weight slams down on my chest, holding me there. When I look down, I see
the bone crackling contrast of his hand. That same skeletal creature forced
me back down to the ground. I still can’t see his face, nothing but a haunted
figure.
He dips lower, and I hear him inhale deeply as he drags himself down
my stomach and then farther down between my thighs. What is he doing? I
need to push him away from me and get as far away from here as possible.
He’s going to touch me. I don’t want it. No. I try to unclench my fists and
reach for him, but there is no use. Merciless by my own mind, I’m hopeless
to this nightmare.
It comes fast like a cool wave crashing over me and forcing me back
down into its current. I once again try to slam my thighs closed, desperate
to put distance between us, but it’s no use. He has me captive, paralyzed,
and at his mercy. Something damp presses against my inner thigh, trailing
all the way over my pussy. The monster flicks his tongue over my clit, and
before I can fight it, a tight moan escapes me. I hate that my body has
betrayed me at this moment because I’m afraid.
I’m not scared to admit when something is too much for me, and this is.
I feel sticky and violated, and as every second passes, I want to run even
more. His tongue dives inside me, and I yelp loudly, my back arching off the
ground and my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I would give anything to
grip on to something, to feel anything!
My hands finally slam onto the ground, and I try to squeeze whatever I
can to help me roll through the confusion of pain and pleasure when the
ground beneath me turns to silk. Wait a minute. Why is it silk?
My eyes slightly crack open as the hooded figure disappears, and as
every second passes, the bridge turns into my TV and the hooded figure that
was once flying up above me is now a real man. A hoodie covers half of his
face, though, the outside moonlight barely showing the sharpness of his
jaw.
“Did you sleep well, Lon?”
I go to scream, fear prickling down my neck, but he slams his hand over
my mouth, forcing me back onto my bed. He turns his head to the side,
inhaling deeply as he moves from the crook of my neck up to my temple.
“Damn,” he murmurs against my cheek, so close the warmth of his
breath falls over the shell of my ear. “You taste about as good as I thought
you would. Only one thing could make you taste better. Know what that is,
my little doll?” His free hand buries itself in my white hair, and he gives a
little tug. “My cum mixed with yours.” He groans into my neck. “I can
fucking taste us now.”
I should bite into his hand to try to break free, but I don’t.
I should shove against him, but I don’t.
I should want him off me and away and demand to know how the hell
he got into my room and who the fuck he thinks he is…but I don’t.
A sense of verity washes through me, easing the tension in every
muscle until I’m nothing but loose limbs and a needy cunt. It’s twisted and
all sorts of fucked up, but I want him right where he is, hovering above me
with his legs between mine. I’ve dreamed of this, literally, but I’m not
dreaming now.
Knight is here in my room, and there’s this deep, penetrating ache
swimming inside me that screams I need him to stay.
My expression must give me away because Knight’s lips lift into a
small smirk and the hand pressed to my mouth slowly eases. He drags his
fingertips across my lips as he frees me, but my body has a mind of its own,
turning and chasing the contact of his skin on mine. Desperation has my
mouth watering, and only once my tongue flicks along the tips of his
fingers do my lungs allow me to breathe. It’s a full breath and it’s all
Knight. His scent, his flavor. Him.
My head swims as a delicious need to be closer beats against my
temples. It’s as though there are torn tethers deep within me, revealing
themselves for the first time as the strain and stretch of an invisible force
reaches for him, begging for him, screaming sharply in the dark corners of
my mind.
Mine, mine, mine, it cries and a sharp gasp whistles past my lips, my
tongue rolling across them.
“So needy,” he muses, offering his thumb, only to deny me at the last
second.
I should be embarrassed at the whimper that escapes, but I’m not.
 Knight’s eyes are bright in the darkness of my room, and they only
grow more vivid at the desperation leaking out of me.
“Does my little doll want to taste me as bad as I wanted to taste her?” he
purrs, that hand trailing down my neck and across my collarbone. He
lowers his lips there, licking the small divot with a deep groan. “I’m gonna
mark you right fucking here … gonna mark you all over in ways not even
your nightmares could comprehend, my Little London.”
A shaky breath pushes past my lips, and when my legs fall open farther,
Knight’s eyes slice right where I want him most. His tongue flicks along the
tip of his teeth and I swear, they’re sharper than I remember, but I don’t
have time to wonder if I’m right because in my next breath, his long fingers
are plunging inside me.
“Fuck,” I croak.
“Don’t worry. I’m about to.” He shoves deeper, twisting his wrist so his
thumb is applying pressure to the ring of muscle no one has ever pushed
past before, and I cry out.
Knight dips down, cutting off the sound with a crash of his lips on
mine.
We moan together, and when my hips lift to wrap around him, he lowers
his body, tearing his hand free and grinding his length against me, his zipper
cutting into my soft skin. I welcome the sting, rolling my hips against his
and he growls, tearing away. He shoves my legs from his body, lifting onto
his knees.
“Up,” Knight snaps, hands working on his belt and jeans, allowing them
to fall around his muscular thighs.
I scramble in the bed, staring as he slides backward a bit to make room
for me, and when he reaches forward with those long arms, his palm
locking tight around the back of my neck, I know what he wants.
I shift onto all fours and crawl the short distance to him, transfixed as
his hands dip inside his briefs. He frees himself, squeezing around the base
of his cock.
Like I knew he would be, he’s long and thick and with a perfect little
curve from base to tip.
He jerks himself once, and my tongue presses at my top lip, rolling,
eager to swipe along the glistening spot now staring back at me.
“Take me,” he demands, a roughness to his tone that has my nipples
sharpening into painful peaks. “Show me how good you can be for me.”
He doesn’t wait for me to lower, but pushes my head down, and I open
eagerly, sealing my lips around the tip, licking the pre-cum clean.
“Mmm,” he moans, fist tightening in my hair as he presses at my
mouth, forcing himself deeper.
He slides inside and I relax, opening my throat further to take him
deeper. I gag around him, but I don’t stop. I suck him hard, my tongue
swirling around as I bob up and down, his cum touching the back of my
throat.
My eyes roll back as another hint of his savory flavor coats my tongue
and my pussy aches.
“Mouth made of satin,” he groans, hips bumping slightly as he guides
me by my hair. “Bet your pussy’s soft as velvet.”
His mouth sends another shot of desire down my spine, and I tremble,
one hand diving between my legs to ease the ache there, but Knight growls,
yanking my hair until my scalp stings. The pain morphs to a pulse and our
eyes meet.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he growls.
“Did I say you could come into my room?” I counter, lifting a brow and
licking him from my lips.
His eyes flash and then I’m in his arms, lifted and tossed back down.
He drops between my legs, and I think his tongue is going back to work
on me, but then he tears off my panties. I look down and desire ripples
through me.
 He’s gone straight carnal, pupils blown wide as he crawls up my body
like a fucking tiger, slow and steady with his eyes on his next meal, my
thong hanging from his teeth.
It’s so fucking hot that I can feel the moisture build between my legs.
I’m dripping, so ready for him.
Only once he’s right above me does he let the underwear fall from his
teeth.
His cock finds my entrance without any guidance, and with our gazes
locked, he shoves inside me.
 Eighteen

K night

I .S ’
velvet money can’t buy. She’s so fucking tight and soft and warm.
So fucking mine.
Tonight. She’s mine tonight and tonight only because I like to share.
I will share.
Heat ripples down my spine at the thought, but I focus on the dick-
dazed girl beneath me. She looks so good there, like a perfect fucking fit.
I swear, little reams of silver light up the edges of her eyes, but when I
blink, they’re gone and I pull back, slowly shoving inside her again, each
time a little harder. A little deeper, and when her legs come up to lock
around me, I take that as my cue to fuck her raw.
“I want you to bleed for me. I want you sore and aching.” I pump in and
out of her, my hips slapping against hers with loud thwacks. “I want you
thinking of me with every step you take.”
She pulls her knees back, throwing them over my shoulders with a
Cheshire grin, and something rumbles deep in my chest.
 I lean forward, gripping her headboard, and I don’t hold back. I fuck her
until she’s screaming, quickly throwing a barrier up around us to keep her
little fucking friend from bursting in. Normally, I wouldn’t care, I’d want
him to hear, to walk in and watch my cock own her, but I’m burning up
from the inside out, boiling with this internal need like never before to
claim. To take.
To fucking own.
If someone interrupts, they’d be dead before their mouth opens. Period.
“I can feel you in my stomach,” she gasps, clawing at the sheets beneath
her, so I take her hands and put them where she wants. The heat of her
palms slides beneath my shirt and a tingling sensation zips down my
fucking spine. She tugs on the thick cotton, and I let her tear it over my
head and toss it to the side. She smirks, nails grazing over my abs and
leaving tiny trails on their way up to my shoulders.
She grabs hold, hauling herself up a little, that talented tongue sweeping
along the center of my chest.
I hiss, my fingers digging into her ass cheeks. I shift and drop back,
bring her down on top of me, her legs instantly weaving behind my back.
Her head falls back, eyes rolling as I sink even deeper. “Good fucking
god, Knight.”
“Monster.”
“Hmm?” She grips my hair, tugging my face to her chest and I oblige,
lowering to tear her tits free.
“I’m a monster, Little London. No god could challenge me.” I grip her
hips and she takes over, dancing on my dick like she’s the prized dancer of
the fucking Paris Opera Ballet. She rides smooth and effortless and like she
was meant to sit right here for all eternity, right on my aching, angry cock.
“What kind of monster are you, Knight?”
The way the syllables of my name roll around her tongue has my head
spinning.
 My balls grow tight, my muscles flex, and I growl into her flesh, pulling
her nipple between my lips and sucking hard.
I’m not her anything and she’s my nothing, so why does my blood
pump ten times fucking faster when those words work their way down my
spine?
Her skin is flush and thick with sweat, and when she drops her head
back, her neck teases me. It tempts me in the worst fucking way.
I want to let my teeth loose and watch as panic bleeds into her eyes and
she scurries up the mattress, desperate to flee but with no escape. It would
only take a little nudge; a tiny push to dip beneath that fear and find that fire
I see in her. It’s there, buried beneath the frost, iced over the parts of her
from me. She would soon beg for my bite, and I would fucking give her
what she wanted.
My anger spikes, boiling my blood. I grip her hair and force her to me,
my lips pressing at her ear to answer the question, but she’s so damn lost in
her cresting orgasm.
“Think of the worst kind of monster you can imagine, and once you
have it in mind, picture me ripping his heart out, ’cause I am ten times what
you could ever imagine me to be.”
My hands glide down her back and her rhythm picks up.
She rides me fast and hard, panting as she pulls back to look at me. Her
big blue eyes stare into mine and she shocks me when she smiles and says,
“What if I said I have always wanted to play with the devil, if only to see
how bad it would burn?”
“Then I would say you’re pretty fucking close to getting what you
wished for. Now shut the fuck up and take this dick like you were made to.”
London hums her approval, and when I flip her over, she goes with a
happy little yelp. Widening her stance without being told, I shove into her
from behind.
A deep groan pulls from me and she purrs to life.
 “C’mere.” I skate my hand up her spine, locking onto the back of her
neck. Magic buzzes beneath my touch when I summon her, knowing damn
well she’s too out of it to notice. Just as she didn’t notice the cryokinesis
trickery I was using, sending icy chills over her breasts to tease and pebble
her nipples even more, to bite at her clit in a way that has her pussy
squeezing me so fucking good.
I imagine what I want it to do, sending small swirls of cool air over her
clit, and she gasps, head dropping to my shoulder.
I take her chin in my hand and smash my lips to hers.
She presses into me, and I drive into her and my body starts to shake,
tension pulling at my every muscle and she does the same, her brows
tightening.
My orgasm is right there, ready to erupt and she’s right there with me.
Sweat beads at my brows and her eyes flash to mine, holding a sliver of
panic that’s working its way into her.
My limbs shake, my hands stiffening, locking around her without
permission and she reaches back, gripping my face.
My dick flexes, strains, and her walls pulse around me.
Heat like I’ve never felt before spreads through my veins like fire.
“What—” she cuts off with a swallow.
And then we both come, at the same time, and the second our bodies let
go, erupting in sync, we quake, but it’s not like the heady tremble of a fuck
well done.
It’s more.
Electricity zings across my skin, zapping against her and she gasps, eyes
blowing wide as she stares into mine.
A low growl starts deep in my chest, way the fuck down in there
somewhere, as if coming from a pit I never knew existed, and when it
reaches my throat, forcing its way out, it’s a foreign sound.
 My teeth elongate, pricking at my lower lip, and she clenches her eyes
closed, a small, muffled cry leaving her as if she’s pained.
Light sparks around us, flickering and popping, and what the actual
fuck?!
Straining, I tug on my gift, and it takes everything I have to tear myself
from her.
I stumble from the bed, falling onto my fucking ass. Drunk with fatigue.
That has to be it.
I don’t bother going for my clothes.
I flick my fingers, and a portal appears, my eyes toward her. She’s fallen
over, eyes still closed as she grips at her throat, the harsh acrid scent of her
fear like flames in my nostrils.
Every part of me goes on high alert, demanding I go to her. That I
eliminate the threat, help her, shield her.
To protect what’s mine.
No.
NO.
I rage war with my mind, digging into it and clawing at the part of me
that seems to be on some Mage fucking madness, a cocktail of twisted shit
fucking me up from the inside out and warping reality, fucking with my
mind and waking the deeper, dormant parts of me.
This girl? This little Giftless girl is not fucking mine.
She’s nothing but a toy. A worthless plaything.
I’m a fucking royal. The strongest bloodline our kind has ever seen runs
through my veins.
I grind my teeth until I feel one crack, and then I step through the
fucking portal.
In less than a blink I’m back home, but the separation does nothing to
help.
 My lungs are closing in on me, caving deep within my chest to the point
that it’s a struggle to breathe. Shit, it’s a struggle to fucking stand. It’s like
the first time I slipped through a portal, only ten times worse. I fling my
arm out, using a simple summoning spell to call the couch to me, and with
only seconds to spare, I collapse onto it, my fingers digging into the
material. Rolling onto my back, I strain against the never-ending tug
threatening to tear my tendons in two.
A deep rumble stirs in my chest, fire like never before causing literal
sweat to build along my hairline and I grit my teeth. “Goddammit!”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight for control of myself, shutting down
everything raging inside me and focusing only on the tiny flicker of a flame
I picture deep within my mind. I watch as the flame dances, changing from
soft orange to reds and blues until finally, my eyes fly open.
My shoulders ease the slightest bit and my nostrils flare with a deep,
full breath, but the instant the heavy inhale fills my airway, my heart starts
beating triple time in my chest.
Her scent, it’s all fucking over me. Along my lips and chin, my fingers
and my cock.
Growling, I shove myself to my feet, stomping my way to my room,
and as I come around the corner, I’m flung to the side. Plaster explodes
against my shoulder as I go through the wall and I bare my teeth, my head
snapping left to find Sin.
His eyes blow wide as he takes me in, and instantly he jerks toward me,
but with that single foot closer, his body stills. His chin lifts as he takes it
deep, his lips fluttering closed as a slight shake works its way through him.
“You finally fucked her.” His grin is slow. “Goddamn, brother. Took
you long enough.”
My hand shoots out, catching myself on the wall, and I shove past him,
heading up the winding staircase to my room. Why the fuck didn’t I portal
straight in there? It hadn’t been that long. London wasn’t an easy lay, but
she was one I knew I’d get. At least once, I needed to taste her.
“Knight! Hold up—”
I put a wall between us, shutting him out and dragging my ass into the
shower. I hold my breath until every inch of me is lathered and rinsed, and
then I count to fucking ten.
Something’s wrong.
Off.
And I think Creed was right.
I think I might know what it is.
And if I don’t, best believe I’m going to find out.

I ,
the clock blinking six a.m. Lifting my arms over my head, I begin to
stretch, and when I feel the sharp sting of overused muscles, I
tense, blinking at the nothingness of my room.
Last night comes back to me in a whirlwind, and I swear literal wind
seems to roll over my skin, sending a chill throughout my body.
Holy shit! Knight was in my room last night and holy fucking shit, we
fucked like animals.
He flipped me more ways than I could count, fucking me into a coma,
or so it seems, as I have no recollection of him pulling out, leaving, or
falling asleep.
His every touch was purposeful, driving me insane and leaving me
fucked raw and red. I know it’s cliché as hell, and I never really thought it
was a thing, but rather a figure of speech. I was wrong because I swear to
God, I saw stars. Weirdly blinking, wrongly shaped ones, but stars,
nonetheless.
Smiling to myself, I roll onto my stomach, the soft sheets causing my
nipples to pebble, my body still overstimulated. Apparently, my cunt is a
needier bitch than I gave her credit for. And I gave her a lot of credit. The
bitch is maxed out of credit.
A heavy throb builds between my legs and I allow my hand to travel
south.
My fingertips brush over my sensitive center, dipping between the
sweet spot to see just how rough we played last night, and I moan at the
memory.
“God, I could—” My voice is cut from another at the other side of the
room.
He grips my ankles and forces me down the bed. “You could what,
Little L?” His eyes pierce mine in a way that bleeds through my veins. A
deep humming vibrates through the marrow of my bones the longer he
holds my stare. I can’t pull my eyes away from him, afraid that if I do, I’ll
wake up and this will be a dream.
“How the fuck did you get in?” I grip him by the strands of his hair,
forcing his eyes up to mine. My heart rattles against my ribcage as he stares
up at me from below.
The corner of his mouth curves upward slowly, and a flicker of silver
flashes over his eyes. “Who said I left?”
I sink my top teeth into my lower lip, and before I can stop him, his
mouth covers my pussy. Shivers rack through my body as I fall onto my
back, arms spread wide. Warmth disappears and I lean up on my elbows
and watch as he grabs himself through his thin basketball shorts. They’re
doing nothing to hide the feeling of him. Not that I could forget how thick
he is.
 Before I can say another word, he crawls up like a hunter and I’m the
prey.
My eyes find his and he bends, skating his lips along mine. “Do you
want me?”
I nod.
“Say it. Say”—he leans to the side, his lips grazing the side of my neck
—“I want you.”
A low whimper leaves me as I reach for him, but he blocks me, lifting a
brow. “Fuck me, how is that for saying I want you?”
His smirk is slow as he finally takes my lips with his.
The kiss is teasing and not what my body wants, the heat in my belly
doubling, but it knots rather than spreads. I yank on his hair, tugging him
away, but before I can say another word, he dives into my neck, kissing a
trail down my body until his mouth is hovering over my clit.
Heat covers me at once as his tongue dives into my entrance. I grip the
sheets once more, my back arching off the bed. His tongue flattens against
my clit and I lift my hips to chase friction when I’m met with air.
I push up from the bed as I see a body crash into Knight’s. A dark
hooded man, and any time I try to chase what he looks like, he shifts,
tackling Knight to the ground. Flesh being pounded filters through the air
and I quickly jump up, screaming.
Blood splatters over my face when I reach for the shoulder of the
intruder, and his body stills beneath my grip. Knight peers up at me from
below, blood that both is and isn’t his dripping over his face and split eye.
Whoever this dude is, Knight got him good enough to make him bleed. Just
hopefully not the blood that’s in my mouth.
He slowly turns, and my blood starts to run cold.
“Hey, asshole! Get the fuck out of my room before I”—my mouth falls
open and my stomach twists like hot coil—“what the fuck?”
 I look down to Knight, who’s now flashing me a wicked grin, before
going back to the hooded creature, who is staring right at me now. A
straight copy and paste of Knight. “I’m dreaming again.”
Stepping backward, I shake my head and tuck my hair behind my ear. I
am fucking dreaming again. Did I ever even wake up?!
“You’re not dreaming, London.” Knight’s voice cuts through.
Knight?
I point toward the two of them, heart pounding in my chest as I
subconsciously move farther and farther away. “Which one of you is
Knight?”
The hooded one slowly rolls back, turning to face me completely as
Knight pushes himself off the floor, swiping the blood from his mouth.
They stand side-by-side identical, and I squeeze my eyes closed to force
them to focus. Only this time when I open them, they’re still standing in the
same spot.
Knight picks up his shirt from the ground, throwing it over his shoulder
and pulls out a fat looking cigar. He bites it into his mouth. “Damn. Now
that doesn’t happen every day.”
Knight—wait—I turn to the left, Knight. The hooded Knight closes the
distance between us before his hands are wrapped around my face and chin
and he’s forcing me up against the wall, my head cracking against it. “You
mean to tell me you didn’t know that wasn’t me?”
“How the fuck—” I force myself out of his grip. “—was I to know?
You’re fucking twins! And you’re both here? Wait—” I swallow thickly.
“Why the fuck are you both here?”
The corner of this Knight’s mouth curls and I swear I hear a deep growl
vibrate off his chest.
“You ever—” A loud sound of wind swirls around the room and Hoodie
Knight, who I’m guessing is real Knight, unless Knight is just some name
they use to fuck with people, turns over his shoulder. Dust falls over my
face and everything goes black.
 Nineteen

K night

M
the portal shuts behind us. I don’t give him a second to stand before I’m
throwing his body against the brick building behind him. The marble stones
crack when his body falls back to the ground.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Sin shoves me in my chest, swiping
his new blood splatters off his chin. “What the fuck do you care?” The
streets in the city are quiet, but then I knew they would be. It’s timeless
here, but even the magic needs to refuel.
“Knight!” he shouts, but I give him no more than my fucking back as I
barrel down the road.
If I don’t get away from him now, I’ll do something I’ll regret. Show
my cards, not that I didn’t do that already.
I don’t ask why he sent us here out of everywhere. Why does he portal
us home? I let my feet take me to the only place where I’ll find answers.
The city is almost always alive, but tonight, on All Hallows’ Eve, we don’t
have a chance. We don’t celebrate the same way the Giftless do.
If only. Then maybe it would be over quicker.
 I keep following the marble pathway down the street, passing all of the
smaller shops. Convenience stores, bars. That’s all we really need down
here—or up. I stop walking when I hit the entrance to a dark alley. Trees
curve over the pathway, with shadows dancing across the pavement. The
trees whisper little notes.
That’s a Royal…oh no…whatever will he do.
Someone giggles and then adds, He will come and steal us. Only we
hope he actually takes us to bed this time. I roll my eyes. The squawking of
the butterflies dying off into the distance.
The store catches my eyes instantly. Nestled between two over-the-top
large buildings is a smaller one with two pointed cones reaching up to the
sky from the ceiling. It kind of looks like a miniature dark castle. Blood red
illuminates from the windows and I quickly pick up my pace to make it
across the road. My hands come to the door handle, and I push it open. Fog
swims around my ankles as the smell of burning sage and lavender drifts up
my nostrils.
“Sit.” The Mage points to the chair opposite hers, and my hands come
to the back. Zhara is the greatest Mage to ever speak, and that’s saying
something since they’re so powerful already.
Her long fingers curve around the deck of cards as she shuffles them. “I
know that you are not here for this, royal, so what is it that I can help you
with?”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I need help.”
“With what?” she asks, her soft pink eyes shifting up and down my
body. She leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other until the
split parts and exposes her lean, tanned thigh. “I mean…” She flicks the ash
off her whatever it is she’s smoking, bringing it back to her pastel pink lips.
“I have a feeling you need me for something other than what I am most
excited about.”
 Usually, Zhara and I dance around the fact that we both fuck like
animals. But nothing. I’ve got nothing for her right now, and I ain’t even
fucking sorry.
“Tell me about being mated and what usually happens.”
Zhara pauses, the cigarette short of her lips. She tilts her head slightly to
the right, studying me closely.
“You know what happens. You’re not here for that.” She pauses and I
hate the way a Mage can sniff out even your deepest and darkest secrets. I
feel the heavy pull of breath being forced out of me, and my fists clench.
“Watch it, Mage,” I warn as she uses her magic. She giggles, butting her
joint out in the floating ashtray. “Oh, boy. The first royal to find his mate.”
“I thought you couldn’t mate with a Giftless?” I growl through clenched
teeth.
Zhara raises her brow, her pierced tongue sliding over her lip. “You
can’t.”
“Elaborate.” I wave my hand out for her to continue, but instead, she
studies me like she does her subjects. All of her subjects fall, but she has
fun watching them splatter against the pavement before feasting on them.
“What I will tell you are the things you already know. The mating ritual
requires several steps to seal the bond, each one making the connection
between the pairing grow stronger and stronger until there is nothing
between you and your fated. Until you are one.” She watches me, likely
trying to figure out what step I’m on. “The first, the exchange of blood.
Both must drink of the other. Second, when you come together … literally
and figuratively.” She smirks. “The third? Well—” Something flies against
the window behind me and a splinter of a crack ripples through the room.
“—you already know how to seal the mating process, Deveraux, so why are
you here? Did you want me to tell you that she isn’t your mate, that you’re
merely just an obsessed fool with a hard dick?” Her perfect brow arches.
“You and I both know that isn’t true, Knight.” She pushes up from her chair,
rounding the table and bringing her fingers to my chin. “And so the first one
falls.”

London

I stare back at the spot that just opened up like a vortex and pulled both
of the Knights through. What the fuck? Maybe this is still the effects of
whatever that shit was that was given to us at that party? Maybe it’s truly
fucking with my brain. Deep down, I know that’s not true. Deep down, I
know that what I just saw wasn’t an illusion.
So yeah, what in the actual fuck?!
I throw on a pair of jeans and a small crop top, picking up my phone
and bag. I fly out of my bedroom and pass Ben’s door. Since he didn’t burst
in here when I don’t even know what to call them were fighting, he must
have slept through it, and there’s no point waking him up now. I don’t think
he’ll be able to help me anyway. Shit, the only help I might get here is a
straitjacket. Especially if I tell the wrong person. Not that Ben is the wrong
person, because he isn’t. But even he has his boundaries.
On my way to the crystal shop, because it’s literally the only place I
can think to go right now, I replay everything I’ve had happen to me over
the past month. The parties, the drugs, the men… all strange. All so strange.
The outside air slaps me in the face and I keep my eyes peeled to the
ground as I try to seek answers from places I’ve never ventured to. Nothing
makes sense. Magic? That doesn’t exist, right? Magic simply doesn’t exist.
I stop walking.
But how the fuck else do I explain what I just saw? How do I explain
not just the fact that there are two Knights, but a damn weird little portal
opening up in my bedroom and both of them stepping through? And why…
oh why…did the pastel of blue and pink that swirled in the middle feel so
damn familiar? Almost the same palette as the cotton candy I get at the
town fair.
But not only that…something inside me ignited. I could feel the flames
of whatever it was licking the insides of my stomach. That’s really the only
way I know how to describe it.
I’m about to round the corner to see if I can pick Jus’s brain, when the
door opens and a girl stops, her eyes on me. She has light blonde hair, blue
eyes, and a small heart-shaped face. She has to be around the same age as
me. Maybe Jus did get laid, and he’s found someone. Finally. Only he’s
definitely punching.
“London, right?” she asks, her head tilting to the side.
My eyes fly behind her. “Yes?”
“I’m Halee! Jus is a friend of mine.”
“Oh, is he in?”
She shakes her head. “No. He’s out. I’m about to go see him, though.
Do you want to join?” She seems friendly enough, and anyone close to Jus
is a decent person.
I follow her back down the path I came, trying not to fill the silence
with empty conversations.
“Hmmm, someone has left you with questions,” she hints, and I shift
my feet to face her.
“What?” I don’t think she knows me enough to make that assumption,
but I allow her to elaborate.
“I can smell it.” Her nose crinkles as she folds her arms in front of
herself, her Prada puffer jacket expanding further. “It’s strong.”
Smell. She can smell my confusion?
Can she smell how much more confused her little omission has me?
 “What school do you go to?” Maybe she goes to the same one Knight
and Jus go to, and I can pluck the answers I want out of her. She seems like
a much easier target than Knight.
She side-eyes me, the corner of her cherry gloss lips turning upward in a
smile. “The same as Justice…” She pauses. “…and Knight.”
I stop walking, my hand reaching out to her arm. “Wait, you know
him?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, we all do. Why?” She studies me closely, and I hate
the way I find myself getting lost in her eyes. Almost like a form of déjà vu,
where I’d seen her before, only I haven’t. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice
girl, but the Deveraux—well, anyone—are not what you’re looking for. I’d
keep all of that to this side of the world.”
“What do you mean?” I blink up at her.
She flashes me a full-tooth smile. “Do you know what? How about I
take you to a place where I know Knight will be?”
I follow her down the path, unease sliding into my veins. I don’t know
who this girl is and she could be taking me anywhere. Reaching into my
pocket, I pull out my phone and open a text to Jus.
Me: Where r u? I’m with your friend.

I ’ .

J : I’ .W ?

M I I’
myself into some bullshit, and now I need to dig my way out.
“Hey, so I think I’m going to head back.”
 “Don’t be silly.” She stops, holding my stare. “You want to come with
me.” Her tone is forceful, her pupils dilating. I blink back slowly as
everything around me turns to slo-mo.
I shake my head out of my daze. “No, I’m good. Nice meeting you!” I
don’t bother to watch as she blinks past her shock. I turn and pick up the
pace back to Jus. Holy fuck, what is happening this morning?
I think of going to see Jus, at the least to ask who the fuck that chick
was, but instead, turn the other direction to make my way home. I shouldn’t
have left this morning. That’s where I went wrong, and now I kind of just
want my best friend.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and without looking, I swipe to answer
the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lo.” At the sound of his voice, all of my muscles relax and I blow
out a deep breath. Everything that’s been going on around me lately, I
almost forgot about him. Not likely.
“Hey, Unc!” I don’t bother looking over my shoulder to see if the weird
girl is following me. Cocooned in the safety of my uncle, I know I’m good
here.
Happy.
Safe.
Protected.
“Just checking in on you, baby girl. How’s college treating you? You
find a major yet?”
I sigh, pushing the elevator button to take me to my level.
“Not yet. I hope so soon. How is everything back home?”
“Eh.” I can imagine him shrugging his big shoulders. “Same old. Mr.
Kent finally lost his license. The old fuck running too many red lights in
town.”
 I giggle, stepping into the elevator and pushing our level. “Well, I guess
that’ll save a few lives.” He goes off about work and how many people are
moving away from Sunshine Valley. It’s a small town nestled away in the
mountains, and despite the name, it’s always doom and gloom.
“What about you?” he asks, and I toss my handbag onto the kitchen
counter, changing ears.
“Uneventful. Ben has been keeping me busy.”
“So you’ve been partying?” he asks, and I smirk into my bottle of
water.
“Something like that.”
“Alright, well, I better let you go. Don’t leave it too long this time,
Lon.”
“I promise.” I hang up my phone and place it onto the counter. Breathe
in. Breathe out. My uncle is my safe space and has been since my parents
passed.
When people find out my mom and dad are dead, they pity me,
assuming I didn’t have all I needed as a girl, but they’re wrong. Nobody
needs parents. What they need is someone in their corner, always and no
matter what. I had that. I have that.
My uncle Marcus has been there my whole life and he was more than
enough. He loved me with the same volume any child would have with both
of their parents. I never asked questions. I guess I didn’t want him to think
that he wasn’t enough. I figured he would tell me more about my mom and
dad eventually, when he was ready. All he had said about my parents’ death
was it was tragic, and that one word was enough for me not to want to
know more. I mean, for what? So I could think of all the ways it could have
been avoided, if there are any?
Who does that help?
“You okay?” Ben asks, rounding the kitchen with nothing but a pair of
briefs on. Tight enough to see the outline of his dick. That I have seen
often.
“Like, can you stop walking around like a slut?” I gesture around his
body.
He flashes me a full-tooth smile. “No?”
The sight of his smile, or maybe the sight of him in general, has parts of
me relaxing when I feel anything but calm. The problem is, I have no idea
what to say.
I can’t exactly pop off with, “Hey, so Knight broke into our dorm room,
fucked me into a frenzy where I may or may not have seen literal stars
exploding all around us, left, and then I woke up with him on top of me
again, only to find out, it wasn’t actually him, but a twin brother I didn’t
even know he had…who I may or may not have been screwing around with
this entire time, who also may not be his twin at all, but some weird freaky
magical doppelgänger shit like in The Vampire Diaries when that brunette
bitch pops out of nowhere and ruins everything. Oh, and speaking of good
old TVD, I’m pretty sure I saw some sharp ass teeth come out to play , and I
definitely saw a giant fucking glowing circle they just…walked on
through!”
Oh my fucking god, I am crazy. Actually fucking crazy.
Technically, I could say all of that to Ben. He wouldn’t fault me for it
and he would never judge. Check my temperature and ask what I’m on, yes,
but not judge.
And unless one of the Knights kissed me with some sort of acid on their
tongues, I’m painfully sober and some freaky shit is going on here.
“Lon?”
I blink. “Hmm?”
Ben cocks his head. “I said you sure you’re good? I was about to head
to the shower, but I can stay.”
“No, no. Go.” I clear my throat. “I’m good.”
“Yeah?”
 No. “Yeah.”
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t believe me, but he nods anyway, tossing his
towel over his shoulder and kissing my temple before he walks out the door.
I run to the couch and plop onto it, quickly searching the video app for
a specific movie. I hit play, only to fast-forward through most of it until I
get to the scene I’m looking for.
Storm’s eyes glow a solid white as she calls on her X-Men shit and
lightning flashes around her.
X-Men are fake, right? Just like bloodsucking beings?
My fingers fly to my lips, trailing over the small tough spot from
where…
From where he bit me.
The day on the trail comes back to me, and I look to my palm.
My palm that mysteriously healed after Silver touched it, but that’s not
what has my pulse in my throat.
That day, Knight licked my palm clean, his tongue taking with it every
drop of red that glittered it, gravel and all.
I’m a monster, Little London…
His heady whisper fills my head, and I shudder as fear buries itself in
my belly.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
 Twenty

K night

I I . I ’ . W
step I take, I hold my breath. I need to see her. Pull her in closer. Even if I
have to tear her open from the outside and remove all her parts to figure
them out.
I will.
Over and over, I will.
“You need to chill the fuck out.” Sin catches up to me, and I turn to
blink at my twin brother, annoyed that he’s in my face right now.
“Sin, beware…every time I see you right now, I want to knock your
fucking teeth out.”
“Chill!” He throws his hands up. “We get it. She’s your mate.”
Fuck. He said it.
They see it.
My brows dip low and I shake my head.
“Not possible,” I say through clenched teeth.
Sinner’s head tips. “Bro—”
“It’s something else,” I cut him off. Has to be.
 Much to my disgust, he continues to follow me through the school and
out toward the catacombs. I need some fucking drugs to chill me out. Or
just a full-blown blood party.
I like the latter better.
As if it wasn’t bad enough facing Sin right now, Creed suddenly appears
at our side.
“Okay, let’s think…” Creed stops me before I can continue my venture.
My eyes flick between my two brothers. “This a fucking intervention?”
“Nah,” Creed says, shifting to his other foot. “It’s a party invite.”
“The Dungeon blew up.”
“Then it was fixed.” Creed waves his hands in front of him. He knows
that’s not what I mean. He knows that I mean someone blew the fucking
thing up and we still don’t know who.
All of our phones ding in our pockets and we take them out. I open the
latest message and my stomach falls to the fucking ground. Fuck. I miss the
days where we would never hear from any of our parents. Coming to this
school was clearly a fucking mistake.
Mother: There’s been a breach.
“What is she fucking talking about?” Legend asks, bouncing a
basketball with one hand and holding his phone with his other. The trail of
girls behind him all stay their distance. “Maybe she’s lying.”
“Sure. About what?” I glare at him. “What could she possibly lie about
just to get us on edge?”
Another message comes in.
Mother: We need all of you home. Something is happening and we
need you safe.
Safe? Is she fucking insane? I hit call and bring my phone to my ear.
“Mother?”
“Knight, please. You all must come back to Rathe immediately.” I look
to Legend and then to Creed.
 Mother doesn’t use the word please often, if ever.
“You saw something again?”
She pauses. “Yes. I did.”
Fuck.
When my brothers and I were a lot younger, a few hundred years ago,
our mother once told us that she would never use her gift as a way to
manipulate us. We believed her.
Until we were old enough to realize that Mother will always put Father
first.
“I’ve gotta go.” I end the call and shove my phone back into my
pocket.
“What’d she say?” Legend asks, watching me carefully while going
back to bouncing the ball between his legs.
“She wants us home now.”
“The season’s in full fucking swing.” Creed frowns. “We can’t leave,
Coach will lose his mind if he’s out one Lord, let alone all four. Why’s she
freaking out?”
“Like always, she gave an order and nothing else. She’s hiding
something. I can feel it.”
“Since when could you feel anything through a phone?” Sinner spits,
still angry with me. “You a High Empath all of a sudden?”
I blink past Sin’s words. What the fuck is he talking about?
“We could fuck a Pixie? Take what we want and let her drown us in Fae
dust?”
Legend nods in agreement, looking to me.
“Yeah.” My voice scratches and I swallow. “Let’s do that.”
I feel Creed poking at the block in my mind, but it’s lighter than normal,
almost like the wind rolling over your cheeks in the city of Frost,
featherlight and seemingly unthreatening even though you know there’s
power in the air. I’ve been able to keep Creed out as long as I can
remember. I’m sure he was stronger to penetrate my mind when I was little,
but not now. Magic doesn’t wither with age; it grows like an unrelenting
vine until eventually, it strangles you to death. I glance his way to find him
scowling at me, but he faces forward when our eyes meet.
So my older brother realizes it too, how much harder he has to work to
even attempt to slip through. I can’t let him in there now, not when I started
the mating process without fucking realizing it.
As we reach the entrance to the catacombs, the blood suckers are
already in party mode, Healers on standby while they prep their meals with
persuasion and Mage-kissed elixirs.
The Pixie appears then, having wasted no time running to a royal’s call.
She stands maybe fifteen feet ahead, at the edge of the blue flames
barricading in the feeding party, and without so much as moving a finger,
the tie to her robe begins to unravel, the deep green silk falling to her feet
the moment my feet plant themselves before her.
She’s completely naked with Sin circling her back. He whispers
something in her ear and her head falls to the side.
My eyes slice to the creamy caramel slope of her neck, my tongue
rolling across my lower lip as I trace her pulse, the thump, thump, thumping
growing harsh the longer she waits for me to make a move. Or maybe it’s
the way Legend’s hands have snuck their way between her thighs.
I’m fucking starved, aching for a fucking meal that will satisfy, knowing
in the back of my mind nothing will.
Never again will I be satisfied by the taste of another, now that I’ve
tasted what’s meant to be mine.
A low growl stirs in my chest.
No.
I fight back. She can’t be mine.
She’s not Gifted.
She will grow old.
 She will die.
The Pixie jumps and I look down to find long, sharp claws have torn
through my fingertips, shredding the skin there. Blood drips from the tips as
the skin slowly heals itself around them, sealing them off into perfectly
wrapped points.
I feel my brothers’ gaze on me because yeah, this is fucking new.
“Deveraux,” she breathes.
Deveraux. Not Knight or Sinner because she has no fucking clue whose
chest her bare body is touching, no clue who she’s offering herself to. She
doesn’t know and she doesn’t fucking care.
Creed steps up then, wrapping his fist in the Pixie’s short hair and
giving it a little tug.
She moans and the sound has my lip curling.
Creed’s eyes find mine as he lowers his mouth to the left side of her
neck, silently telling me to do the same. To get lost in the free pass before
me and out of my fucking head.
I jerk closer until the girl’s naked body is flush against mine, dropping
my lips to her neck. My teeth ache, so I press them into her artery and hot
liquid erupts over my tongue.
My chest rumbles wildly and I fight a fucking scream when a sharp
sting stabs into my fucking mind, like talons of a griffin digging into my
skull, attempting to tear it from my body. I rip myself away with a gasp,
stumbling from the group, from my brothers and the Pixie who tastes like
rotten flesh. I trip over my own fucking feet, falling to my knees, and growl
angrily as bile works its way up my throat.
I heave and spit and throw myself to my feet.
I hear my brothers coming, but I quickly snap my fingers and jump
through the marbly haze, closing the portal before my brothers can jump
through.
This is all her fucking fault.
 I hate her.
I hate how fucking bad I need to see her.
Touch her.
Fucking taste her.
I’m not convinced the gods got it right, that they would gift me, a
fucking Deveraux royal, with a weak little woman who will die some
mundane death as humans do, but for now, that’s where I am.
At the mercy of a partial bond and everyone knows partial bonds make
you fucking mad with need. Every kind of it, but the worst of it all is this
unspeakable determination to protect and un-fucking-natural desire to love
and earn love right back.
I don’t want to protect anyone but my blood.
I don’t have to earn anyone, and I don’t want to love.
I don’t even know how to love.
I love my brothers, yes, but this is not the same.
Nothing will ever be the same again, my mind screams, and I tell that
bitch to shut the fuck up.
I will get to the bottom of this.
Figure out where the gods and fate went wrong.
But first, I need to set eyes on her.
No, I have to set eyes on her, like a weak bitch the deeper part of me,
the part that’s almost clawed its way to the surface, has become.
That part of me is supposed to be demonic and cutthroat, painfully,
unforgivingly fucking ruthless, yet it wants to crawl after a little nobody,
and drop to its knees before her like she’s the superior being. She isn’t.
She’s destroying me by existing and I fucking hate her for it.
If only I wasn’t unequivocally obsessed with her, too…
 Twenty-One

L ondon

I’ .L … .
I locked myself in my room and scoured the internet, but people there
are crazier than I feel, so I shut that shit down quick and stuck to the basics.
Harry fucking Potter.
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m pretty sure that giant glowy
thing Knight and creeper Knight stepped through was a portal of some sort.
As in magic. Real fucking magic!
Tingles break across my skin, my fingers shaking at the thought, but I
steady my wrist and finish putting on my mascara.
When finished, I toss everything into my bag and shove it back under
the sink before gripping on to its edges.
I stare at my reflection, as I do for a moment each morning, usually
wondering and waiting for a sign of significance to show itself, for answers
to unknown questions to pop up and for my life to suddenly make half the
sense Ben’s does to him.
Of course, that doesn’t happen, but there is something…different.
 That hollow place that lived inside me as a child, the one I blocked out
and pushed deep, deep down, it’s back, but it’s not the same. While it’s just
as eager to find whatever the hell it’s been looking for, creating this knot of
anxiousness behind my ribs, there’s also this strange softness there, almost
like silk wrapped around a sleeping child. It’s almost as if my subconscious
has been soothed; the overwhelming urgency I used to feel as a little girl
gone, and in its place, patience. I don’t understand it, but I don’t understand
a whole lot these days.
If I weren’t fascinated with crystals and obsessed with the moon and the
stars, and the light and darkness, and the way my mood shifts based on the
weather and so many more elemental and earthly things, I would probably
be strapped down in an insane asylum somewhere right about now.
But as I take a step back, looking over my sleek-straight hairstyle for
the day, black strapless top, and leather pants to match, my eyes find their
way up to the mirror once more.
It’s not only the feelings within me that seem to have shifted.
My eyes are a little lighter blue, more the color of ice than water, but it
has to be the lighting or the massive black wing I gave myself today.
My hair seems somehow lighter, the platinum nearly frost-white, but
again, that must be the lighting.
But then, there’s my skin.
It’s clearer. Sort of flawless looking…but maybe that makeup tutorial I
watched last week just finally paid off.
“Ready?” Ben calls from the other side of the door.
Sighing, I paint my lips the deepest purple I can find and then tear the
door open.
Ben’s brows lift, but he says nothing. He’s well aware of what I like to
call my mood montages. “Ready.”
We walk in mostly silence, him checking shit on his phone, me half lost
in my mind, and out in the fresh open air, things that wouldn’t click when
locked in my room fall together.
Witchy shit or not, the “Knights” are twins.
Identical twins, not some hallucination or mirrored X-Men power shit—
jury is still out on the white eyes.
My senses have never led me astray, and if I were paying attention, I
wouldn’t have been duped by Knight. The boys, they couldn’t be more
different, kiss more differently. They even speak differently.
But, yes, the twisted two did both kiss and touch me, and the twin, that
little shit, was really careful with his “tell me you want me”, but not so
much so the night of the party. The twin finger-fucked me on his brother’s
lap, admittedly driving me crazy with need, and then they pulled their little
switch-hitter game without my having a clue. Legend tucked my head into
his warm neck, allowing Knight to yank him off me, and then Knight tore
me away to claim my orgasm as his own, but his twin did do all the lead-up
work. Playful little deviant. Dare I say, he’s less scary than Knight.
He’s less everything…
A frown pulls at my brows and I rub my arms when they prickle with
goose bumps, though I’m not sure what’s caused them, the thought of his
gentle yet strong hands on my throat while he fucks me stupid or the
thought of him possibly choking me out until I’m dead at his feet.
You’re a fucking mess, London, Jesus.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand then, and I whip around, feeling
eyes on me, but no one is there, and when I face forward, Ben is before me.
“I’m meeting that Alex chick tonight, just FYI, so I’m not sure when I’ll
be back.” He stuffs his phone into his pocket.
My pulse jumps at the name. Alex. She’s from their world, and those
two worlds no longer mean rich ass kids in a fancy fucking private college.
“Sure you don’t want to blow her off?”
Ben smirks, kissing my temple, and heads toward the arena for hockey
practice. “I’ll call you if plans change.”
 “K,” I say, even though he’s already gone as I tug my bag higher on my
shoulder.
I curve through campus, making my way to the coffee shop since I have
a few extra minutes, but with each turn I take or shortcut around the large
cement buildings, my pulse jumps into my throat, my heart beating faster
and my palms beginning to sweat.
My fist tightens around my bag and I jerk my head over my shoulder,
but again no one is there.
I clench my teeth together and speed walk around the last corner, cutting
back into the main quad area, jerking to a stop when I see Trevor walking
this way.
He’s yet to spot me, so I try to cut back the other way, but his head pops
up before I can. His eyes narrow on my outfit before he forces a smile and
starts jogging for me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, picking up my pace.
“Lon, wait up!”
“Can’t, sorry, running late!”
His footsteps grow nearer. “No, you’re not. I know your schedule,
remember? Can’t lie to me, Lon.” He chuckles, but it’s fake. He’s pissed
that he’s being dismissed. Good.
Pissed I’ve been ignoring him for weeks now, but my god, can a boy
not take a hint?
“Okay, so how’s this… I don’t want to talk to you, Trevor. So, if you
would, please kindly, fuck off.”
“Hooking up with some rich kids going to your head, I see.”
I jerk to a stop, spinning around and stepping into his space, which is
annoying, as it’s exactly what he wants. His smirk is all-telling, even if he is
attempting to hide his anger.
“The only thing going to my head is a dick three times the size of yours,
so if you want to sit here and throw childish fits and insults, I’m game. I’ll
go first. I was glad when I found out you cheated because that meant your
lackluster cock was now someone else’s problem and I didn’t have to be the
one to tell you to invest in some Viagra and maybe a pump or two.”
Trevor’s hand wraps around my bicep. Something explodes behind my
ribs, causing my chest to jerk, but I swallow beyond it, yanking against his
hold.
He’s relentless. His lip curls up. “Do you really think some trust fund
kids think you’re worth any more than an easy lay?”
“As long as they think I’m a good one.” I manage to tear myself from
his arm, shoving his chest slightly for messing around, and hurrying in the
café doors.
A gust of wind comes out of nowhere, flows in behind me, blowing my
hair in my face, and I swear it acts as a tornado, yet soft as it whirls around
me once. The tension leaves my body instantly, and I spin around to see if
Trevor’s following, and my jaw drops at the sight.
Trevor is on his knees, blood pouring down his face, his nose busted
and split open, but there’s no one around.
Moments after I notice, others begin to as well, and people rush to his
aid.
My brows pull and I step up to the glass door, pressing my hand against
it as I stare, my mind reeling, and then heat presses back at my palm,
warmth wrapping around my fingers and down my arm until it penetrates
beyond my skin.
My stomach erupts with a million little lightning bugs, their wings
tickling and teasing from within, and a small smile forms on my lips before
I can stop it.
When I lower my hand, my print slowly fades from the glass, but as I
take a step back, a larger one stares back at me.
I suck in a sharp breath, pressing my hand to my chest. My eyes flick
beyond it, to find Trevor being carried away by a campus cart, and when I
look back, the print is gone.
Suddenly, I’m hit with a crippling wave of loneliness.
It’s irrational, yes, but it’s real. Strong.
Unsettling.
I need my fucking coffee.

Y ,
least, be entertaining, only it’s nothing but lecture after lecture of an old
man voicing his opinion rather than anything else, so to say I’m dreading
the hour and fifty minutes of nonsense is an understatement.
I decide to down an extra shot of espresso at the café to help settle my
nerves. So what I am looking forward to doing is slowly sipping on my
extra-large, hot latte and getting lost in the nutty, sweet flavor, while
ignoring every word spoken by the middle-aged man who needs to stop
dying his hair by himself. At this rate, I’ll be kicked out of the university
before next semester. I’m going to have to suck it up and ask Ben for some
hardcore tutoring if I want to have even the slimmest of chances in meeting
the bare minimum allowed GPA required to keep the scholarship I
somehow landed here. Honestly, that’s probably the biggest
accomplishment I’ll ever reach, and that’s pathetic.
Lowering onto my seat, I kick my boot out in hopes that no one will
decide to sit in front of me; but even though I choose the very last row at
the very top of the auditorium-style seating, nearly all the way against the
wall, it doesn’t work, and some guy drops into the chair. Why? I don’t
know. He’s wearing glasses, and while my vision is damn good, even I can
hardly make out the lines of a man sitting at the desk below.
It doesn’t take long for all the students to arrive, and then the doors slam
closed, our professor pushing to his feet with his nifty little headset that
looks like it belonged to a telemarketer fifteen years ago.
“Today, we’ll be going over chapters fourteen to seventeen, so please
pull out your notes and—”
He’s cut off when the door nearest him is thrown open, and I nearly
choke on my drink at the man who walks inside.
I jerk upright, lowering my paper cup to the small tray beside me, my
eyes flicking all around the room, searching every other entrance and
snapping back up front, over and over again.
None other than what I guess is the oldest brother, Creed is his name
, saunters over to the professor with an air of confidence no man, especially
one as hot as him, should possess.
The professor looks annoyed, moving forward and with jerky steps, but
then he holds his movements all at once. I watch Creed closely as his lips
move, and the professor’s spine straightens.
Creed lowers his chin, and the professor walks around him…straight
out the door.
I sit back slowly, sinking lower and lower into my seat, hoping maybe if
I make myself small or hit the ground completely, he won’t see me, but then
his eyes slice up, locking with mine.
My throat runs dry, but I try to hide the way my limbs begin to shake
by lifting my coffee and sitting firm in my seat.
On the outside, I hope I look completely unaffected, almost annoyed by
his presence. If the way his lips curl to one side tells me anything, I’m not
fooling anyone.
Well, not fooling the guy who may or may not be a mythical being of
some sort.
If they are magic, what could they be?
“Welcome,” Creed’s deep voice booms across the lecture hall, despite
his lack of a microphone. “I will be leading the class today.”
 Unease wraps around me, but I can’t deny the way I perk up. I guess
since there is no hiding, I’m all for this little visit, even if I’m almost sure it
has a fuck ton to do with little old me.
“Everyone face forward. I want your eyes on mine.” He walks closer
toward the rows of students, very slowly looking from one seat to the next.
He doesn’t skip a single soul, and when his eyes reach me, he winks.
My throat runs dry and I wait until he turns away to swallow.
“I am not here,” he says. “You’re in Psychology 101, which is a pathetic
excuse for a class, in my opinion, but we won’t get into that.” My jaw
drops, and I look around, but no one else seems to be reacting to his shitty
words, so I focus on him once again.
His dark hair is combed and styled, but intending to look a little messy.
I can’t see his scar from here, but I know he has one just over his eye. His
jeans fit him well, as does the dark hoodie he wears, the sleeves pushed up
almost to his elbows, and I remember the way his veins are pronounced on
his long forearms from when he cornered me at the party.
The party with floating fucking people, and floating fires and—
Wait.
Fae dust.
Holy fucking shit! FAE DUST?!
Like, actually Fae??
I’m instantly picturing these beautiful beings with colorful makeup and
wings, and I’m probably so far off it’s insane. But I mean, is it really far off
when two days ago I would have sworn they were nothing but a fairy-tale
creature from FernGully, or are fairies and Fae not the same?
Jesus fucking Christ, am I seriously searching for logic here?
The friend, Silver, he seemed odd when he saw me with it, almost
shocked it was in my hands.
Was I not supposed to touch it?
Was it supposed to be hidden?
 “Hold your left arm up,” Creed demands and every hand in the room
lifts into the air. “If you are in an even numbered row, turn around and face
the person behind you.”
All at once, bodies twist in their seats, hands still lifted in the air like a
bunch of fucking weirdos.
The kid in front of me spins, and my eyes narrow on him as his are
blown wide, unblinking.
“Slap them,” Creed instructs.
My head jerks up. “What the fuck?”
A cold hand comes down across my cheek and I jolt to my feet, my
gaze flying around as the sound of flesh smacking against flesh rings out in
unison, catching heads whipping to the side as these people do exactly as
they are told.
I press my fingers to my cheek, vaguely aware my thigh is burning from
hot coffee as I stumble through bodies, scanning the room.
No one is freaking out. They just sit there deathly fucking still.
I’m literally the only one not stuck on stupid.
Creed’s laughter rings out and I freeze, looking to him.
He shakes his head. “Immune to my control, Little London,” he says.
I blink when he appears directly in front of me.
My heart leaps into my throat as his eyes begin to change, growing
cloudy like his brother’s had, until there is nothing left but a marbly white,
the pupils nowhere to be seen.
He cocks his head. “What are you hiding?”
I inch backward and he keeps coming up the stairs, the entire room
oblivious to the two of us, still spun in their seats, staring at one another.
“What am I hiding?” A humorless, panicky laugh leaves me. “What the
fuck are you people hiding?” I run a few feet, almost at the door, but I whip
around when I feel the heat of his body, my legs locking once again when
suddenly he’s right fucking there. “What the hell are you?!”
 A shiver runs down my spine a mere second before heated lips press to
my ear.
My entire body shivers, my muscles growing lax without permission as
I fall against the man at my back.
“I told you what I am, my plaything.”
“Knight,” I breathe, frowning when my words create a fog before me,
like speaking into the winter’s night when your every breath leaves you as
if releasing smoke into the air. “What the fuck is happening to me?” I ask
out loud.
A steady arm wraps around me, and I cling to it without meaning to.
The chest against me rumbles the second I accept his support, and my
eyes travel down. His large hand presses to my stomach, fingers spreading
wide, and then blood seeps from the beds of his fingernails, and panic
wraps around my every organ, squeezing.
A bloodcurdling scream tears from me, and suddenly, voices fill the air,
people look around, and the brothers curse.
I shove away, running down the hall, tripping over people and
squeezing my way through. I don’t stop.
I fucking run until I can’t breathe and am safely in my dorm. I take the
stairs all the way up, tearing into my room and slamming the door closed.
“Please be home, please be home…” Dashing for Ben’s room, I throw
the door open.
I jerk when I find the back of a girl’s head, her naked body riding my
best friend, her blonde hair flowing down her back.
She looks over her shoulder, smiling at me, eyes glowing before she
blinks.
“Hey.” She smiles. “Wanna join?”
My heart beats erratically, my body shaking as I plaster it to the wall,
slowly sliding into the room until I can get a view of Ben’s face.
 My brows snap together and I dart for the bed. “Oh my god!” I scream,
looking at her. “What did you do?!” I shout, shaking Ben’s pale form, his
eyes glued to the ceiling and wide open.
Tears prick my eyes as I shake him and Alex sighs.
“Why are humans so dramatic?” she mutters to herself.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I scream, staring as she unscrews her
necklace, the only thing she has on, her tits on full display, not that she
cares.
“This will be but a memory in a moment, sweet London, and who
knows, maybe you’ll want to play with us once you’re nice and dosed.”
“I’m right fucking here.” I jerk forward, shoving at her, but she bends
like the fucking exorcist and blows glitter in my face.
I choke as it lands in my mouth and then Ben starts gurgling.
I spin but then I freeze. He’s not gurgling, he’s…moaning and thrusting
up into her, her own sounds of pleasure following.
“What in the actual fuck?”
Ben blinks, his head jerking toward me and his eyes widen. “Shit, Lon,
what are you doing?”
“I…” My mind races. “I…” I shake my head.
A spark flickers in the air and I stare, wide-eyed, as that same fucking
vortex appears, and in he steps.
Ben jolts upright in the bed. “What the fu—”
The blue-eyed bastard flings a hand out, and suddenly Ben is a statue,
Alex still on his dick.
All four brothers file into Ben’s room and I start to shake.
Alex laughs and I snap.
“Get the fuck off him!” I scream so loud I feel a blood vessel pop in my
neck.
“Get the fuck away from him,” Knight growls.
 I jerk closer, gripping Ben’s arm as if to protect him, and Knight nearly
flies over the bed, his brothers holding him back as his limbs shake.
Fear swallows me whole and I feel around, coming up with the award
Ben got for his top-notch performance on the ice last year.
They all shift closer and I slam it against the dresser, my hand bleeding
as it shatters into pieces.
A growl rips from Knight’s throat and he tears free, leaping over the bed
as I fall to my knees, scrambling back to pick up the largest piece.
He’s in my face as I push to my feet, cornering me.
His lip curls and he presses closer; they all do. Alex suddenly nowhere
to be seen.
“Please,” I whisper, tears falling from my eyes.
Without thought, I swipe at my cheeks, my blood-smeared hand
streaking across my face, small shards of glass cutting my skin. I wince and
Knight’s eyes flash white as sharp points appear below his upper lip,
stabbing straight into his bottom lip.
I scream and he jerks toward me. Throwing my hand out, I shove the
sharp glass straight into his neck, pressing it deeper with all my might. I
feel the bones in his neck crunch as I plunge deeper and deeper.
Blood spills from his wound, pouring over my fingers, and he makes a
gurgling sound, choking on his own blood as it seeps from his mouth.
He falls to his knees, his eyes wide on mine as his hands try desperately
to close the cut. Oh my god. What have I done?
His brothers panic as they take his side. “No!” one screams.
“Knight!” another shouts.
“Someone help!” the last yells. “She fucking killed him!”
I begin to shake, bellowing cries escaping me as I stare down at the
man.
They scream and shout and lift his limp body in their arms, barking
orders at one another, all while Ben is frozen in place.
 “I… I’m so—”
I cut off when not one, but all of the brothers begin to laugh, the sounds
sending chills down my spine.
Confused and sick with a feeling I can’t describe, I search their
expression, but mine freezes on my face when Knight’s dead body is no
longer dead.
Slowly, he pushes to stand, facing me as he tips his head, pulling the
long, sharp glass from his artery. He tosses it at my feet, and I jolt, my
palms planting on the wall because there is nowhere else to go. No escape
to be made.
“Nice try,” he speaks in a tone so deep I swear even my organs shrivel
at the sound. He steps closer, blood all over him as he gets in my face. He
grips my chin, tilting my head all the way up so I’m forced to face him.
“You can’t kill me, but be very fucking careful, mate, because I can…kill
you.”
I gasp in fear, and then everything goes black.
 Twenty-Two

L ondon

C .T
open and I’m staring up at a sky so dark the stars almost blind me. I push
myself up from the ground, facing the familiar bridge. Sharp metal waves
up to the sky like serrated talons before joining to braided wire that
propagates over the road. I lift my foot to take another step when a loud
squawk pierces from behind me.
I turn to see a crow with its head tilted to the side, his eyes on me and
his beak slightly open.
“Hey.” I open my mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. I don’t want to
be here. What if I’m here and that same shadow visits me? Does things to
me? Things I don’t want…
I try to run, lifting my leg from the ground to direct off to a sprint, when
rain touches the tip of my nose and the snow that’s pinched between my toes
turns to sand…and I’m falling.
Quicksand.
I open my mouth to call for help when granules fill it up and the little
light where I came from turns black.
 So black…

M , I ,
obscurity. The rotten egg smell of sulfur is strong, and I twist my body to
the side, swinging my legs over the bed to climb out. What happened last
night? What…everything flashes back through my mind at one hundred
miles an hour. I killed Knight, or I didn’t?
Scrubbing my hands over my eyes, I shake my head, curling my toes
into the plush carpet beneath.
Wait.
I blink, noticing the black rug made of the softest texture I’ve ever felt
in my life…nothing like the cheap carpet in my dorm bedroom.
Where the fuck am I?
The air is humid and sticky. So hot that sweat bubbles on my flesh. I
tiptoe around the four-post bed, bringing my hand to a post and squeezing.
The walls are licked with deep purple and white trimmings, yet everything
feels outdated. As though I’ve stepped right through a time portal and into
another century, maybe one that doesn’t exist yet.
This could be possible, after everything that I’ve witnessed lately. I
move across the room and to the windows, shifting the curtains out of the
way while bringing my hand to rest on my belly. Silk meets my palm and I
look down to see a little camisole dress, the same color as the walls. I
release my hand from the curtain as I spin around to find a mirror. Blinking
through the shock, I take everything in.
A small sofa is tucked in the corner of the room, the two small doors to
the left, and a stairwell that leads down, instead of up. I move toward it and
see the curl go around and around as it falls right to the bottom of the room
below. A single light flickers on and I lean farther over to see what it is
down there when a loud crash sounds from outside. I shuffle back toward
the window, moving the curtain out of the way and my stomach drops to the
ground.
The sky is dark, the color of midnight on a full moon, and the planets
that orbit around the moon don’t look like anything I’ve ever seen. The fact
that I can fucking see the galaxy around us as if it is within literal reach is
about as terrifying as it is mind-blowing.
I blink back the shock and try not to lose myself on the astral side of
things, when I notice movement down below, where a large stretch of grass
spreads out. What the fuck have I been forced into, and why do I get the
feeling it has only just begun?
The door opens from behind me and I jump, spinning around to see who
it is. A tall woman stares back at me through oval eyes. She has long black
hair, a tight, lean body, and nails that look sharp enough to kill.
Her eyes flash the color of crystal and she throws her hand out.
A sharp ache starts in my throat and works its way down. She closes her
fists and my lungs squeeze, the pain crippling and sending me to my knees.
I fight for air, but nothing.
Panic sets in and I grip at my throat, climbing to my feet as water pricks
at my eyes.
The woman cocks her head, and the moment her hand falls to her side, I
collapse, gasping and choking in place.
“What—” She pauses when she scans over my body. “—has he done.”
My mouth opens and then closes. Fear drags its talons down every
nerve in my body when she takes another step closer to me. My fight-or-
flight kicks in and I stumble backward slightly.
“Who are you?” I rush. “Where am I?”
Her eyes narrow, and while it’s clear she’s hostile and confused, there’s
also something else about her. Her aura is strong. The woman reads
almost…haunted, but what or whom, I don’t know.
Where the fuck am I?
 “Hmmm.” She shimmies farther into the room, lowering herself down
onto the single sofa tucked in the corner. She pins me with her stare. “I’m
the mother, and I’m guessing you’re the Giftless toy my son has taken a
liking to.”
“The what?” I bat my lashes so hard they fan out over my cheeks.
She stares back at me as if she’s not going to bother repeating herself.
She doesn’t look like the type of person to repeat herself. “Interesting…”
I step backward farther until my back crashes with the curtain. “What
is?”
“You.” Her eyes swirl as she slowly lifts herself up from the sofa. I
should run. I know I should run. Everything inside of my body is screaming
at me to do one thing. “You should not be in this room.”
Run.
The door bursts open again, and he stands on the threshold. “Get out,
Mother.”
The two of them hold eye contact for a tense moment before she slowly
sashays out of the room, not a second glance over her shoulder, and then the
door is closed.

“W I , K ?” I
slowly leans back against the door.
“Not leaving.”
Unease scrapes across my spine, and I clench my teeth a moment so I
don’t lose my shit.
“What are you?” I ask the question that has been sitting on my mind
since the day he and his brother exposed themselves.
“You ask that like I’m going to tell you.” He moves across the room, his
arm brushing mine when he meets the curtain, moving it out of the way. An
air of comfort washes over me and it makes no sense, so I do my best to
block it out. I’m really good at blocking things out.
“Get comfortable,” he says, tossing a bag onto the bed. “You’ll be
staying here until I say.”
“I’ll run away,” I whisper, inching around to get closer to the door. The
corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk.
“Yeah?” He slowly turns to face me, pinning me with a stare. “Go on
then. Make my day and run.”
I swallow, but it only feels like sand. “I don’t understand, Knight! You
can’t just…keep me here. I have an uncle—friends! I need to go back to
them or they’ll think I’m dead.”
He shrugs. “They still could be right. The night is young and my
patience is yet to be tested.” He closes the distance between us, bringing his
hand to my chin and forcing my face up to his. “They know you’re fine,
London. Sit the fuck down and wait this out.”
My fingers flex at my sides. “Where are we?”
His eyes bore into mine for a long moment, and I almost think he’s
going to soften. That I’m not imagining the tenderness buried deep behind
those brilliant blues, but then he blinks, and just like that, I’m staring into
the eyes of a psycho. An angry one.
“You’re in my world now.” Knight roughly releases my chin. “Welcome
to Rathe.’’
Before I can ask him another question, he’s gone.
Blowing out a breath, I think over my current options.
I don’t have any.
Quickly tearing into the bag he set down, I pull on leggings and a
matching cropped hoodie, sliding my feet into the simple runners as well,
ignoring how everything is exactly the right size.
I rush to the other side of the room, my hand coming to the handle.
Twisting it, I feel it slip as I pull it open. In a matter of a month, my world
has completely shifted. I don’t know what is right and what is left. Up or
down.
Real or not real…
What’s crazy? I scoff a laugh.
God, everything is fucking crazy at the moment, but what feels the
strangest is the fact that all this? Doesn’t feel so strange or crazy at all. It’s
intriguing.
I look around, from the ceiling with roaring thunder and bright
lightning, to the fountain in the center of the room, the water gently spurting
upward, but then curling into a beautiful swan. Its head shifts, looking from
right to left, its wings spanning wide and stealing my breath. I move closer,
reaching out to touch the water droplets, but just before my fingers reach it,
a harsh spray of water rises from the stone below, taking the shape of a
snake. My heart beats a little faster as it shows its fangs. The swan sees it
coming and flails, but it’s too slow, and the snake sinks its teeth into its
neck.
I gasp, and then the water crashes back into the stone circle, slowly
rising once more.
I blink and blink again, pressing my hand to my chest.
Get a fucking grip, London. It’s water, for fuck’s sake!
“Bad ass, right?”
I jerk around at the intruding voice, afraid of being caught wandering by
the wrong person. But this is not the wrong person.
I glare.
Dark hair and blue eyes shine back at me. “Thought I told you to get
comfortable.”
“I’m not very good at doing what I’m told.” I push closer until my chest
is pressed to his abs, my head tipping all the way back to keep my eyes on
his.
 He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his thumb coming up to run along
mine. “Such a pretty human, you are…do you want me to kiss you, little
toy?” he rasps. “Take you back to your room and fuck you ’til you can’t
walk?”
I push up on my toes, stretching my neck, and he understands, giving
me his ear. “I think it’s exactly what I need to relax.”
He groans, his hands finding my hips.
“It’s just…” I pause. “I’m not really interested in fucking someone
whose name I don’t know, especially when I’ve already fucked his twin.”
Fake Knight tenses then flies back, eyes narrowed but mouth hung
open.
I cross my arms, popping my hip out. “Don’t look so shocked.”
“Nah, baby girl…I’m fucking shocked!” He looks me over like I’m the
fucking crazy one. “No one, and I mean no fucking one, can tell us
apart. Not even our parents. That’s what these are for.” He lifts his shirt,
flashing me his abs where a burn mark flashes opal. “It’s these or dipping
into our heads when we allow it.”
A frown builds over my brow. First, because of what he’s trying to tell
me, and second, dip inside their heads?!
“Oh my god, can you read my mind?”
His smirk is instant. “I could tell you, but I think it will be more fun for
you to figure all this shit out on your own. You know, before we wipe it all
from your mind.”
A strange sense of dread slithers down my spine, and I fold my toes in
my shoes. “You can do that?”
“Don’t look so sad about it.” He chuckles and then cocks his head. “You
know, this is kind of fun, having a Giftless here. It’s not like what I thought
it would be.”
There’s that word again.
“Thought about kidnapping lots of people, have you?”
 “Yes.” He smiles wider. “And I always imagined the way they’d run and
scream, cry and beg for mercy. Done it a couple times.” He shrugs. “It’s
always pretty entertaining, but your world is boring and illusions are
nothing compared to the shit in Rathe.”
“Wait, so it’s normal for you guys to just kidnap girls?”
“We always put them back,” he says as if it’s totally normal and nothing
more than a game they play when they’re bored.
But hold up…
“So—”
“No.” He chuckles, cutting me off. “We will not be putting you back. Or
honestly, I don’t know what we’ll be doing with you. You’re kind of a freak
of nature to us at the moment, but I know my brother enough to know your
pretty little ass isn’t going anywhere until he does. You’re his favorite toy
right now, his little doll, so where he goes, you’ll go.”
Favorite toy as in he has more than one? Do I care?
The heat in my chest says I do.
What a fucking fool you are, London. Falling for a possible literal
monster. Uncle Marcus will be so proud.
I could roll my eyes at myself so hard right now.
“If I tried to walk past you, are you going to stop me?”
“Did Knight erase your door?” He lifts a brow, clearly already knowing
the answer.
I ignore the ‘erase’ comment and shake my head. “Obviously not.”
“Then he doesn’t care where you go. It’s not like you can escape. He’ll
find you no matter what.”
“I’m a hide-and-seek champ.”
“And he is made of dark magic.”
Not just magic. Dark magic.
Fuck my life.
 Swallowing, I move past him and the hall widens, the wall at the end
blurring before a door appears. I pause, looking over my shoulder.
The twin winks at me. “Figured I’d save you from the fate of walking
down to find Mother having her afternoon drink. No telling what she might
do.”
“Thanks, I guess.” I face forward again.
“Sin.”
“What?” I turn once more.
“My name.” He watches me closely. “It’s Sinner.”
I don’t know why, but I find myself fighting a smile. “Well, isn’t that
fitting.”
His grin is devilish, and this time a low laugh leaves me.
Just as I reach the door, he shouts, “Careful, London. You can walk our
streets, but don’t forget you don’t know our realm. Everyone here, even the
Ordinaries, are superior to you in every way. You are the mouse. Everyone
else is the snake.”
I don’t turn to face him.
I walk out the door.
 Twenty-Three

K night

M I
door closed, needing to put distance between London and me. I think. Did I
want distance? Fuck knows what I want lately. Only… even as that thought
passes through my mind, I know the answer to that question. I don’t want
distance. I want her.
Her.
I want her.
I stare down at the news alert on my phone from Rathe Daily.
Explosions have been reported from outside of a downtown nightclub.
Unconfirmed reports are that it was a Deveraux Club and that there have
been multiple fatalities.
“Fuck.” I shove my phone into my pocket as a portal splits the space in
front of me and Legend steps out, nudging his head back in.
“Now. We gotta go now.”
I follow him through as we’re transported to city central, right outside
Blood and Sugar. The city is crawling with bystanders, all watching the
flames burn through the air and up to the dark night sky.
I don’t need to shove people out of the way because they part when they
see me walking toward one of the chief officers. Can’t remember his name.
Law enforcement are here to make everyone feel safe. They don’t mean shit
to us and our family.
“Son, not a good idea. You know we’ll contact you when we find
anything.” He shoves his stubby finger into his pocket. Gremlins really are
fucking ugly. Even from here. His long nose, large wart, and beady black
eyes. As weird as they look on the outside, and oddly dark, they make the
best officers.
I stare up at the old castle-like building, before coming back to him.
“Fine. But I need answers by tomorrow.” Leaving London at the house was
probably the dumbest shit I could have done in regard to my mother
prowling through the bedrooms like a fucking starved lioness, but I needed
to handle whatever the fuck was going on here. I step backward, reaching
into my pocket for my phone and hit dial on my father’s contact . The
streets of Rathe are nothing like the human world. The path is paved by
marble so black, it almost mirrors the sky, and the buildings are all
constructed either by glass or aged brick. The thousand-year-old designs
were created and protected by ancient magic.
Each building was constructed with the bones of a primal kind, be it a
Stygian monster, Mage, or any other beasts that come knocking at night.
Death is to be recycled.
He answers on the third ring. “Son.”
“We have an issue.”
Silence. “I’ve heard. Fill me in.”
Movement catches my eye in the corner. “Explosion. Another one.
Don’t know much yet.”
“Hmm.”
 “You think this has to do with the Ministry?” I start moving toward the
alley that’s tucked between the shop for magic, and the Elves Getaway. Last
time I set foot in the Elves Getaway, I lost two days and don’t remember a
fucking thing. Freaked me the fuck out.
I will be the darkest and most depraved being in existence with a
fucking smile and anticipation, but fuck with my senses? They’re lucky I
didn’t fall into a fit of rage and erase their existence.
“It’s been thousands of years that this council has stayed together,” my
father says. “I don’t think they’d risk me losing my shit by measly little
explosions. No. This is reckless and immature. It’s the doing of someone
who lacks basic knowledge on murder.” I snicker. “Have you pissed anyone
off lately?”
“No.” I squeeze my phone, picking up my pace down the alley. “Not
that I’m aware of.”
“Meet me in the Royal Room in a few. We need to call a meeting.”
I hang up on him and pick up my pace, shoving past everyone. I hit the
end and pause, looking from left to right, seeing no one there. “What the
fuck.”
“What is it?” Legend asks from behind, coming up beside me.
“Someone was watching.”
Legend frowns, looking at me from the corner of his eye after a
moment. “You let her go, didn’t you? Now you’re on edge?”
I point my glare his way. “Who?”
“London.”
I shake off his question, waving a portal open and stepping through. It
closes behind me as we both enter the Grand Royal Room. “No. She’s at
home.”
“Home?” Legend asks as I dip my hand into the Blood of a Sinner
Cauldron, ridding myself of retribution and revenge and entering with a
level head and loyalty of a Stygian—
 or so the Book of Death claims—and drag my thumb over my forehead
into an upside-down cross.
“Home.” Legend follows the same movement, dragging the blood over
his forehead. “As in where our mother is?”
“She’ll be fine. It’s safest there with all this bullshit going on. No one
can get anywhere near the palace without waking the dragon.” The walls in
the Royal Room are stark white, with a gold and rose chandelier that hangs
from the ceiling in the middle of a sparse rectangular table where silk black
chairs surround. The chandelier swirls to life as both Legend and I take the
chairs at the end of the table. Father sits at the head, his eyes on both
Legend and me.
“Where are your brothers?” he asks, straightening his shoulders. His
arm rests on the table, his muscles rippling with angry veins.
“I came straight here. Legend was with me when I heard. Didn’t take
the time to tell them yet.”
Another portal opens, and three more Elders walk through.
I lean back against the chair, running my finger over my upper lip
without taking my eyes off him. I don’t bother with the Elders. I don’t
fucking like them, so I’m not going to pretend. I’ll leave that for my parents
since they’re the ones who actually signed the fucking treaty.
Me? I’d just kill them all and make everyone fall in line. Fear. It’s what
almost everyone uses when our family name comes up, with good reason,
only I don’t give a fuck. Fear is a weapon, one that I have no problem
utilizing. My father doesn’t either, but he’s either hiding shit or growing
weak. I don’t know which it is.
I don’t know which is worse either.
What I do know is my bloodline could flip this world right back where
it needs to be before dinner even gets cold if we wanted.
And I want.
 My parents, well…they just don’t want the Argents in our business, and
this has proved to be the best way to keep them out. Outside of straight-up
domination, that is.
My father knows what I’m thinking, his eyes dancing, but only for me
to see, before it’s gone.
“Sit.” He gestures to the chairs on his end of the table. It’s not until the
table is full, with my brothers included, that I realize I took the spot at the
other, directly opposite father.
I shuffle back slightly, reaching for the rolled blunt on the tabletop.
Father looks between the joint and me before finally opening his mouth.
“We have an issue.”
“We know.” His voice is familiar, but I don’t know enough about him.
Odin Finn is the youngest of the Elders as far as appearances go, but his age
outlives almost all. All except my father.
Odin tosses the packet of cigars onto the table, scratching the back of
his neck. His blond hair grazes against his hands, and I catch the tattoos on
the side of his neck. “We suspect these explosions have something to do
with you and your family since none of us have any issues.”
“Who would even try, if not for the people sitting in this room right
now?” Creed asks the question we’re all sitting here asking. Silently. Creed
isn’t about the bullshit. He will speak his mind when most won’t, and we
love him for it. Mostly for the amount of control the man has.
My dad, Sin, and me? We skip to the bloody parts. Legend has yet to be
seen, but I’m betting there’s just as ruthless a being buried in him as me.
“No one is stupid enough to try, and if they are, they aren’t smart
enough to be able to do it more than once.” Creed leans forward, and the
door opens behind us as a waiter walks in, a long silver platter hovering
over one hand and the other holding a cocktail tray.
She dips beside me, her blue eyes connecting with mine and her young
skin blushing beneath my stare. Any other time, I probably would let her
know that I planned to end the night fucking her. Hell, I probably have
fucked her. Fed off her and threw her ass out of my window the second I
was done.
“Would you like anything else, Mr. Deveraux?” Her voice drips with
sugar. Too fucking sweet. She’s like that one girl who always needs to be
seen because no one ever notices her.
“Nah. I’m good.” I dismiss her by staring back at my old man at the
head of the table. I light the end of my joint and let the sweet smoke roll
beneath my tongue before blowing out rings. She disappears from the
corner of my eye. I can see Legend glaring at me from the side as Creed hits
my leg under the table. The chat continues between my father, Odin, and
the other Elders. They go back and forth like always. It’s like a continuous
battle any time we’re in this room. I don’t know how the fuck none of them
have killed one another yet. For one, this treaty is fucking bullshit. Written
up thousands of years ago to protect the balance between both Argent and
Stygian magic. Of course, my father being the Lord of the Underworld, he
was the drama. I’m sure the story has been chopped and changed
throughout the years, but the same one has stuck within us.
Dad had lost his ever-loving shit. Flew right out the fucking cuckoo’s
nest after he and his brother had a massive fuck-off fight. Don’t know who
won, all we know is Dad was booted from his family, and instead of
healing, he rebelled and went full-fledged dark. He ran humans like cattle
and destroyed their world. They blame it on climate change. Nah. That was
just the devil with a chip on his shoulder.
“Knight!” Father snaps from the front of the table, forcing me out of my
thoughts. “What do you think?”
Why is he asking me? I turn to Creed, who stares between him and me.
Confusion is etched all over his face. Same. What the fuck?
“Ah…about what?” Why the fuck is he calling me out right now? Creed
is the older brother. He’s the one who will eventually take the throne after
Dad finally dies. The man is ninety-nine percent muscle. He isn’t going
anywhere, anytime soon, but still I counted on the fact that I don’t have to
do shit. Now he’s asking me questions that I wasn’t listening to answer,
when I’m certain my older brother could recite the entire conversation
word-for-fucking-word.
“What do you think about this having something to do with you all
attending Rathe U? Anyone there you suspect?”
My eyes fly around the room, between all of the Elders. “What, you
mean more than usual? Or are you asking if we have any enemies?” I pause,
sucking down more smoke and handing the joint to Legend. “Because I’ll
show you the list.”
Father pushes back in his chair as the young girl sashays to his end of
the table. I watch as she slowly lowers herself down, placing a glass in front
of him. Father holds her stare, his eyes slowly dropping down her partly
exposed body. I watch as his fangs sharpen as he bares his teeth at the girl.
She blushes again, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Would you like
anything else, my lord?”
“No.” He waves his hand behind himself. “But stay until I’ve finished.
I’m not done with you.”
I roll my eyes. He says that he and Mom were mated, but that he wore it
off over the years. I call bullshit. Legend goes that a mated bond is never
worn off. I have a cousin who lives in the icy mountains of Black Snow and
he and his mate went off for fifty years to fuck. They came back and were
still as crazy about each other as when they left. Maybe that’s just how they
mated. Every person is different, but I’d never seen either of my parents
affectionate at all toward one another. I call bullshit on being able to fuck
anyone else other than your mate.
Wait. How the fuck would I know?
“I need your boys’ input.” Odin stands from his chair, buttoning up his
suit jacket. He speaks to all of us, but I feel his eyes burn into mine. He
reaches into his jacket pocket before tossing down a gold card. “Call me if
there are any developments. As you know, I can handle this quietly so it
doesn’t evolve into an even bigger mess.” He clicks his fingers together, a
black galaxy popping up beside him. He steps through as it swallows him
whole. One by one the Elders leave, and I wait until everyone is gone but us
when I bring my eyes to the girl behind Father.
“You can leave.”
“Knight,” Dad warns, reaching behind himself to grab her by the hand.
“I’m serious. Leave, or I’ll make you leave.”
Father stares at me blankly before he opens his mouth. “Everyone out
except Knight.” Chairs scrape against the floor as my brothers slowly
disappear the same way we came. Father pushes back on his chair.
“Your mating process has started, so I’m giving you the benefit of the
doubt—”
“—it can’t have. She’s a Giftless. How the fuck can it be her?”
Father’s eyes flash for a second as if he’s trying to add it up in his head.
“You can’t mate with a Giftless.”
I shrug. “Well, if you’re saying I have, then—”
“—Knight,” he growls. “I’m saying you have because you have. I can
smell her all over you.”
I blink. Swallowing past the rock in my throat, I try to shake myself out
of the daze. I mean, it’s not that I didn’t suspect, because of fucking course I
did. I was obsessed with her. Am. I’m obsessed with her. But that sure—no.
It can’t be.
I don’t bother shaking my head because sometimes Father just likes
hearing himself talk, even when he’s arguing. There’s no fucking way. I’ll
prove to everyone that she isn’t. That she’s nothing but a pointless little
fucking human. A plaything.
“You better watch your mother around her. You know how she gets.”
I push up from my chair.
 “Knight!” he calls, just as my hand comes to the door handle. “If it is
you, I don’t care if you’re taking the throne today or in one hundred years.
You talk to me that way again and try to choose my company, and I’ll feed
you to the dragons for a week, you hear?” I push the door open and slam it
behind me, throwing up a portal and stepping through.
Yeah. We will fucking see about that.
 Twenty-Four

L ondon

S , . “D
you like it?”
“Are you proud?” I ask, a raised brow. I hate to admit it, but I think I
like Sinner. Or Sin. Well, I like him enough to follow him out the front of
the house to see his new surprise. Which just so happens to be a—“You…
magic’d up a Ferrari?”
His mouth falls. “You want it pink?” He snaps his fingers and the color
changes to pink.
“Err, I don’t really care.” I snatch the keys from the palm of his hand,
jogging to the driver’s side. “So long as I get to drive.”
He watches me curiously, tucking his hand into his jean pocket.
He and Knight are one-hundred-percent identical. It’s almost eerie. Yet
somehow, I can differentiate between the two with ease, something no one
else can do…or so Sinner claims.
Or maybe it’s just that Knight is always moody, and Sinner is somehow
lighter. No. Lighter isn’t the right word. I get the feeling he’s equally as
fucked up as Knight. Maybe he just hides his internal shit better where
Knight lets his shit roar.
“You want me to come with you?” It comes out a whisper, almost like
he’s asking himself the question more than he’s actually asking me.
“Why would I not?” I tilt my head to the side. “I need a trouble buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy,” he warns, only his mouth crinkling slightly in a
gentle smirk.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “Then I need a bodyguard. I’m guessing there’s a
reason why your brother dragged me—no—stole me. And I’m guessing you
want to honor that.”
His smile turns into a wide-tooth smirk. “Bingo.”
I pull open the driver’s door and carefully close it. Running my hand
over the leather steering wheel, I chuckle. “I would have never thought I’d
ever so much as be in something like this, much less drive one!”
Sinner snorts, shoving his seat belt over his chest and clicking it in.
I glare at him. “Are you for fucking real? You’re immortal, yet you put
your seat belt on?”
“Girl.” He lifts his hips to grab out a small tin from his back pocket.
“No offense, but I don’t care how many lives I got. I ain’t about to put shit
past the only girl my brother has ever acted like a feral inmate over. For him
to turn into a possessive asshole? You’ve either got a magic pussy—that
I’m a little sad I didn’t get to dip into before you figured out there were two
of us—or you’re a crazy bitch on the inside. It’s without a doubt, one or the
other.”
“You know what?” I tap the gear into drive and slowly press my foot to
the accelerator. “Turn the music on.”
Sin doesn’t get offended, but merely shrugs. I want to ask him if we can
portal this baby back to my world, but I get the feeling it just simply won’t
exist. Maybe this doesn’t exist and it’s all a dream. One of the many
nightmares I have.
 I follow the road even though I don’t know where I’m going, dragging
the sharp edge of my thumbnail across my other thumb. If it’s a dream, that
should wake me up.
Only I’m still here. Driving a half-a-million-dollar car in a world I
didn’t know could exist much less actually exist.
“You know where you’re going, baby girl?” Sinner asks amusingly from
the passenger seat.
“I don’t know, but I want to say yes?”
“A’ight.” He chuckles, his finger tapping against his jean-clad thigh to
the beat of Metallica.
“You guys listen to our music?” I figure wherever I’m going is going to
be a long-ish trip. If only portals didn’t make me queasy.
If only I knew where I was fucking going.
What if I end up in front of another witch, or oh my god! What if I get
to meet a fairy?!
Wait. No.
I should not be excited about the things this world might offer.
Fear. Anger. Hope of going back home. Those are the things I need to
focus on.
“Your music?” Sin leans his head to the side, and I blink when the dark
sky slowly transforms to a soft pastel hue of colors. Saturn hovers right
above us, with its ring sparkling a brilliant gold. I’ve never seen anything
like it. It’s the stuff that dreams are made of. “You do know that James
Hetfield is a regular over here?”
“No.” I focus back on the road. “But I don’t know anything about your
world. In fact, just days before, I didn’t know any other world existed
except for my own.”
He snickers, turning his head out the window. “Figures. Humans.
Always so fucking narcissistic, thinking they’re the only kind to ever
exist.”
 I open my mouth to argue, but close it when I realize he’s right. Well
goddamn.
“So.” I take the turn off the single road that looks to be a highway, only
no cars. “Am I the only one who drives here?”
“Nah. If there are humans here, they usually do drive. Portaling makes
you all feel the same way, so after getting here, y’all can’t take much else
without a fuck ton of practice, and you’ll be here long enough for that.”
“But humans do come here, then?”
“The Haunt happens here, so they come for that and a few other games
we like to play, but a lot of people enjoy pets.” He shrugs. “Fuck ’em good
and feed for a few days before using compulsion to make it all better and
send them back.”
So…blasé.
“Feed as in?” I ask, assuming I know the answer, realizing fast I do not.
“Their blood or their energy. Giftless blood is like a vitamin to our kind,
and for Power Banks, they’re a quick dose of coke. Leaves them feeling on
top of the world after a quick fuck. Like Alex with your little buddy,
Benjamin.”
My heart falls to my feet. Oh my god, Ben!
I slam on the brakes, my pulse thumping wildly, urging me forward for
some unknown reason, but the ache in my chest keeps me frozen. I open my
mouth, but Sinner cuts me off.
“He’s fine. Back in his cute little skates pretending he knows how to
play hockey.”
“Fuck you. Don’t talk about Ben.”
Sinner laughs, and for some reason, I decide I believe him and hit the
gas again. Almost like a wave of certainty washing over me, which makes
no sense since I trust this motherfucker about as far as I can throw him. And
I’m not very strong.
 I take two more left turns once off the highway, pulling to a slow stop in
front of a large clearing. Deep red flowers scatter through the blades of
grass. It’s an explosion of green and burgundy, and when I open the driver’s
side door, the smell hits me at once. Sugar and cinnamon with a faint spice
of masculinity.
“Ahh, now it makes sense,” Sinner murmurs, following me out of the
car.
I walk a few feet forward as tingles erupt over my skin. Like a magnetic
field, I draw my eyes to the left. I strain my sight, looking beyond the thick
tree with cherry blossoms dangling off, only these blossoms glow. Literally
glow.
I find what I must have been subconsciously looking for.
Knight appears, his shirt long gone and jeans unbuttoned. Body
dripping wet as if he just climbed from a body of water that I can’t see, but
the droplets rolling over his hard muscles I can. He shakes his dark hair out,
and I bite into my cheek, watching as he pulls a small towel from a pile. He
lifts it high, wiping at his face, and every inch of him ripples.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
Knight’s head snaps my way and I suck in a sharp breath. The moment
his eyes meet mine, his shoulders fall as if eased by the sight of me. I find
myself eager—no, desperate to get to him. To just…be near him.
His eyes travel over me, almost satisfied that I’m wrapped in clothes he
gave me, and then his gaze meets mine.
A shiver runs through me, my attention following the line of sweat that
rolls between his pecs and doesn’t stop until it disappears into the dark trail
leading to his jeans. How I missed the marking on his abdomen that day on
the trails, I don’t know, but there it is. A burn in the shape of some sort of
crest, but instead of the flashing opal as Sinner’s has, Knight’s swirls a
crystal blue.
 His abs constrict under my attention, and my thighs clench at the sight,
the need to get closer almost too much to handle.
A hard chest presses to my back, and mine rises with a full breath.
“You know, Little L,” Sinner whispers into my ear. “We’re completely
identical?”
His meaning is as clear as it can be.
Knight’s teeth sink into his lower lip and he drags a towel over the back
of his hair, gaze burning over every inch of me.
“Every bit of us.” His breath fans across my neck. “Every fucking inch
of us is exactly the same.”
Knight dips his chin and wind whirls around my torso.
“Yeah.” I nod, my eyes locked on Knight’s, not really conscious of what
I’m saying but driven to say it either way. “But you’re not him.”
Sinner groans lightly, swapping sides. “That right there, baby girl,” he
murmurs, his tongue sliding across my collarbone and rising until his lips
meet my ear. “Was a good fucking answer.” His hands squeeze my hips.
“Go to him. Take what he gives you.”
My tongue slips out to lick my lips. “But—”
“No buts. Take, London. Let him give what he needs to give. You can
do that for my brother, can’t you, sweet girl?”
My mouth opens, but I close it, nodding instead.
“Good. Now go.”
I relent, and the moment I do, the air whirling around me like a timid
tornado, strengthens, tugging me across the yard. The toes of my shoes
tease the tips of the grass as I’m weightlessly carried like controlled
weather to the man waiting for me.
Knight stares down at me, his knuckles coming up to glide along my
throat, tipping my chin up. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, abruptly
dipping until his face is in my neck, my hair in his hand. He tugs slightly, a
small rumble leaving him.
 “You smell like him,” he says, but I detect no anger.
And then his tongue follows the exact path his brother’s just did, a
satisfied moan leaving him, and I grip his forearm, needing closer.
Knight dips, swooping me from under the legs until my ass is in his
hands, my feet locked behind his back on instinct. He squeezes my ass
cheeks, pupils blown wide.
“Leave,” Knight says, eyes on mine.
“I want to watch her. Let me.”
Knight’s eyes graze over my face, settling on my lips. “No one deserves
to see her,” he says so low, I’m not sure if his twin hears. “Leave,” he says
louder. “I’ll show you how good she is another time.”
Silence, and then, “She is good, isn’t she? I knew she would be.”
Knight nods, and my core is officially on fucking fire.
He lowers his head, his lips skating along mine. “She’s so fucking good,
brother. So good.”
And then his mouth is on mine, and he isn’t soft about it. He fucking
devours me. Owning me more and more with each swipe of his tongue
along mine.
His hands and lips are fused to me, taking and demanding. Almost too
much. He’s almost too much.
He carries me backward, laying me over the hood of the hot pink Ferrari
and pressing my knees back until they’re damn near flat against the hood.
He pushes closer, revealing how hard he is. He grinds against me, and I feel
everything through the thin layer of clothing I have on.
Tearing away, I gasp. “You kidnapped me.”
“You can’t kidnap what belongs to you.” His lips capture my own
again.
“I don’t belong to you,” I say between kisses.
Knight flicks my lips, his hand pushing past the waist of my leggings
without warning and straight between my legs. My back arches off the car
and he shoves me back down with his palm. “Yes. You do,” he confirms.
“For now, anyway, so shut the fuck up. You’re distracting me, and I kinda
want to make my little toy scream.”
Sinner’s words come back and I decide I can be pissy about being taken
from my home later.
So, I close my lips, lie back, and lift my hips in challenge. “Well, go on
then. Take what’s yours.”
Knight wastes no time.
He growls, shredding my pants from my body before burying his face
between my legs, his tongue swiping from back to front before his teeth
clamp over my clit and he plays me like a fucking fiddle.
I thrash and moan, hands digging into his hair and it spurs him further.
His fingers bite into my thighs as he holds me open wide, his tongue
plunging into my pussy before swirling back to my clit. He sucks hard,
growling against my skin as one of his hands disappears, and I crack an eye
open to watch as it dips inside his now-open jeans.
I watch as he pulls his swollen cock free, the tip purple and angry as it
stretches, and when he begins to tug at himself, my lips part.
He works himself, rolling his tongue over my clit and I imagine him
inside me again, fucking me until I can’t see and filling me completely.
I need him inside me now.
God, I’m so fucking empty.
“Yes. You are. You’re so fucking empty, and you will stay that way until
you admit you feel it,” he growls against my thigh, teeth marks indented
against my flesh. “Tell me I’m not fucking crazy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Tell me I’m in your fucking head, like you’re in mine.” The head of his
cock expands, and I picture taking it between my lips, pre-cum now
gleaming along his tip.
 He tugs harder, sucking me like his favorite lollipop, and I moan into
the air.
“Tell me, London.”
“I…” My legs start to shake. “You’re …”
He groans, his body jerking, and I’m so fucking close.
I grind against his face and he growls into me. I jerk when I feel his
teeth…no, his fangs come out to play, fear mixed with heat washes over me
and I don’t know what I want to happen next.
“London.”
I swallow. “Feel what? You’re making no sense to me, I—”
His fingers bite into the flesh of my thighs as he stands to his full
height, forcing me down the hood of the car and resting between my legs.
He pumps himself slowly, his eyes staying on mine as his lip curls upward.
“You wanna play that game?” The hand he’s using on himself flies to my
throat and all air around me is cut. “’Cause I can play that game.”
I try to shake my head, tapping at his hand, but he doesn’t let up. Using
his other hand, he directs the tip of his cock over my slit, slapping my pussy
with his girth.
“Kni—”
He intensifies his grip, tilting his head to the side to study me closely.
“Such a fucking pointless little Giftless, huh?”
He lets up a little and I suck in a deep breath, hungry for oxygen but not
enough to get myself out of this situation. He’s fucking crazy! He squeezes
again just as his cock hits my entrance and my body tenses. No. I want to
scream no! You’re not fucking having sex with me and all thoughts I had
moments before don’t mean shit right now, but then he forces himself inside
of me and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I feel myself tighten around
his size, and then he retracts and a moan slips from my mouth. Goddammit.
“You’re worthless.” He thrusts inside of me again. Lowering himself to
my mouth, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. “I fucking hate
you.”
“I hate you, too.” The hand that was on my throat comes to my jaw and
he squeezes so hard my lips pop.
“Yeah? Then why the fuck am I here right now?” Thrust. “Fucking
you.” Thrust. “Owning you.” He lowers his mouth and captures my tongue,
his nose brushing against the bridge of my own. “Who do you belong to?”
My mouth slams closed as I lift my hips to meet his, desperate to be
closer to him. I feel my heart pulse to a steady beat the longer the seconds
go on. I need him. Everywhere. Right now. Sweat spills over my flesh, and
nothing can be heard but the slow slapping of our bodies meeting.
He rests his forehead on mine, his lips grazing mine ever so softly, a
breath, minimal break in his anger, but it comes right back.
“Gonna break you, Little London. Rip your fucking heart out and run
my talons through the middle. Wanna know why?”
I feel myself treading close, so close to that dangerous cliff of euphoria.
My body buzzes as heat rushes through my fingers, right down to my toes.
His pelvis hits my clit and I lose it. My body explodes from beneath his grip
as little colorful dots dance behind my eyes.
“Because. It’s. Fucking. Mine.” He pulls himself out as my body
trembles from the orgasm tearing through me. He yanks me down so hard
that I fall on my knees in front of him as he jerks his cock over my face.
“Open.”
Shit. My mouth parts as I look up at him from damp lashes and hot cum
shoots out onto my face.
Well shit.
With his head tilted back, I slowly rise to my feet, running my finger
over my cheek and bringing my eyes to his as I suck my finger into my
mouth. “You have the story twisted, lover. It seems I’m the one who lives in
your head, not the other way around.”
 His hand flies to my jaw again, and I watch as the anger that was just
there slowly transforms into a dark smirk. It’s wicked. The kind you’d
imagine the devil to give you right after you sign your soul away and he
prepares to take his first bite.
He shoves me backward, and I land against the hood of the car. “Now
every time I see you, I can picture my cum on your face.”
Then he’s gone. Poof. Disappears into wherever the fuck he came from
and there’s nothing but me, this field, and my pink Ferrari.
I shove my clothes back on, wiping the rest of his cum off my cheek
with the back of my hand and ignoring the way it sets fire against my flesh.
Fuck my life.
I land in the driver’s seat, staring off into the distance. How is it not
bothering me that I’m in a completely different world, surrounded by
strangers who don’t feel like strangers?
I hate Knight.
I hate that I can’t hate him when he’s naked in front of me with his
monster cock in his hands, but I hate him.
I tap the button to start and put the car into reverse. I need to get out of
here. Away. As away as I can, anyway.
I remember when I was a little girl, and my uncle took me to a carnival.
It wasn’t the traditional kind, it had rides, sure, but it had all kinds of other
shit. Like animals that would chase you, people who knew how to make
everything homemade, and small kids who could recite books like they’d
read them thousands of times over. I thought that was weird.
Next to this? It’s nothing. I sit in the car staring at the empty road in
front of me. Completely empty. What is the point of having a damn road if
there are no cars, anyway?
People—I think—are walking down the streets, going about their day as
normal. The buildings are all large, over-the-top. I can’t see past the little
shop in front of me, though. Nestled between two larger buildings, the small
castle-like structure is lined with neon purple lights with a sign that reads
Majick.
I drive the car into an empty parking spot right in front of the town
square, shutting the door behind myself. A chapel is built into the middle of
the gardens, only if I squint my eyes and look closer, the cross is upside
down. Chills spread over my skin as I bring the key fob against my chest,
swallowing past my fears.
He stole me.
Brought me here.
I have to keep believing there is a reason, and that reason needs me
alive. I rush across the road and pass the small lantern lights that pave the
way through the tiny shops. I stop outside the purple one, staring in through
the windows. Someone brushes past me, but I don’t move, unable to look
away. My hand comes to the handle and warmth fills my fingertips.
Crap. Okay.
I pull the door open and a rush of warm air washes over me with the
sweet scent of burning sage. I let out a deep breath, finally able to relax for
the first time since waking here, before stepping inside and allowing the
door to close. Little crystals hang from the ceiling, with clouds of smoke
drifting around the space. Tarot cards hang on the walls, with small silver
paintings lined over the onyx-colored walls. It’s artistic and different, yet I
feel completely at home.
“I wondered how long it would take for you to find me,” a voice says
from behind me, and my hand pauses an inch away from the dark tektite
rock in front of me. Created when an asteroid strikes Earth, I can’t help but
feel drawn to the old stone. How did it get here? I know we aren’t on Earth,
or at least that’s my understanding of Knight’s not at all helpful “my realm”
comment. Do they have crystals the same way we do? Where even are we?
I slowly turn to see where the voice is coming from, when I’m met with
a pair of the softest pink eyes I’ve ever seen. She has deep lilac-black hair
that flows down to her tiny waist, pale yet flawless skin, and her lips have
the perfect cushion that girls back home pay for.
She moves around the room, a slight smirk on her mouth. “I often
wonder just how this could happen.”
“How what?” I ask. I didn’t mean for it to come out so soft and gentle,
but when the words leave my mouth, I almost choke on them. “How did
you know I was coming? What did you mean by that?”
She stifles a slight chuckle. “So many questions. You want answers. I
wonder why he hasn’t given you the ones he knows.” She releases the
tektite I was about to touch, her eyes now coming to mine. She’s a step
away from me, so close that if she wanted me dead, I’d be just that. Dead.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” She rolls her eyes, drifting back to where she
came from while gesturing to the small leather sofa opposite hers. “Sit.”
She leans against the back, one hand resting over the edge. The corner
of her eyes crinkles and I falter. She is stunning. Beautiful. The kind of
beauty that can never exist within the human realm. Kind of like Knight and
his brothers.
I find myself walking toward the chair, then I slowly lower myself
down. “Why do I feel safe here?”
She pinches a lit skinny cigar between her fingers, crossing one leg over
the other and making the silk robe she’s wearing slip over her thigh,
exposing long, lean legs. She brings the cigarette to her lips and sucks on it
gently. I watch as the ember burns on the end before she slowly lowers it
back down, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “I guess that’s a valid question,
but unfortunately it’s not one that I can answer for you, London from
Earth.”
I clear my throat slightly as she offers me the cigar. I shake my head. “I
don’t smoke.”
“It’s not filled with the shit you guys smoke over there. Here—” She
urges it forward once more. “Try it. You know I’m not going to hurt you.”
 I do. And just like the connection with Knight, I can’t understand why I
feel that way in the presence of this woman. This woman who, admittedly,
looks deadly. No matter how beautiful she is. It’s the kind of beauty you
know the devil would use to lure dumb souls like me into the pit of hell
without even realizing.
She chuckles lightly. “So sweet.” Pause. “And accurate.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
She searches my eyes, still not letting up on me not taking the smoke. I
lean forward and put it between my fingers, watching as the smoke on the
end turns purple.
“I don’t. You’re just easy to read.”
I don’t buy it. Bringing the end to my lips, the taste hits me instantly. A
sweet yet deathly spicy taste touches my tongue. I inhale a little, afraid that
it’s some kind of weed and I’m about to cough my lungs up. Only my lungs
expand easily, leaving the sweet taste of rose in the back of my throat,
before I blow out a steady cloud of smoke. My head feels light as my
muscles relax, and suddenly, I don’t care anymore.
I don’t give a fuck about Knight.
I don’t care if I ever go back to Earth. In fact, a laugh bubbles up my
throat and my hand flies to my mouth to stop it from coming out. Nope. I
failed. Because it comes out.
“Holy crap.”
“Careful, little one.” The woman giggles, taking the smoke from me.
“You can’t be saying the H word down here.”
Down here.
“So I’m down?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and relaxing into the chair.
“Oh, let me guess,” she starts, sucking on the blunt. I’m pretty sure it’s a
blunt. Like for magical creatures. “Deveraux didn’t tell you anything.”
“Nope. The asshole just stole me away from Earth and threw me down a
portal without a word.”
 “Mmm,” she murmurs, swiping her lips with the back of her thumb
before handing me the trunk again.
I take it. Because I’m me. I take another hit, this time more than the last.
It goes down the same, almost like air. Damn. This is the best weed ever.
“Stole you, you say.” She clucks her tongue against her upper mouth as
if that is not the case. “Well, I guess we can rest in one fact.”
I don’t bother to ask what she means because everything just seems
lighter. The stress I felt moments before, the ache in my stomach when I’d
think about Ben and how much I missed him. It is all gone. Poof. Up in a
cloud of smoke.
“I don’t know what is happening,” I whisper, the most honest words
I’ve said in a long time. “Just when I think I have it figured out, I get
whisked away to another world. One I never thought existed.”
“I need to ask you something,” the woman says. “And my name is
Zhara.”
Zhara. Even her name is all…mystical-like.
“Okay, ask.” I wave to the spot between us.
“What do you know about your childhood?”
I sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “As much as any other person. Birthday
parties, a few camping trips.”
“Be more specific.”
Jesus, um. “My uncle raised me after my parents died. We…liked taco
Tuesday like most people and I preferred recess over class time, again, like
most did.” I shake my head, knowing this isn’t what she’s looking for, but
my childhood, aside from being raised by my uncle and not my parents, was
literally that normal. “I had a basic life. Why?”
The Mage stares at me blankly.
“Huh. No reason.” Her eyes shift to my hands. “Can I read your
palms?”
 My hands are meeting hers before I can decide. I watch as she studies
the lines, humming and whispering under her breath.
She drops them like they caught on fire, her face paling slightly. “I think
you should go.”
“What?” I don’t quite catch the seriousness in her tone.
“Now!” She stands to her feet, pointing one long manicured finger to
the door. “Leave. Please, Little Crow. Don’t come back here. Don’t cross
the bridge, and if you can run,” she urges, “do it.”
I stand, picking up the keys to my car and rushing out the door. The
outside slaps me across the face like a cool bag of ice, and the magnetic
draw I had toward the store is replaced with an aching emptiness resting in
my gut.
I want to go home now. I want my bed, my best friend, and normalcy.
But unlikely for me, since it seems I can’t have anything I want so long
as he wants me.
What’s most troubling, though, is that deep down, in places I can’t reach
or name, there’s a dark whisper that leaves a trail of goosebumps in its
wake, and it’s saying something like… I want the obsessive, possessive
bastard just as much.
Fuck.
 Twenty-Five

K night

H I
walk away from her. Desperate to see her fight, run, or do anything against
me. Why the fuck isn’t she freaking out? Demanding, the little it would do,
to know why I just snatched her pretty little self from her world and
dumped her into the corruption of mine?
I mean, she asked, but that’s it.
No fucking fight. No shoving or clawing.
It’s irritating and weak of her.
Maybe she knows she’s safe with me? What the fuck?!
I shake the thought off.
She is not safe with me. I’m the last fucking person in the realm and the
next she’s ‘safe’ with. Not that I fucking care. I brought her here so I could
keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not giving away what is mine—as
temporary as it might be—that’s it.
I hit the main lobby just as the door opens and closes and Creed walks
through. His jaw bounces when he clenches his teeth, and I don’t have to be
a descendant of a telepath to know that something has recently crawled up
his ass and has no intention of coming back out.
“Why would you bring her here?” He frowns.
“You’re asking like you don’t know, brother.” I go to step around him
when he counters it and moves into my space.
“I don’t trust her.”
“I don’t need you to.”
“You shouldn’t trust her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growl, shoving him out
of the way. I fucking hate that I left her there. Maybe I should have portaled
us both home, to fucking hell with her sickness every time she goes through
it. No one will touch her in Rathe. They can all smell me on her.
“Knight!” Creed calls out just as my foot hits the bottom stair. “You and
I both know this isn’t going to end well. She’s a fucking human. Do what
you need and then let her go.”
I ignore my brother, pounding up the stairs to our family home and
making my way into my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me. I
wave my hand over the TV screen, and it pulls up a video of London. She’s
in her car with tears falling down her cheeks. Sobs break out from between
her lips, and I hate that anger swirls inside of me at the scene.
I click a portal and step through the swirls, taking the first step out and
directly to the passenger door of the Ferrari Sinner gave her. Fucking idiot.
He can pretend that he wants to fuck with her all he wants, but I’ve seen
him with her.
She jumps when I slide into the passenger seat and slam the door
closed, turning to face her. “Who did it?”
“What?” She glares at me through the tears in her eyes, her cheeks red
and her scowl deep. I hate that even now, with ugly fucking tears littered all
over her face, that one of her gets my dick hard more than one thousand
dragon sluts ever could. “You, you fucking asshole! Take me home.”
 My mouth slams closed, and I clench my teeth. “What?”
“Take me!” she screams. “Home! I want my best friend.”
“Your what?” I ask calmly, raising a brow at her. At this point, I’m
toying with her, but it’s amusing to see her angry. Mad. Bet she fucks like a
weapon when she’s this worked up.
“I want Ben.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, all of the anger I
felt moments ago topples over like lava.
Pull your head in, Knight. Fuck.
“Drive.” I point to the road. “Now, London!”
“Will you let me go home?”
“Not yet. Drive!”
She jumps as I bark at her, hitting the reverse gear and flooring it.
“You keep up with that shit, London, and just remember, you’re the
only mortal in this car.”
She puts it in drive and hits the stereo, swiping the final tears from her
eyes and keeping them on the road. The Weeknd comes through the
speakers, and she turns it up higher. I can feel her anxiety, not that she
knows this. The only reason that song is going up is to stop me from
talking. She doesn’t have to worry about that shit. Like I fucking like
whatever is happening between us both. I can’t fucking stand being in the
same car as her, yet I have this animalistic need to protect her.
It’s fucked.
I hate it.
I don’t fucking want it. Especially not with someone as weak as her.
Even as the thoughts enter my mind, I hate the way my monster stirs to life
inside of me, feral and angry. How dare I talk about her in that way.
Praise Satan. He’s still there, lurking. Pacing back and forth, just
waiting to be accepted.
To be freed.
 But the Ethos can’t be freed until the mating ritual is complete. Not that
she’s my real mate.
No, this is some warped shifting of the stars or some shit, something a
blood moon will reset.
London pulls us up the long driveway and doesn’t take a second to
quickly climb out and slam the door behind her. She jogs up the marble
stairs and through the twin doors, shoving past Creed and running up the
grand stairs to the room I put her in.
Creed shuts the door after me.
“Anything you want to say, Creed, save it. I don’t want to fucking hear
it.”
“You sure? I mean, are you sure that you don’t want to hear it?”
I ignore him. Tired and fatigued over all the drama that’s happened
today, I just want to sink my teeth into something—preferably the stubborn
bitch down the hall—and sleep for nine hundred years. Before I can make it
five fucking feet, Mother appears, black crown sitting high on her head.
My fists flex, aware of what that means.
She dips her chin, telling me I’m right. “We’ve been called to a meeting.
Fetch your brothers.” She doesn’t bother saying which ones since she isn’t
sure which “son” I am. “Meet us in the Royal Room. We will arrive six
strong.”
I give a curt nod and head off, but before I make it down the hall, she
calls, “And be sure to lock the stray up before we leave or feed her to the
dragon and be done with it.”
If it were that simple, I’d have done that the first day.
 Twenty-Six

L ondon

I , .I
scream loudly into the cushion before rolling onto my back. Shoving the
blanket over my body, I curl into a ball and squeeze my eyes closed.
I just want to go home.
I don’t care why Knight brought me here or that my, I don’t know,
subconscious or something has the hots for the asshole. He is an asshole
and I’m over his shit.
He appeared from thin air today looking all kinds of angry, ready to tear
the limbs from someone’s body, then probably fucking eat them, for simply
making me cry.
Little did he know it was all his fault.
He was the reason. He is the reason.
And honestly, he probably knows that. The man is either in denial or
doesn’t care enough to realize it…not that he would care if he did realize it.
He was pissed off and prepared to kill—probably literally, if I’ve learned
anything the last few days—when he thought someone else was at fault.
When I told him he was the culprit, he was nothing but annoyed.
 Well, welcome to the club, asshole. I’m the one who was kidnapped and
forced through some creepy Guardians of the Galaxy type shit, only not at
all the same because those are aliens, and this is freaking magic!
The lady from the purple shop today, she was a Mage. I’m not really
sure how I know that for certain, but I do. The way she looked at me, spoke
to me, it was as if she knew me in ways I didn’t know myself, and then she
took my hand and flipped the fuck out.
But something tells me it wasn’t me she was afraid of, and more me she
was afraid for.
To be honest, I’m not even sure fear is the correct emotion, but there
was something that switched inside her. She said she was wondering when I
would come.
Does that mean she knows me?
That she had a vision of a stranger coming to see her?
Is anyone a stranger to anyone in this realm?
Dammit!
So many questions and no one to answer them. It’s irritating and unfair.
The least Knight could do if he insists on keeping me here is give me a little
bit of insight as to why.
I’m pretty sure Knight believes the least he could do is absolutely
nothing, because why would he do anything at all if he doesn’t choose to?
He doesn’t strike me as a man who does what he’s told, if it’s not
something he already intended to do.
Frustrated, I climb out from under the covers, pulling a hoodie that was
left on the bed over the tiny little shorts and cami set Knight must have
picked up for me and head for the door. I’m not sure I would have come
back right away if Knight hadn’t shown up and demanded me to. Like with
the shops clustered in that dark alleyway, I have no idea how I found my
way back to this maze of the castle, but maybe if I knew my way back, then
I could figure out my way around it. Maybe it’s something that triggers here
in Rathe, an internal compass of sorts.
Or maybe Knight put some sort of freaky spell on me that embedded a
map inside my brain that’ll explode and blow me to pieces if I don’t follow
it.
Okay, that’s dramatic, but seriously. Anything is possible at this point,
right?
My lip twitches at the ridiculous thoughts, and I turn the handle,
pushing the door open and step into the hall, where I come to a halt.
The bed that looks like it was created for Wednesday Addams as a child
stares back at me, my shoes at the foot of it where I left them, the window
at its side wide, curtains blowing with the midnight breeze. Is it always dark
here? Because I can vibe with this.
I blink and blink again, spinning back for the door.
Gripping the handle, I turn it, easing it open as I tip my head to look
out.
The hallway greets me with flickering lights and a red velvet carpet, just
as before. Slowly, I step out, and the door slams at my back, making me
jump. I take a step, my foot freezing mid-air when the fucking bed, yet
again, sits in front of me.
I spin to the door, throwing it open this time so hard it rattles against the
wall, and the image outside it shakes. “What the fu—”
“He’s locked you in.”
A small yelp escapes me because, well, I’m in another fucking world.
No telling what’s lurking around the corner.
When I turn, I see a girl in a black and purple maid’s uniform, a skimpy
kind you’d find in department stores in October.
“You can’t get out, no matter how many times you try.” She lifts a
shoulder, blue eyes sparkling as she tips her head. A mischievous smile
plays at her lips. “You’re the first Giftless they’ve ever brought home. I
wonder why.”
“Any guess you want to share?” I ask, looking her over. Her ears are
clipped around the lobe, and while her face is sort of angelic-like, I can’t
guess what she is.
“No.” She smiles, stepping closer. She looks inside the room, her head
shaking. “Shame this is empty. Didn’t used to be.”
A frown builds at my brows, and when I look back, the maid is gone.
Sighing, I slam the door and lean against it, closing my eyes for a long
moment.
Well, at least he didn’t ‘erase’ the door, like Sinner said. I might panic
then.
Maybe throw myself out the window and see if some sort of magical,
invisible pillow catches me on the way down. Maybe some sort of Aladdin
magic carpet shit will appear.
Maybe I’d just splat all over the cement, all Knight’s problems would be
solved, and Ben would be all alone in the world.
I need to go home. He’s probably worried, and I miss him.
My eyes fall to the empty space on the wall. It’s purple and large with
nothing in the center, black candle holders with screaming skulls on the
ends and flickering fire floating in them.
I move closer, hovering my hand over the flame to see if it’s warm to
the touch or some sort of trickery, but not only is it hot, but it bursts as if
threatened by my nearness, the fire rolling across my palm and wrapping
around it, exploding and engulfing, and all I can do is stare.
I yank away, looking from my hand to the candlestick. My eyes fly
wide, and I squeal when I see the fire burning away the sleeve of the
hoodie.
“Oh fuck!” I scream, pulling it over my head and stomping it out.
 “Don’t freak out, don’t freak out…” I peek out of one eye, and instantly,
my shoulders fall. Oh, thank fuck. My skin didn’t melt off.
In fact…
I look closer, running my fingers over the soft flesh.
“Not even a red spot.” I glance at the burned hoodie, the soot smell of
smoke still so fresh in the air it burns my nose. “But how?”
I wave my hand in front of the candlestick, and this time, it only glows
brighter, illuminating the room more and the empty space between the
hanging candle burns. The perfect spot for a portrait, I can’t help but think.
But of whom?
Turning, my eyes travel the space for the first time since I arrived,
picking up on more now that I’m a little less sure Knight brought me here
as some sort of human sacrifice when I wouldn’t have sworn so not that
long ago.
If he wanted me dead, he didn’t have to bring me here to do it, right?
Dragging my fingers along the dresser, I pull the drawers open, but
they’re empty. The giant walk-in closet is too, but the black marble vanity
in the corner with burgundy bulbs, golden fangs of a python wrapped
around them, isn’t.
A golden brush sits inside, its handle just barely long enough to fit in
my palm. I pull the few strands of hair still wrapped in its bristles, the long
curly thread as black as the carpet beneath my feet. Flipping it over, the
blood in my veins runs cold, and I drop it to the floor.
It lands bristle side down, the crest glaring up at me.
A triangle with a single vertical line running through it.
My jewelry box flashes in my mind, as well as the little doll that dances
inside it. I remember always thinking how odd it was for a little girl’s toy to
have a dancing Medusa draped in black velvet, with eyes that glow green
when you stare into them, but I love that stupid thing. Loved it enough to
bring it across the country to college with me.
 Honestly, I’m not sure where I got it, but this symbol, I bend, staring at
the sharp lines along the brush’s back, is the same.
My pulse beats a little hard, and I swipe it off the floor, quickly shoving
it into the drawer.
I spin around, spotting a remote on the bedside table for the first time,
but as I look around, there’s no TV. Picking it up, I press the power button
and slowly drop onto the bed when a black cloud rolls down the ceiling,
spinning and whirling before me.
Unsure of what to do, or if this shit will eat me like the flame wanted to
burn me but couldn’t, I simply stare at it.
After a moment, it sparks, making me jump.
I hold still, and it does it again.
Confused, I shake my head. “Look, not sure what to do here…and I’m
talking to a ball of smoke.” I run my hand over my face. I’m fucking losing
it. “Where the hell is Knight?” I groan.
Suddenly, the smoke spreads out, thinning until it’s nearly translucent,
and then there he is.
Knight’s sharp jaw stares back at me, his eyes pointed and hard, face set
with a death glare—his usual expression.
He’s bouncing slightly, and my brows pull, realizing he’s walking, the
soft click of heels heard in the distance.
Oh my shit, the smoke listened to me.
Afraid to spook, well, one of us…assuming it’s a living thing, I slowly
ease my legs up, folding beneath me. Might as well test this baby out.
“Show me all of Knight.”
Like adjusting the lens on a camera, the image zooms out, revealing
Knight and Sinner walking side-by-side in matching, dapper solid black
suits, their expressions matching and eyes brilliantly blue against the raven
shade. Legend and Creed are beside them, and as the smoky screen moves
farther away, his mother, and who is without a doubt his father, appear.
 A black crown sits atop his mother’s head, her long black hair silky
straight down her back, lips painted a deep blood-red as she stares straight
ahead, black fingernails as sharp as diamonds.
Behind them, another portal opens as a few girls step through, each in
full glam with stilettos and dresses I couldn’t afford if I saved every penny
over my entire lifetime.
My eyes snap left as the girl grows closer, and instantly a frown pulls.
Alex sashays forward, planting her hand on Knight’s arm.
I wait for him to shove her off, but he doesn’t. He swings his arm over,
wrapping it around her back and using it to guide her forward.
Heat crawls up my spine, tension settling behind my ribs as he leans
toward her, whispering in her ear.
“Silence,” he demands.
My lip curls when she looks up at him with hungry eyes, using her
finger to pretend to zip her lips.
They descend several stairs, the giant room seeming to shift and spin
with each step they take, making it hard for me to find anything that might
clue me in to where they are. This is live, right? Like, I’m watching him
right now? Not some old film that’s tricking me because my mind is a
fragile being at the moment?
“Where is she?” Alex asks then, and I sit up straighter.
Okay, live it is.
“What part of silence do you not understand?” he deadpans.
“Maybe if my mouth had something else to do, I wouldn’t be speaking.”
My jaw drops. “Brazen little bitch.” Irritation itches along my skin and I
fling my hand out, sick of her, and…holy shit. The image moves.
It shifts until Legend and Creed are in view, a girl our age at each of
their sides as well, and then there’s Silver. He stands beside an older man
who must be his father, with Knight at his side.
 I stare at the man responsible for the devilishly divine men who have
been ruining my life lately, and yeah. I can see where they get it.
Their father looks cold, harsh, and aged in ways they aren’t yet, but not
old. His eyes snap up then, and I hold my breath as they seem to stare
directly into mine. His gaze narrows , and he shakes his head.
A knot forms in my throat and I don’t dare move, but then he clears his
throat, lifting his chin to speak.
“Why have you called us from our lands when we are but hours from
the Midnight Mating ceremony?”
“You really plan to continue with your night of reckless debauchery
considering what’s happened?” a silvery voice says.
“What’s happened?” I whisper to myself, leaning forward.
“What’s reckless is keeping your gifts on leashes. We’re stronger than
you for many reasons, one of which is we don’t hold our gifts back. We are
our gifts. Not some humanized version of it.”
The way he spits the word human has the hairs on my neck standing.
Speaking so low I can hardly hear myself, just in case the sound travels,
I test this smoky surface shit again. “What does Knight see?”
The picture disappears and I gasp, but then it swirls, and slowly, I gape
at the scene.
“Holy shit.”
In the back of my mind, I recall the Mage’s warning about the use of
such a word here, but I can’t focus. My eyes are eating up every inch of this
space. A giant room, spinning in orbit with diamonds hanging from the
ceiling. There’s a long, marble-style table that separates each person, and
the closer I look, the more I notice there aren’t any doors. One materializes,
and a waiter walks through before it disappears again.
Ah. Right. I mean, who needs a door when you have fucking magic?
“Enough,” the voice I recognize as Knight’s mom commands, her tone
bored but indefinite. “You have concerns about the attacks on the Deveraux
domains.”
“We’ve heard there has been—”
“Heard from who?” Creed speaks, and suddenly he’s in my view, as if
Knight has turned to face him before looking forward once more. “Who
would speak of the Stygian business to an Argent?”
By the way he says it, he means they wouldn’t.
So he thinks they must know more than they’re saying?
The next words spoken go right over my head as all I can hear is Alex’s
voice as if in my ear.
“Can we play after? I’ve missed you.” Her hand brushes his chest, and
he stares at it, attention rising to her.
“Who have you missed, Alexandra?” he whispers, and my claws sink
into my heart, restricting it as his hand lifts, tipping her until his mouth is at
her ear.
“Fuck this.” I push to my feet, stepping right through the smoke and it
dispels around me. “Fuck. This.” I begin to pace. “He’s out at some boujee
cult leader shit with that bitch who was doing some freaky shit to my best
friend! Ugh, I will kill the bitch if she hurt him, and if she puts one fucking
hand on Knight, I’ll…”
Fuck me, I’ll what? Pretty sure a knee to the pussy and a fist to the face
wouldn’t faze a—whatever the hell she is—but I bet it could make her
bleed.
Damn, he’s totally going to fuck her, and I kind of want to vomit at the
thought.
Annoyed and a little dizzy, I push a harsh sigh past my lips, tossing
myself back on the bed. I stare up at the ceiling for too long to count, and
the burning sensation in my gut only grows hotter. Deeper. Until everything
turns blurry…
Images flash behind my eyes as laughter claps out from somewhere in
the distance.
 I sit up at the sound and suddenly I’m somewhere new.
I swear to god, or shit! Maybe I should swear to the damn devil here,
but if that man doesn’t stop portaling me into new places without my
permission I’m going to chop his balls off and feed them to those monsters
he keeps talking about.
Disoriented, I have to blink several times as the flashing strobe lights
flicker in the giant space. People ... if you can call them that, dance and
party all around, and I’m talking all around… there’s bitches on the fucking
ceiling even!
At least they seem to be having fun when all I feel like I’m doing is
drowning, and it’s Knights hands pushing below the water’s surface and
holding me there. With a smile.
Huffing, I swipe a red Solo cup, desperate for anything to numb the
pain. I tip my head back and swallow the bitter beer, swiping my hand with
the back of my mouth.
Bodies dance against each other as someone comes up behind me,
rubbing themselves against my back. I feel his dick brush my ass and I
shove backward, stumbling to the side as my mind tilts sideways.
Everyone disappears when I see Knight on the sofa in front of me. His
legs are spread, his arms sitting above the couch, and his head is tipped to
the side. A full head of blonde hair is on his lap as his head tips back and
his other hand finds her mane of Barbie doll locks. No.
That’s not Knight.
That’s Sinner. It has to be. Only even as the thought comes, it’s quickly
squashed. For whatever reason, I know it’s not.
That’s Knight.
The girl that’s sucking him off slowly raises from his lap, hoisting her
skirt and spreading her legs wide on each side. He doesn’t bother to look
my way as she directs herself down over his cock. My stomach aches as
betrayal climbs up my throat and all of the beer I just drank threatens to
come out.
Fuck him.
Fuck this.
I am so done.
I push backward, the jealousy so thick in my throat that I’m certain I’m
going to choke.
I fly off the bed, sweat slicked over my skin and my heart thrashing
against my ribcage.
Laughter sounds out from the corner of the room. “Just as I thought. So
you done fighting with me?”
I fall back onto the mattress, my panic now drained. I can’t keep
fighting with this idiot, as much as I want to. “You don’t know what I was
dreaming about.”
He leans forward just enough for the full moon outside to catch the
shadows of his jaw. I hate the way my head spins anytime he’s near. I can
pretend like it’s me coming down from whatever that weed was that the
Mage gave me, but it’s not. It has been hours. “What Mage?”
My eyes snap back up to Knight. “How do you do that?”
“Answer the question.” He stands to his full height.
I shuffle back farther against the headboard, drawing my knees up to my
chest.
“Fuck off. Where’s Alex? Hmm, waiting in your room?”
Knight stares at me, his expression a perfect mask, giving nothing
away.
He walks toward me until I’m cornered, his palm pressing to my
stomach and driving me back against the wall. He tips my head back and I
can’t help but think how he was about to do that to her. I jerk in his hold,
and he grips my chin, keeping me still.
“You missed me, little doll. You sought me out.”
 “I didn’t miss you. I was pissed you stuck me in this loop of a room.
Pissed I can’t go home to be with my best friend.”
“Stop calling him that,” he growls. “And say be with him again. I
fucking dare you.”
“Why did you lock me up tonight?! I was allowed to leave earlier. Why
not tonight?” I fight to get free, but his hold is unrelenting. “Didn’t want me
to walk in on some freaky tag-team shit with Sinner?” The thought alone
draws heat to my skin, and I shove at him.
Knight only grins, but it’s nasty. “You think I’d care to hide me fucking
someone else from you, ’cause I wouldn’t. If I wanted to put my dick in
every bitch in this realm, I would. I might even force you to watch as
punishment for denying me.”
“You fucked me in a field hours ago. How was that for denying?” I spit,
trying to knee him, but he only pushes closer, smashing me with his body.
“I’m not talking about here.” He cups me roughly between the legs, and
my head falls to the wall, teeth sinking into my lower lip to hide the
whimper that wants to escape.
God, his hands are divine. Big and strong. Rough.
Mine.
A frown pulls at my brows at the thought, but I don’t have time to think
on it as he continues.
“I’m talking here.” He taps his finger against my temple, slowly
dragging it to my chest, pressing above my left breast. “And here…way the
fuck back in there where your soul sits, buried behind weak Giftless
organs.” A frown mars his face as he stares at the spot he touches, as if
searching for something. “I can feel it,” he whispers, his eyes closing, scowl
doubling as he concentrates. “It’s there…something dark, and it’s reaching
for me, but I can’t fucking…” A low rumble begins in his chest and
something knocks behind mine, a sharp sting zinging down my spine. “The
shadow of the phantom,” he murmurs to himself. “It walks alone, buried…
bruised?”
Suddenly, his eyes fly open, and I stare at the stark whiteness of them,
the blue completely gone. Days ago, when I thought I was going crazy, they
terrified me.
Today? Not so much.
I want to know what makes them shift when he focuses on me like this.
I want to know what’s inside him.
I want to know what all these hands on me can do.
“Tell me you feel this,” he roughly demands. “Tell me I’m inside you.
That you’re not what you seem.” His entire body engulfs mine until I don’t
exist. It’s just his body, just him, that does. “Tell me that you’re worthy, my
little mate.”
His last line leaves him on a plea, almost as if he not only needs, but is
secretly desperate for me to be ‘worthy’ of…whatever this is.
It shouldn’t appeal to me.
I should knee him in the nuts for insinuating I’m not.
But he wants me to be.
Even if he didn’t mean for me to sense it, I did. I do.
Knight hates me, but he’s not one hundred percent sure he wants to
anymore.
Why does that make my insides burn for him?
I know it’s not what he means by the words, but I’m overcome with
using them the way I want right now.
“Let me show you how worthy I can be.” I reach inside his suit jacket,
gripping the latch of his belt.
Knight isn’t patient. He doesn’t wait, but understands, his palms falling
on my shoulders and urging me to my knees. He snatches my chin once
again. Pretty sure I’m going to have bruises on my body from him one of
these days. “So show me. Suck my cock like my good little slut would.”
 I whack his hands away but before I realize it, he hooks his arm around
my waist and spins me so fast that I crash against the shelf behind me. “Try
again.”
“Even if you were the last person on Earth…” I challenge, even though
I know deep down it’s not true. It falls from my tongue effortlessly. Like a
well-seasoned lie that I had recited all my life.
My eyes fall to the curve of his mouth. “Done.” He pulls me into his
body and before I can catch my breath, colors melt around me and
explosions of dust fall from above. My stomach flips upside down as he
shoves me out of the archway and the portal snaps shut behind us.
I shiver, rubbing my hands over my upper arms as ice touches my feet.
The lights are dim, but it’s obvious where we are. “Why’d you bring me to
the rink?” I turn to face him, searching the shadows that have fallen over his
face. The way his cheeks sink in slightly only eventuate the hard edges of
his chiseled jaw.
“You said even if I was the last person on Earth…” he stretches his arms
out wide, almost matching his smirk. “Have at it, girl…”
I pause, ignoring the fact that ice is melting beneath the soles of my
feet.
I take another step closer to him, reaching up to touch the side of his
cheek. For so long, it has been a constant back and forth with him, and
maybe I liked it. No—I definitely liked it. I can’t imagine anything else
ever being enough for me now that I’ve felt the fire of Knight’s wrath run
circles over my inner thighs. What if it was just us?
For right now. For just this second, or hour, it is. Is this why he swept
me away from everything else?
I am a fool.
I snatch my hands back before I can allow myself the possibility to
explore whatever it is that he’s implying, but I’m not fast enough because
my hand is wrapped in his just as quickly, as he shoves me closer against
his chest. “Do whatever you want to me, Little London.” I hold my breath
at his words, desperate for them to not feel so good. I hate that I can’t fight
him, and any time I do it only makes it taste that much sweeter once he has
me under his thumb.
He places his finger beneath my chin, tilting my face up until my eyes
meet his. I feel my stomach implode when our eyes collide, and I’d give
anything. Anything at all to allow myself to be lost in this moment forever.
With him. Nothing else and with no outside noise. “Anything.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I’d never had an issue being confident
amongst men—and women—alike. I’d walk into any room and fucking
own it, because everything is yours if you believe it is. This is different.
With him, it’s always so fucking different.
Stubbornly, I don’t allow him to see beneath my veil of lies. My hand
comes to his bare chest as I trace each muscle, right down to the line that
curves the middle of his abs. My skin burns hotter as time goes on, and any
time I think I’m going to run, I’m reminded why I don’t want to.
I stop above his belt buckle and think over my options.
One, I could just do as he says and take whatever I want from him. Get
him out of my system and fuck him until I’m done with him.
Or two, I could stop this whole thing and tell him to take me home.
Whether he listens or not is another story, but I could demand it. But then
what? Then I just obsess over this moment—over him—even more than I
already do?
Fuck that.
I yank his belt buckle off and bat my lashes up at him as my cheeks
heat. “Or you could do whatever you want to me?”
His hand covers mine as the muscles on each side of his jaw bounce. He
pulls the belt out from the loops and before I can even register what he’s
doing, it’s around the back of my neck and he tugs hard until I’m even
closer to him.
 “I like that better.”
It’s not until the air tightens around me that I realize he’s fastened it
around my neck. With the long part of the belt, he tugs playfully. “Mmmm.
I could get used to this. Maybe I do need to get you a collar…”
“A what now?” I stare blankly up at him but before I can ask another
question, his lips find mine. Everything that happened before has
evaporated into thin air, and anything that happens after is simply irrelevant.
My body finds him instantly and his hand leaves my hip, lowering to my
ass. He squeezes roughly as his tongue plays a tune with mine.
His teeth sink into my bottom lip and he finally drops the belt to bring
his other hand to my other ass cheek, lifting me from the freezing ground.
My legs wrap around his waist as my hands find themselves buried in the
mane of his hair. Right now, he’s not Knight Deveraux, the bane of my
existence. He’s Knight Deveraux, the man I want to fuck.
Again.
He steps us backward, tearing my cami off until his fingers find my
nipple. He releases my mouth from his, staring up at me. I hate when he
does this because I swear I can feel my heart thrash a little harder in my
chest. Probably trying to warn me to run.
“Let go…” he whispers against my mouth, his brows pulling together
when he focuses on my lips.
“What? I’ll fall.”
His mouth curves upward in a wicked smirk. “Will you?”
I unlatch my fingers from around the back of his neck, holding my
breath. He’s a douchebag, I know that—but there’s a part of me that wants
to test everything he gives me. I want to edge him near just as much as he
does to me. It’s probably a toxic trait—yet another to add to my lengthy list.
I go to fall backwards but grab onto his shoulders at the last minute. He
doesn’t flinch, holding my stare. It’s almost in challenge. “I can’t figure you
out.”
 “Not your job to do that, Little London.” His head tilts to the side as he
finally breaks eye contact and his fall to my chest. His thumbs run circles
over my upper thighs. “What do you think’s gonna happen?”
“You’ll drop me.” The words leave me beneath a breath.
He chuckles. “Let’s find out.”
Before I can figure out what’s happening, my hands are forced apart and
I’m falling backward. I want to scream, to yelp, but my pride chokes it all
down and when I don’t hit the ground, I slowly peel my eyes open. “Holy
shit.”
“Say that fucking name one more time and see what the fuck happens.”
I go to reach forward, when the sound of cracking snaps through the air
and I tilt my head backwards to see a rope of ice growing from the ground.
It breaks off into two before knotting around my wrists.
I growl softly, tugging on them. “Knight…”
A deep snicker leaves his chest from somewhere in the room. I don’t
know where because now I can’t even push myself up to see where he is.
Wind floats over my spine from below, and I think over all the dumb
situations I’ve managed to get myself into where Knight is concerned.
My fingers wrap around the iced rope and before I can say anything
else, the warmth of his hands are on my upper thighs and he spreads my
legs wide, stepping between them.
I arch my back. “Unleash me.”
“No.” His hand covers my lower belly. “You’ve got a bad habit of being
a controlling little bitch, and I just so happen to like breaking said habits.”
He presses his thumb against my clit and my body burns to life.
“Knight…” I warn, even though I have no idea what I’m warning
against.
He clicks his fingers and just like that… the ceiling I was staring up at
turns black. My eyes are wide open but I can’t see. “Fuck.”
 “Shut up, London.” He drags his finger down my slit and I suck in a
breath when he stops right at my entrance. With both hands, he pulls me
closer and warmth covers my pussy. I sink my teeth into my lip as his
tongue finds its way around my clit slowly. He doesn’t rush. Almost like he
knows that every second that passes I’m about to lose it. My toes curl as I
tug on the rope again, desperate to feel anything. To feel him.
Then he stops. That warmth gone.
“Agh! Knight!” My body convulses slightly, not enough to shake off
from an orgasm, but enough for it to be a tantrum that it didn’t get one.
He laughs darkly and I swear it leaves bite marks all over my exposed
flesh. “You’re too fucking easy.”
My jaw tightens. I hate that I’m at his mercy and he’s enjoying it, but at
the same time heat swims deep in my chest at the thought of him being
here. With me. Doing stupid shit that we shouldn’t be doing.
The belt around my throat tightens again and my smile falls. His cock
rests against my pussy and my body reaches for him slightly, even though I
don’t want it to. Fuck my life. He must wrap the belt around his wrist
before tugging on it roughly just as the brightness from the room burns the
retinas in my eyes. I blink a few times, allowing myself to adjust back to the
ambient lighting when I see him above me, his hair falling over his
forehead slightly and his lips swollen and glistening from my pleasure.
Damn. He looks really hot right now.
He looks down between our naked bodies, leaving his hand on the grip
of that damn belt. “Kind of wanna record this to save it in my memory
bank.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
He doesn’t look back up at me but I see the corner of his mouth curl up
in a grin just as the tip of his cock presses against my entrance. My body
tightens around him as he forces himself deeper and deeper inside.
“Oh—”
 He tugs on the belt roughly as his other hand slams over my mouth right
as his pelvis slams against my ass as he buries himself inside. “Fuck,
London. I swear to fucking Satan that I’m going to fucking tear you apart
and put you back together exactly as I want you to be. Without mentioning
his name.”
My body pulses around him as he withdraws slightly, moving his hand
from my mouth. He looks down over me, brushing his lips over mine before
running the tip of his nose over the side of my jaw. “Kind of wanna bite
you.”
“Do it,” I moan, riding against his movements.
The crowns of his teeth find the side of my throat as he slowly sinks
them into my skin.
“Release my hands.”
“No.” He growls against the wound on my neck. His tongue slides over
the dampness as he continues to move inside of me.
“Please?”
He smiles against my skin. “Good girl.”
The cool ropes release my wrists and I finally bring my hands to his
back, scraping my nails down his shoulders. A deep growl vibrates from his
chest and I draw closer, like a moth to a flame. I wince when I feel the size
of him continue to stretch me out, but the tingles burn through my fingertips
and heat me from the inside out. My nipples tighten as he picks up speed.
His hand that was on the buckle of the belt comes to my jaw, where he
bit into me. He forces my face up to his, resting his forehead on mine. “I
fucking hate you.”
“Ditto!” I mean for it to come out harsh, but it leaves my mouth
breathlessly.
He squeezes tightly around my jaw until I’m sure it’s about to crack.
Just as I’m about to pull away, afraid he may take it too far, I stumble over
the cliff I ran up to chase my orgasm and my body jerks through the
burning sensation that rips through me.
He pulls out just in time, until hot liquid spits over my belly. I don’t
even bother to ask him to put me back down onto the ground from whatever
levitation he has me floating, when he swipes his hand through his cum and
brings his thumb to my lips. “Mmm. Taste familiar to you?”
I wrap my lips around his thumb and suck him off. “I don’t know.
Maybe I should go taste someone else to double-check?” The air between
me and the ground disappears and my back hits the hard ice in an instant.
“Ouch!” I laugh through the pain, rolling to the side and reaching for my
discarded clothes. He’s too quick when he swipes them away from me and
tosses me his shirt instead.
“Aw. You’re so mad at me that you give me your shirt?” I bat my lashes
up at him even though I know he’s seconds away from fucking my shit all
the way up.
Forcing me into his arms with the belt that’s still around my neck, he
laughs against my lips. “Would you rather not have one at all? Because I
mean, we can do that?” I don’t even see the portal when he shoves us both
through.
Asshole.
 Twenty-Seven

K night

S ’ , .
My bed.
Why I brought her in here, I don’t know.
Nah, that’s a lie. I wanted to see her frosty hair spread along my black
sheets to decide if I liked the way it looks or not. Turns out I do.
Like the way she looks in my room, period.
No one’s ever been in here, but I’m not about to tell her that. Girls like
to throw that shit in your face when things go to shit, and they always go to
shit. I’ve seen it more times than I can count with my father and his many
mistresses.
Reason number one we stick to the primal part of being Gifted. Fuck
and forget. Don’t pretend I’m interested in more than the velvet between a
woman’s legs. Not that I can even stomach the thought of fucking anyone
else right now.
Alex offered. When her words didn’t work, she stripped down in the
foyer, my brothers and parents right there to witness, but no part of me was
intrigued in the free feast I was offered.
 In fact, when I pushed closer to her to tell her so, bile rose in my throat,
then came anger, and I had to get the fuck out.
Get back to my girl.
To my pussy.
Mate.
My brows furrow and I stare at her chest as it rises and falls, her nipples
hard and pebbled as she sleeps, looking like a dark angel I want to climb on,
clip her wings, and run my claws through them, if only to keep her from
flying away.
It’s fucking annoying.
I shouldn’t want her to stay, but I’m not sure I hate the idea of her being
mine anymore. She’s feisty.
Fiery, and our bodies fit like the moon and midnight.
Now that I recognize the feeling, I’ve sensed it since day one.
Since that first game back on Earth.
Maybe before that.
But she’s weak.
Giftless.
“I thought you couldn’t mate with a Giftless?” I growl, teeth clenched.
Zhara raises her brow, her pierced tongue sliding over her lip. “You
can’t.”
My conversation with the Mage comes back with a vengeance, and
when I feel warm liquid roll down my chest, I look down.
Claws. Large, black, sharp claws escaped my fingertips, and this time I
didn’t even feel them. My Ethos is like a beacon within my chest, calling to
the girl beside us. The girl who cannot be what she seems.
Our gifts don’t reach for those without one.
Our gods don’t give us broken fates.
The Deveraux descendants who have turned to ash and seeped into the
soils of this ground wouldn’t allow her within these walls without ripping
into her mind if they didn’t know something I don’t. If they couldn’t see
beyond the veil I’m blocked by when I try to dig inside her.
Blood rolls down my ribs from where my claws sank into my flesh, and
London stirs, her nose lifting into the air. Her eyelids flutter slightly and my
pulse pounds heavy in my chest.
She’s scenting me, like she knows I’m hers.
So why won’t she admit it? Claim her right?
Slowly, her eyelids open, big blue eyes meeting mine before dropping to
the cuts on my stomach.
She doesn’t jump or panic. She yawns, frowning at the spot. “You’re
bleeding.”
I wait for more.
For her to freak out and try to help me. To lick my wounds ’cause the
sight of her injured mate makes her feel sick inside, overcome with anger
and fury like I felt when I saw her cry. Saw her bleed when it wasn’t the
result of my bite.
But she doesn’t do any of that.
London stands, and when she does, she hides herself from me, wrapping
a blanket around her body as she slips from the bed.
I push up, pissed off as I watch her toe into her shorts and pull the cami
back on like it’s the most annoying thing. She doesn’t want to wear
restricting clothing.
She wants a T-shirt, like the half dozen I took from her room that
belonged to another man. A lesser, fucking, worthless, Giftless man.
She faces me, and I scoot to the edge of the bed, my legs falling open,
waiting for her to come to me.
London looks to the door. “When do I get to go home, Knight?”
My lip curls and I fly off the bed. She’s thinking about leaving me while
I’m thinking about keeping her?
Fuck her.
 Fuck this.
“How about never.”
Her head snaps back this way.
Good. I have her attention. “Maybe I’ll keep you locked up here until
your worthless, Giftless body grows old and gives up on you.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Am I laughing?” My brows lift. “You think I have to send you back?
Because I don’t. Humans can be pets here. Maybe I’ll put a collar around
your neck and force you to eat off the fucking floor.”
Fear creeps into her blue eyes, and I punch the wall beside her head.
I fucking hate to see it.
“Why are you doing this?” she shouts. “If you don’t like me, why am I
here? Why did you take me from my home?!”
“I am your fucking home!” I scream, feeling my gift rise to the surface.
“That’s the fucking problem!”
Her head tugs back, confusion heavy in her gaze. “I don’t understand.
You kidnapped me.”
“I didn’t take you. I was given you,” I force past clenched teeth. “Fate
made you for me.”
“I am not yours.”
“You are!” I boom. “Why are you fighting me?!”
“What are you talking about, Knight?” she screams, tears in her eyes.
“I’ve done my best not to freak out, and considering, I think I’ve done a
good job. You’re being unfair.”
“Unfair is feeling like my insides are fucking bleeding out and the only
person who can fucking fix them refuses to!”
“I don’t even know what that means because you keep talking in riddles
and you tell me nothing!”
“Because you should know!” My body vibrates with anger, my eyes
changing as my power takes over. As my monster hovers beneath my skin,
his teeth sink deep into my flesh as he tries to eat himself free. To get to
her.
He wants her, and he wants her now.
He’s tired of waiting.
London shakes before me, her tiny little body fragile and vulnerable as
she looks up at me with pleading eyes, but she chooses the wrong words at
the wrong moment. “I want to see Ben and—”
I snap. Taking her throat in my hand, I squeeze, pressing my body
against hers when she starts to fight.
“My seed has been buried inside you. You’ve swallowed my blood.”
She claws at my hands, tears leaking down her cheeks, but I tighten my
grip, my entire body shaking, my being demanding I stop this.
That I release her.
Protect her.
But it’s like I said.
I’m done waiting.
“I need to know, little doll. I need you to feel what I feel. To ache like I
ache.” Her face turns purple, her hands falling to her sides. “I need to know
it’s you I was created for.”
Focusing, I follow the shallow thump of her beating heart, closing my
eyes and envisioning the arteries connected to it, waiting, watching as it
stutters.
And finally…it stops.
Silence.
I release her, catching her lifeless body in my grip and carrying her back
to…her room.
I lay her down on the bed, licking tears from her cheeks before running
my lips along hers, jolting back when the touch shocks me.
I step away, staring, waiting for the moment her heart recharges.
For it to call out to mine and beat as one.
 But she doesn’t stir.
She doesn’t wake.
Panic like I’ve never felt flares in my chest, and my hands fly out at my
sides, palms facing forward as the claws I was just starting to get used to
grow into talons, and before I know what’s happening, they’re dragging
across my own chest.
Groaning, I drop to my knees and they dig deeper. They don’t stop until
the razor ends scrape against my bone. A growl rattles from my lips as my
teeth descend into sharp points and I pant, my back bowing when I feel the
points digging beyond the tough tissue of my heart, forcing its way beyond
it.
“Knight!” Sinner shouts from somewhere behind me. “Creed, get the
fuck in here, he’s—he fucking stabbed himself!”
He drops to my side, Creed rushing in and falling before me.
“He’s…holy fuck, I think he’s changing. The bonding.” He looks closer.
“I think his bonding is almost complete. Knight?” He grips my face, trying
to look into my eyes, but all I see is London.
Dead in the center of the bed.
The Mage was wrong.
The fates were fucking wrong.
She’s not Gifted. She didn’t come back to life.
And now, my gift wants to claim mine.
 Twenty-Eight

L ondon

T . I
read that Ring Around the Rosie had a dark background. I don’t need to
read more about it to feel it right now. It’s one of my favorites, next to
London Bridge is Falling Down, of course. That’s the best one.
When no one’s watching, I like to walk the path between Argent and
Stygian, the path from light to dark and pretend the bridge is crumbling
beneath my feet. I laugh at the users of Light Magic when they scream and
run. At least, that’s what they do when I picture them in my head.
My feet dangle back and forth to the tune as the teacher at the front of
the class moves her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Words leave her
mouth, but I can’t see past the girl in front of me. She isn’t just any girl. She
is my best friend. I reach forward to touch her shoulder as her long, silky,
ink-colored hair falls over her shoulder. She is lifting her hand above the
small garden on her table, reciting a spell the teacher has had us working
on all week.
“Terra aqua indiget sicut venae sanguine. Imple hanc humum et
medullis et sanguine.” The Latin words roll off her tongue with ease. Earth
needs water like veins need blood. Fill this soil up with both marrow and
blood.
I hold in my laugh as I reach for her shoulder finally. She turns, her
eyes meeting mine, when a blood-curdling scream pierces my ears. Ice
grows over her face like poisonous vines would a perfectly flowered tree
and I watch in horror as my best friend’s eyes turn a pale shade of white.
Hands come from behind, wrapping around my eyes.
“It’s okay, Villaina.” Her soft voice calms me instantly, and I swallow.
“It’s just an illusion. Remember the spell I taught you?”
Nodding, I close my eyes and square my shoulders, reciting the words in
my head.
The hands leave my face, and when I open my eyes, my best friend’s
blue eyes stare into mine. “Got ya.”
Launching off the bed, I can still feel the frost particles stuck in the back
of my throat when everything comes back into view. The room.
The bed.
The dresser.
The distinct smell of spice and soap. I turn to the side, seeing Knight
asleep beside me. I reach to touch the smudges of blood all over his chest as
my throat clogs with emotion I’m not ready to touch right now. His skin is
warm, and I close my eyes and inhale, laying my palm over his chest. Thud.
Thud. His heart beats against my hand, and for whatever reason, I breathe
out a sigh of relief as my shoulders sag forward and tears prick the corners
of my eyes.
What happened? Why do I remember weird things but don’t remember
it being me? I slowly shuffle off the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping
monster. Tiptoeing around the room, I look at it from a different light.
When I got here, I didn’t ask myself the smaller questions that I probably
should have.
 Like, why did I feel a connection to Knight, and was it possible that
everything he has been saying has some truth to it? Not that he’s said much
more than “I’m his”.
“Fuck,” Knight whispers from behind me, and I fold my arms in front of
my chest, slowly turning to face him. He blows out a deep breath and falls
backward, his arms spread wide.
“What is happening to me?” My throat swells again, and I hate that I
have to force myself to not cry. I don’t fucking cry. I’m the one who makes
people cry, so why the fuck do I feel all twisted up right now? My stomach
coils together, and the more time goes on, the more it tightens.
“Shit, London.” He shifts up the bed, the sheet resting just below where
his abs cut down into a V. He runs his hand through his dark hair, his eyes
finding mine, and if it wasn’t for the low ambiance of the red LED lighting
around the bed, I probably would have missed the wild look in his eyes.
Like a deranged animal being starved of his favorite meal, his cheeks
are sharper than usual with a tint of pink, and the bloodstains all over his
chest lead a trail up his neck and to his face. No wounds, from what I can
see.
“Your heart beats.” His tone is scratchy, the sheer awe in it tugging
something deep inside me. “You’re…the fates got it right. You were made
to be mine.”
“Knight.” I choke on his name, and he shoots up from the bed and is in
front of me in a flash. He braids his hands into my hair ever so gently, and I
lean up to look at him from below. “I don’t understand.”
The urgency I craved to be home, to the comfort of Ben, has dwindled
out like a candle on its final little burn of wick. I shiver in Knight’s hold but
lean closer into him, needing his touch on me. Like it’s the only thing I ever
want again.
I don’t want to go anywhere; I want to stay right here. I need to.
Please don’t make me leave.
 “Are you hungry?” he asks lazily.
My stomach rumbles and I blink up at him. “Yes. Weird.”
He chuckles but tucks me beneath his arm and directs me to the door.
“Actually, hunger is the least weird thing that’s happened and about to
happen to you, baby, but let’s get you fed.”
I let him walk me down the long hallway, bypassing the family
portraits. I never asked him how many siblings he has. I mean, the room
belonged to someone, or so the maid insinuated, but chances are she was
telling the truth. There were personal items scattered throughout. Yet
another thing I didn’t ask myself upon waking here.
We hit the bottom of the stairs and he leads me down to where I can
hear laughter and chatting. Shit. My feet stop and he pauses, turning back to
look at me.
“What’s the matter?”
Bats fly around my belly as I think about going in there and seeing
everyone. “Your brother and mother don’t necessarily like me, Knight.” I
don’t mention his father, unsure I want to know what to expect from the
head of the Deveraux house.
“Psshh…” He waves me off. “They don’t like anyone. It’s nothing
personal.” A sense of calm washes over me like I’ve just taken a hit of
weed and I find his eyes on mine. “I promise. I would never put you in
danger of someone else. Only me.” All of the panic I felt moments ago is
replaced by one bit of certainty that I still don’t understand.
I trust him. The why isn’t even a question my mind will allow. I just…
do.
Tucking myself back beneath his heavy arm, I let him walk me farther
down the hall. When we round the corner, I wish I hadn’t come down here.
Shit. Everyone is here.
His mother’s back is turned to me at this end of the table, his father
directly opposite. His father is clearly where they all get their size from.
I’ve never seen muscles—hell—even limbs as large as I do right now. He
shifts an arm, and all of the veins swollen beneath his flesh ripple up his
neck as his eyes snap up to mine. He has deep black eyes, dark hair, and
pale skin. Fear stirs beneath my skin when he settles on me, and for the
sixteenth time since waking, I’m once again wondering why the fuck I’m so
quick to trust the man at my side.
He’s a powerful being of some sort, and I’m just London.
I don’t look around the table at the brothers because I can’t take my
eyes off his father. I almost don’t want to in case he kills me before I can
blink.
“Interesting,” he murmurs, leaning back in his chair. His eyes fly
between Knight and me before he gestures to the table. “Sit. I’m sure we
can get someone to bring you something you eat, London.”
His mother’s back stills, but Knight is already directing us both around
the table, pulling out a chair beside Legend and gesturing for me to sit.
I don’t ask how he knows my name. He probably knows everything
about me.
I slowly lower myself down as Knight takes the other side. Creed is
directly opposite me, with Sinner beside him. It isn’t Knight’s hostile
mother or shady father that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing
up.
It’s Creed, the moment his eyes meet mine.
At first, they’re the normal hard I’m used to when pointed at me, but
then they change. Darken and narrow. His muscles grow stiff and I watch
his knuckles grow white around his fork.
His lip curls up in disgust, and he doesn’t hide it. I’m desperate to ask
what the fuck I did to him to warrant such a fucking cold-ass reception.
This isn’t new. He has always hated me, but it’s somehow intensified as
time has gone on. Tonight? That shit is overflowing.
 My fingertips tingle in a way they never have before, almost as if in
preparation of a fight I could never win, so I hide them beneath the table,
locking them together.
“Creed,” Knight snaps, but he doesn’t break. “Brother or not, I’ll kill
you if you come near her.”
In my peripheral, their mother’s chest rises at Knight’s statement, but I
don’t look her way, and I don’t need to know she doesn’t like the shift in
Knight’s loyalty.
Honestly, I’m not so sure I understand it, but I don’t doubt his threat. I
feel its certainty deep in my bones, like a wicked whisper across my soul,
petting and soothing my beating heart.
Creed slowly backs up, stabbing his fork into the slab of meat on his
plate as he brings it up to his mouth. His fangs slide out as he bites into the
animal and chews slowly, blood dripping down the corner of his mouth.
Knight’s hand comes to my thigh and a bolt of electricity ripples
through me. My eyes roll to the back of my head as images flick through
my brain.
“We’re going to be best friends forever!”
I hold my pinkie out to her. “Forever, Temperance.”
I panic, stumbling back from the table, and the chair falls to the ground
in a crash. Colors blur in the corner of my eye as Knight and his father
shoot up from their chairs. “No, Villaina! You—no!” A loud scream pierces
my ears and I fall to the ground, covering my ears and face. When Knight’s
hand comes to my arm, my eyes pop open and all of the tears I held in
explode over my cheeks.
Horror slams into me, and I cling to Knight’s arm like a lifeline. Maybe
if I hold on to him, he won’t leave me. He can’t leave me. I’m his. He said
that and he’s mine. Nothing changes fate.
Fate is never wrong.
 “I…” I swallow, the words like sharp spikes slicing up my throat. “I
remember.” My voice comes out so low, a Giftless would never hear it. But
there are no Giftless here.
Not even me…
I’m a fucking—
Creed barks out a laugh, the sound of his chair scratching the marble
floor as he stands to his full height, making me jolt. I bring my knees to my
chest, squeezing tightly.
Everything was a lie. A lie told to conceal what I had done.
I’m going to be sick.
“It’s amusing to me that none of you questioned this infatuation Knight
had with a Giftless.” Creed shoots back whatever was in his glass, his eyes
resting on me. “Clearly she’s not one. And she’s not London either.”
“What the fuck, Creed!” Knight snaps, his voice low. So low I felt the
vibration of his tone over my bones. “I’ve warned you.”
“Creed, what the hell are you talking about?” their mother demands, and
the whole room falls silent, waiting for him to say the words.
I know once it’s out that I’m dead. That whoever has put the cloak over
my memories, their magic wasn’t strong enough to withhold the mating
process. That when they did it, they never expected me to find my way back
to Rathe, or more importantly, to him.
How did I?
Creed holds my stare, his fangs descending, glistening under the flicker
of the floating candlelight. “Before she became London Crow, she was
Villaina Lacroix.” The room falls deathly silent. A swirl of cold air wraps
around my body as my heart slows in my chest.
Their mother flies to her feet. “Impossible!”
“Lacroix?” Knight growls, he and his other brothers looking around the
table with confusion.
Legend slowly stands. “As in Acheros Lacroix?”
 Sinner shouts to his feet, “The fucking Slasher?”
Knight shakes his head. “What the fuck?”
Knight’s chest jerks, his eyes rolling back, and at first I don’t understand
why, but then he stills. And I know.
It wasn’t only my memories that were wiped.
His were too.
All of ours must have been.
Mine were the first to return now that the lock on my gift has been
broken.
Knight’s are the second, and if the images that flashed through his mind
were as vivid and haunting as mine, we might just obliterate Rathe right
here and now.
An angry Deveraux is deadly.
But a threatened Lacroix can be just as bad.
There’s a reason my father is the first story in the Book of Nightmares.
I don’t know why, but I call out to my mate, to the man created to love
and protect me with all he has, is, and will be. My soul cries in despair.
Knight doesn’t look at me, but deep within my chest, I feel the tear as
the past catches up with the present, revealing all the secrets I didn’t know I
had. The pull that’s been there for weeks that I didn’t understand, only this
time, it isn’t drawing me toward my mate.
It’s my mate pulling away. He’s trying to sever the bond we’ve only just
created.
The bond that is still not yet complete.
I gasp, my lungs robbed of air as a portal shoots up in front of Knight.
He spins, falling backward, his hard, dead eyes locked on mine. He
disappears through the marble colors as I stumble my way to my feet.
After all this time, I finally feel a connection to Knight, and he’ll hate
me now. No longer want me. Does it matter to me? I know who this family
is now.
 Deveraux, the God of Hell and his mistress of Sin.
The Lords of Darkness.
The royal family of Stygian.
These boys aren’t what I thought—oh no—they are worse. The demonic
monsters that hide behind their human form are the opposite of what they
are now.
The woman who was once my queen, stares at me with dead eyes,
mumbling quietly to herself as she pieces parts of the puzzle I’m still
missing together. “The nursery rhyme you used to sing…”
London’s Bridges.
London…
Oh shit, someone—
The queen lifts her chin and my thoughts die with the murderous look
that washes over her pale face.
“Please…” I plead. “I didn’t—”
“Kill. Her,” their mother wails, and I watch as fire rolls around their
father in a tornado of ash. Panic grips my throat as I look to any of them for
help. Legend. He’s always been the kind one, but even he steps backward,
disappearing through the dark cloud of smoke.
I squeeze my eyes closed, succumbing to my fate. In Rathe, we Bleed. I
whisper the words of death to plead with the gods to give me a direct pass-
through when an arm hooks around my waist.
“Focus on your gift!” the female hisses, and briefly, I catch the blue
eyes of the maid before I’m being sucked through a fusion of colors.
My stomach rolls as my body floats through the air, but by the time I
figure out I’ve been thrown through a portal, my feet land on the carpet and
the familiar space hits me.
Home.
A piece of paper is the first thing I notice on top of the carpet, and I
drop to my knees to grab it, opening the folds.
L ,
Despite my efforts, you find yourself closer than you should ever be,
so listen to me, young Crow, as it may be your only hope.
You must never go near Rathe U. See this as a warning. Everyone
you’ve ever loved will die.
Your G.

I .A .I
letter I found all those weeks ago? Why the fuck didn’t I open it?
Who would warn me away?
Who knew I wasn’t really London Crow but Villaina Lacroix?
Flipping it backward, I try to find any other details when his voice
catches my attention.
“London?”
I whip around, a different kind of relief washing over me.
“Ben!” I cry out, rushing to where he’s standing, his eyes wide on me.
“Oh my god, I’ve missed you!”
I throw my arms out as I run to him, and my best friend smiles wide,
ready to accept me in his warm embrace, but then his face falls, the flesh on
his throat splitting wide open.
Blood fills the wound before a sharp dagger materializes in front of him.
His body falls to the ground and everything moves in slow motion.
Knight appears, his eyes slicing to mine as he swipes the end of his
blade along the base of his tongue.
“No…” My legs turn to jelly as I drop to the ground near Ben. “It can’t
be real,” I whisper, knowing this is as real as it gets. With shaky hands, I lift
his head, gently placing it on my lap. I push my hand over the incision, but
blood only slides between my fingers. “Please. No.” Tears fall from my
eyes as pain stabs me through the chest and takes hold of my heart, tearing
it straight out.
“You took from me. I take from you,” Knight announces, but I can’t. I
can’t even fucking look at him.
“Ben!” I shake his body, forcing his eyes to mine. I watch as the hazel
eyes I found comfort in, that I felt most at peace and at home, slowly dilate.
His pulse weakens against his neck as his body turns limp in my grip.
“Ben.” A wail so loud tears through my vocal cords and I taste the faint
metallic liquid at the back of my throat. I ease him down, shooting to my
feet.
A scream ripples through my body, the sound so loud the earth shakes
beneath my feet, and then silence.
My eyes snap up to meet cool, cold-blue ones.
“You killed my best friend.”
Knight lifts his chin. “You killed my sister.”
His words are sharp and true, and if I weren’t so fucking numb, they’d
be painful, too.
Because, yes.
I was the daughter of the boogeyman Argent mothers warned their
children about, expected to be a monster as he came to be, but the king and
queen of my people, of the Stygians, saw me as an innocent little girl.
And then I killed theirs.
I murdered Temperance Deveraux, the princess of Dark Magic.
My then best friend.
My mate’s very own…triplet.
Too many emotions swirl within me, but my brain has shut down,
blocking them all out until all that is left…is rage.
Burning, boiling rage.
I get it now, why my father turned on his kind.
 It’s too much, cuts too deep, like a blade forged from the bone of a
dragon.
That’s when I feel it, my Ethos, born of my bond. As weak and
incomplete as it may be, it’s tearing its way to the surface.
Ready for a fight, though it doesn’t yet know our fated is the target.
Knight’s eyes narrow and my mouth curves at the edges.
I don’t call on my new gift.
I become it.
Tears roll down my cheeks in steady streams, but I hardly feel them as a
flash of that last day with Temperance slips into my mind, Ben’s lifeless
body following.
My head tips to the side, every inch of me tingling with rage and it
bleeds into my warning of a whisper. “London’s bridge is falling down…”
And then everything goes black.
 Twenty-Nine

To be continued …

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 Thank You

Thank you so much for going on this ride with us! We hope you loved your
first taste of this new world because we are only getting started!!
Book two will be darker, dirtier, and so much more than you could ever
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REALLY SOON!

XoXo,

Amo and Meagan

 Acknowledgments

Oh man! The work that went into this baby.

We want to give a huge shout out to our editing team!

Paige, Ellie, Sarah P., Becca, Geissa, and Sarah S.! This would not have
been possible with out each and every one of you! So thank you so much!

To our personal teams, thank you girls for supporting us on this new
adventure…
even if we didn’t share all the details right away!

To the early readers who helped shout Fate of a Royal to the rooftops.
We appreciate you and all you do!

Lastly, to each and every reader who picks this up along the way, thank you.
Thank you for trusting us and taking the time read our words. It means
more than you know.

I’m pretty sure this was our best kept secret ever.
It’s funny, the fear that comes with sharing your mind and art in its rarest
form with another artist, but the way it disappeared after the very first line
was written…

We hope you loved every word as much as we do.

If you thought book one was addicting… just wait until book two.