I’m going to kill you. I hope you realize that…
A moan rumbled in the back of my throat, tearing from me like a whimper.
London’s threat rang in my head as he kissed me. My pulse thundered in response to both those words and the feel of his hunger, one that consumed both of us as we stood in the bedroom’s doorway.
My spine was pressed against the doorjamb. His fingers slid through my hair to grip my neck, holding me in place as he took my mouth with such ferocity that it stole my breath.
Our teeth gnashed, stinging my lips as he claimed my mouth before he pulled away. His eyes were dangerous, all dark and no stars. There was nothing but violence in him at that moment, nothing but wrath. Still, he clung to me like I was a tether to his soul, one he desperately fought for.
I was his tether, and he was mine.
A tether for my survival, and of my heart.
All three of us were connected, whether or not we wanted it.
His breath was a rush against my ear and his hands were frantic as they tugged my shirt up to cup my breast in one big hand.
“London,” I whispered, breathless as I glanced toward the double doors at the end of the hall.
He didn’t stop, just curled his spine and tugged the straps of my bra low. “This wing is off limits,” he whispered as he licked my nipple. “No one will see us.”
Still, it didn’t ease the fear until his teeth grazed that puckered, sensitive flesh, and drew me away. “Oh, God.” I closed my eyes and shuddered.
His hand delved between my legs and those strong fingers grazed along my slit. “Mine,” he murmured. “You’re fucking mine, you get that? Everyone will fucking know by the time I’m done…they’ll…all…fucking…know.”
Heat tore through me at those possessive words. My hips thrust forward as I met his hunger with my own. I drove my fingers through his hair and clenched tight, fisting the strands to drag his mouth to mine once more. I’d never wanted to belong to someone so desperately as I did right then, to him and the twins.
One day you’ll open your eyes and I’m going to have a gun to your head. I want to look into your eyes when I pull the trigger.
He broke the kiss and pulled away just enough to stare into my eyes. All I saw was desperation and the terrifying need for revenge. “I won’t fucking lose you. Do you hear me? I won’t lose you.”
He lowered his head and gently cupped my breast. “The tracker…”
I shook my head. “No. No more fucking trackers. You want to protect me, then you’ll treat me like the sons. Give me a phone…but no more goddamn trackers. No more things inserted in me against my will. Do you hear me, London? No. More.”
He went still. So still I waited for that monster to rear his head, to control and force and bend me to his will until I had no choice but to give in to him. London St. James was a monster.
He’d had to be.
Because it took a monster to destroy one.
But as I waited for that dominating force to consume me, a flicker of something else rose in his eyes. Something that snatched the breath from my lungs. His grip tightened around the back of my neck as he pulled me closer, so our lips touched. “I. Cannot. Lose. You. Again…it will destroy me. It will destroy all of us.”
This was as close to the truth as I’d ever come to his true feelings.
The closest he’d allowed me.
I saw it now.
London didn’t just love me.
He was consumed by me.
Just as I was consumed by him.
I kissed him, taking those hard, gorgeous lips until he gave into me. He palmed my breast, then dropped his hands to the button of my pants as a cramp ripped through my belly. Agony descended and tore through my belly until I rocked forward and moaned.
It was like a switch tripped inside him. His hands dropped as he pulled away. I opened my eyes to find his fixed on mine. “It’s okay.” I forced a smile that was more of a wince. “Just a cramp.”
That fist low down in my belly clenched tight, strangling something inside before it slowly eased. Jesus…I tried to catch my breath as the dark hallway brightened once more. London said nothing, just watched my breaths deepen as I straightened once more.
“You get many of those?” he asked.
Surprise flared as I nodded. “Yeah, some. Not usually as bad as this, though.”
One careful nod and he adjusted my bra, gently sliding it back upwards to tug my shirt low. He was tender and nervous. Was he worried that whatever they’d done to me had damaged me somehow? If he was, he didn’t voice his concern, just glanced behind me, then turned back. “I meant what I said before, none of the guards or the staff are allowed back here. It’s just us…to do whatever we need.”
Whatever we need…
“After I stop bleeding.” It was both a question and a statement, however he wanted to take it.
He gave a shrug. “I’ve had more than my fair share of blood on my hands, Vivienne. A little of yours will not rock me, as long as it’s this kind of blood, that is.”
“Oh?” My eyes widened in surprise.
His response was vastly differed from the disgust my foster father had displayed. He couldn’t wait for me to be out of his sight when I started bleeding, as though somehow this monthly curse was catching.
But London gave a shrug, those dark eyes narrowing on me. “Nothing that comes from you offends or disgusts me, pet. Everything is beautiful. Remember that.”
He gave a tight smile before glancing at the open door to the room. “But maybe we leave the exploration of this room for another day, shall we?”
I smiled, adjusted my clothes, and pushed off the doorjamb. “Yeah, it might be best.”
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you, pet.” He dragged his teeth across his lip. “They say an orgasm or two helps with the cramping.”
My clit pulsed in response. Christ, even his voice made me throb, making me bolder than what I felt. “I think I’d like that.”
His deep chuckle resounded as he held out his hand. “How about I show you your bedroom?”
I met his grin with my own as I slid my fingers between his. He led me back to the doorway beside this one.
“I’ll make a call.” He pushed the brass handle and opened the ornate black bedroom door, pushing it wide as he finished. “And have the doctor visit just to make sure you’re okay.”
“There’s really no—” I started, to tell him everything was fine, but the noir majesty of the expansive bedroom stopped me. “Oh my God, London,” I whispered and stepped inside.
The size of the room dwarfed the massive bed. Black walls and ox-blood-colored furnishings filled the space. I stepped forward, moved to the bed first, and leaned over. Velvet and faux fur adorned the bottom.
“It’s not red,” he whispered. “I made sure they knew that, but I wanted to keep in tone with the—” I turned and lunged, to slam into him to wrap my arms around his neck.
I hadn’t realized how terrified I’d been to go back to that house and look at the same walls I’d stared at right before I—
Right before I—
I pressed my face against his chest as my throat thickened. My body trembled, and I knew the tears had come. My body jerked and shuddered as thick sobs tore free. I clung to him and felt him slowly slide his hands around me as though he didn’t know what to do.
I will kill you…
Those words clung in my mind. I was wrong. He knew exactly what to do.
Still, he held me as my chest heaved and my breaths sawed. My tears flowed onto his chest as he held me. He didn’t speak, didn’t move. He was here, pulling me against his powerful body until my chest burned from the violence…and that was all I felt.
When I slowly straightened and lifted my head, there was only one face that burned a brand in my mind and it wasn’t Daniels’. It was her, that fucking bitch, Ophelia.
“They need to die, London.” I lifted my gaze to find him through the blur. “They need to fucking die. If not for me, then for all the other daughters.”
He looked down and held my stare, then slowly hooked my hair behind my ear. “I know, pet. Believe me…I know.”
I swallowed hard as he leaned lower and kissed the tears from my cheeks. I’d never felt safe in my life, never felt wanted or protected…not like I did now. They might’ve taken me, they might’ve done…this to my face and my body—a quake cut through me as I stared into the dark depths of his gaze—but there was no doubt retribution was coming…in the guise of this man.
Beep.
His phone ruined the moment. I saw the flicker of anger before he slowly pulled away and I left him to turn back to the creepy, glorious grandeur of the room.
His indistinct murmur came behind me as I walked back to the bed and bent low to drag my fingers along the plush bedding. The ache stabbed deep into my belly before I lifted my head to the cathedral doorway to a darkened room.
“The leak is secure?” London murmured. “Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep an eye on Daniels. I need him alive and talking…for a while, at least.”
While London spoke of that wrath he so desperately wanted, I reached in and skimmed my fingers along cold tiles, found the light switch, and flicked it on.
Blood red, black, and gold captured me as I stood nailed to the spot. My things were here. The same expensive bottles of perfume and makeup were lined along the black stone cabinet, but that’s where the past ended. I glanced at the massive black clawfoot bath to my left, then took in the expansive shower that took up most of the space on my right. Black subway tiles were accentuated with…what looked like a snake.
I stepped closer and reached out to touch the cool surface and dragged my finger along the pattern.
“If you hate it…” London started behind me.
I turned, to find him in the doorway, and shook my head. “No.” My pulse thundered. “No, I don’t hate it.”
He exhaled with relief. “They say snakes are a symbol of rebirth, transformation, and healing. So the moment I saw this room, I knew it was for you.”
“The others don’t have this?”
He smiled. “No, pet. This one is special.”
I turned back to that symbol of rebirth and touched it once more. “I love it.”
Beep.
His phone chimed once more. “I have to go,” he said. “But the sons are here and I’ll be back as soon as I can. You and I need to talk about what happened at the Ares’ meeting.”
I tried to nod, but my belly tightened as a cramp caught my breath. I braced my hand against the wall and doubled over.
The heavy thuds of his steps came behind me. The brush of his finger along my back came as I closed my eyes with the pain. “The doc will be here to give you something for the pain, and Colt is anxious. Use him, pet. Give him a purpose and take what you need.”
My pain mingled with desperation as his hand fell away, and I heard the sound of his steps again, this time retreating. My thoughts turned to Carven and the hostile way he looked at me.
You better be worth it. Those words came back to me as I turned around to watch London walk out the bathroom door. Because if daddy dearest doesn’t want you, we’re as good as dead. You get that, right?
He wasn’t talking about London, was he? My pulse boomed. Was he talking about… “Who is King to me?”
London stopped, standing at the foot of that majestic bed. But he didn’t turn.
I took a step just outside the bathroom doorway. “Answer me, London. Who is he?”
His shoulders sank with a sigh. “He’s your father,” he answered before he went out the door.
Leaving me behind…
With my cheeks burning.
He’s your father.
Anguish filled my chest. Deep down, I’d suspected. I mean, why else would a man like London St. James want someone like me if not to use me for my bloodline? It stung to actually hear the words. Then the tears threatened again.
But I was all cried out. I was empty, so fucking empty, nothing more than a hollow shell of the person I’d once been. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hate them all. But there was no end to that hate because it had started well before London.
It had started with my father.
King.
I stumbled toward the bed and climbed up onto the plush bedding. But I barely felt it, just the booming in my chest. I stayed like that, legs curled underneath me, staring into nothing as my belly cramped and ached.
Hours passed until finally a soft knock came at my door.
Was it London? “Yeah.”
The handle tilted and Colt stepped in. Those dark blue eyes scanned the room before settling on me with my hand fisted at my belly. Concern flared as he stepped in, carrying a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other.
“Hungry?” he questioned.
Tears came as I shook my head. I turned away as he stepped closer and hovered at the foot of the bed.
“He hurt you?” The question was a snarl.
I jerked back, to find him staring at me with a look of pure rage on his face. What could I say? Yes, no…maybe? Maybe they all had, or maybe I’d just hurt myself?
In the end, I slowly shook my head. “No, it’s just my period. It makes me emotional as fuck until I stop bleeding.”
Colt stiffened. His face turned pale as he glanced at the fist pressed against my abdomen. “He did fucking hurt you. That motherfucker.”
He turned before I knew it and placed the wrapped plate of sandwiches on the foot of the bed. The bottle of juice slipped from his hold to drop to the floor as he strode to the door. I lunged from the bed, scurrying to get to him before he hit the door. “No, Colt…wait!” I yanked his arm, forcing his gaze to mine. “He didn’t hurt me.”
He scowled, searching my gaze. “You said you’re bleeding.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks and I readied myself for disgust. “I have my period, that’s all.”
“Period?”
I flinched, narrowing in on that confused stare. “Yeah, my period. You know, where I bleed every month?”
He stepped closer until he towered over me. “You bleed…every month?”
God, he was so close…towering over the top of me, confused, angry…a powder keg ready to explode. “Yeah, I do.”
“Show me.”
I jerked my gaze to his, my eyes widening. “What?”
His jaw flared in anger, searching my gaze. “I said, show me.”
I shook my head and took a step backwards. “You can’t be serious?”
Oh, but he was…deadly serious, in fact. Rage simmered just under the surface. “You’re trying to tell me you’re bleeding and London had nothing to do with it. So I want to see…I want to see what he didn’t do to you.”
My stomach sank.
The dark, moody room seemed to sway. “You can’t see.”
He stilled, then turned to the door. “Then I’ll take the bastard out now.”
“Wait!” I roared as he grabbed the handle. “Wait, okay!”
He stopped, his hand on the handle but he didn’t turn back. “Show. Me.”
“You don’t understand,” I whispered. “The blood comes from inside me.”
His head snapped to mine. Rage turned those blue eyes almost black. “Inside you?”
Jesus, I couldn’t believe I was explaining this. Surely he knew about a woman’s body? I winced, remembering how terrified he’d been after our first time, when he wasn’t the only virgin. He’d reacted badly, his eyes were wide and screaming as he shoved those blood-flecked sheets at me and shouted, I broke you!
But he hadn’t broken me.
I licked my lips and inhaled, knowing there was no other way out of this. “Fine.” His gaze bored into mine. “I said fine.” I looked away, my cheeks burning. “You want to see? Then I’ll show you.”
I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me.
God, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. My heart pounded as I pulled him with me toward the bathroom. “I swear to Christ, Colt. If you barf, or wince, or freak the hell out, I will never tell you anything like this ever again.” I swung around to face him. “Get it?”
He didn’t speak, those wide eyes still fixed on me as he gave a slow nod.
My heart hammered as I glanced at the door. London had said no one came to this wing. Still, I couldn’t take the chance. If anyone else walked in while I was doing this, I’d be mortified…even more than I was right now. I left him there, strode to the arched black door of the bathroom, and closed it, just in case.
He’d seen blood. There was no question about that.
But he hadn’t seen this blood.
My breaths raced as I made my way back to stand in front of the vanity. With my gaze fixed on his, I unbuttoned my slacks and pushed them low before I stepped out, leaving me in my panties. He scowled, then jerked his gaze to mine.
“You wanted to know,” I forced the words through clenched teeth. With my heart in the back of my throat, I slid my fingers under the waistband of my panties and shoved them down till they hit the tile floor. I froze, standing there naked from the waist down. I knew what I had to do now…but I couldn’t move.
Colt just stared between my legs, then met the panic in my stare. He wasn’t freaking out…not yet, anyway.
With all the courage I had, I widened my legs and reached down, grasped the string of the tampon, and gently tugged it free. Bright blood shone neon in the white bathroom lights. I watched his every reaction and took in the widening of his eyes, then the panic as he lifted his gaze.
Then…he moved.
He stepped forward and gently grabbed my hand with the string.
“You wanted to know,” my voice was a hoarse whisper. “So now you know.”
“You hurt?” He lifted my hand and gently took the string from my grasp.
I shook my head. “No. I mean, yes, but not in the way you think. I’m not injured, Colt. This happens to a woman when she…when she can get pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” There was panic in his stare.
Jesus, I did not know someone his age could be this…sheltered.
“Yes,” I answered. “I could have gotten pregnant every time we…every time we fucked.”
Heat moved through me with the words. He grabbed the tampon soaked with blood at the tip and stared at it. It did not horrify him like I’d expected. There was no gagging, no moans of disgust. There wasn’t even a flicker of revulsion in those blue eyes.
Instead, there was…intrigue.
“You bleed where I want to be.” He moved closer. I flinched as he slid his fingers between my legs and brushed my slit. “It hurts where you bleed?”
“Not exactly,” I whispered, unable to move as his fingers delved into the top of my slit and moved down to find my clit.
“Where do you hurt?”
“My uterus cramps to get rid of the blood.”
“Cramps?”
I slowly nodded as his fingers danced around that sensitive nub.
“So, this doesn’t hurt?”
I pinned my lip with my teeth and shook my head. “No, I sometimes…touch myself. It helps with the cramps.”
His brows shot high. “It helps?”
It was like I’d given him a green light. His fingers drove deeper until they reached toward my entrance.
I lashed out and grasped his big wrist to stop him. “You don’t understand,” I whispered. “I’m bleeding in there.”
He moved closer, so close our bodies pressed against each other. My heart was booming, driving all that heat straight to my core as he slipped his fingers inside me. My hand was still wrapped around his wrist and I felt his tendons flex as he pushed in deeper.
“You’re…different,” he whispered, his chest rising and falling hard.
“I swell,” I answered. “All the blood makes me…”
“Sensitive,” he finished for me as he slowly twisted his fingers inside.
I reached out, braced my other hand against the vanity, and moaned.
“So sensitive, Wildcat.” He pushed another finger inside.
It was all I could do to hold on. Long, languid strokes made me rock my hips to the movement until that throbbing need swept me away.
“Help you,” he murmured.
I panted and bucked against his bloody fingers and stared into those big blue eyes, eyes that seemed ancient and naïve all rolled into one. He’d known violence his entire life…now he knew pleasure…now he knew me.
I whimpered, gripped his wrist tightly, drove those big fingers all the way inside until they stopped. My body pulsed and opened, then sparks danced behind my eyelids as I clamped around those fingers…and came…hard.
“Colt…oh, God,” I moaned as I lowered my head against his chest.
That hard chest rose with a heavy breath. I slowly came floating back to reality and lifted my gaze to his…to find a smile. I should’ve known…I should’ve—
“I want to see again.” He searched my eyes. “Next time I want my cock here.” He pushed his fingers in a little deeper.
I trembled, my body plump and sated…for the moment. “Okay,” I answered meekly. “Whatever you want.”
His smile widened as he slipped his fingers free and looked down at the mess coating his fingers. I expected a little uneasiness at the sight. But then again, the sons were a breed of their own.
He clenched his fist instead, smearing the blood into his palm as I pulled his hand upwards and over to the sink. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He didn’t want to. I saw that, but he didn’t fight me either. In fact, Colt never fought me. He seemed like he was the only one. I hit the faucets and washed his hand before I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wet it, and cleaned myself up.
Colt watched every second, not once looking away as I flushed the mess down the toilet and pulled my clothes back on.
“Need to eat,” he urged. “And drink.”
It was his turn to capture my hand and lead me back to the bed. My body was spent and my feet throbbed, still bruised from the rocks when I’d tried to escape. So I let him lift me back onto the bed and move around the foot to find the bottle of juice on the floor and grab the wrapped plate of sandwiches.
“Go on,” he urged as he pushed the plate toward me. “Let me take care of you.”
