by Raven Dark
How much easier it would have been if it was only Hawk’s reaction—or lack there of—to me, or just the memory of the execution getting to me, but what was happening around me was almost worse.
I lifted my head, looking around. Men drank and smoked and got high, the green outside the main clubhouse filled with laughter and drunken speech. They were celebrating. One of their members had just been torn to shreds like a deer after a hunt, and they were partying. My stomach gave a violent lurch, watching them.
Pretty Boy and Steel remained close by, drinking and talking with some of the other men, but at least they were never far away. I saw no sign of Hawk or Sheriff. Hawk was probably up in his mountain cave again. I had no idea where Sheriff might be, but I couldn’t help feeling a little relieved he wasn’t there.
“Come here, Petal.” Steel had seated himself behind me on the grass and grabbed my waist, pulling me onto his lap. “I want you to stop this over-thinking thing you do. You need to relax and have a good time.”
Have a good time? I couldn’t wrap my head around that.
Steel had me turn and straddle him, then gripped my hips and rested his forehead on mine. “Look at me. You’re going to relax, got it?”
I shook my head at him. I was over-wrought. There was too much and not enough emotion swirling in my head. “I can’t. I don’t understand why we are celebrating something so brutal, Master,” I whispered.
His deep blue eyes were sympathetic. “We celebrate because we’re strong, because we’re alive. Our crew is everything, Petal. It’s safety. It’s life. We could have lost everything that made us the Dark Legion because of a traitor, but we didn’t. That’s why we celebrate.”
I didn’t say anything, just stared into those eyes. Understanding started to erase a measure of my turmoil. Would the life in the Grotto with the Dark Legion ever feel normal to me? I tried to see things from their perspective.
“Drink, woman,” Pretty Boy’s voice, from over my shoulder. I turned to see him standing there with two bottles of alcohol, one of which he held out for me.
“You want me to drink by the bottle, Master?”
Steel laughed so hard I almost fell out of his lap. I failed to see the humor in my question.
“Yeah, I do,” Pretty Boy said.
I sighed and took the bottle from him. It didn’t smell too strong; the scent reminded me of cinnamon. I took a tentative sip. It was surprisingly good.
“Thank fuck, PB. Now maybe we can enjoy ourselves tonight.”
I frowned at Steel’s words.
“Hey,” he said, taking my chin in his large hand. “You’ve been moping ever since we got back. You’re too beautiful to be moping. I’ve had enough, got it? It’s either I fuck some sense into you, or you trust us to take care of you.”
I almost rolled my eyes at him, but grinned. Any excuse for ‘fucking’ was Steel’s go-to, and even though I knew he could barely keep his hands off of me, I also know he liked to see me blush.
“See? There’s the real Petal. Sweet, innocent, and fucking sinful.” He gave my lips a quick kiss, then set me on the grass beside him. “I gotta go take a leak. I’ll be back.”
And of course, so eloquent.
I took another few sips of the sweet alcohol, feeling it settle like a nice flame in my belly. Pretty Boy drew me into his arms and started playing with my hair as the two of us watched a few men toss horse shoes. Someone had started a bonfire near us and it roared high and bright and warm. The sun was just starting to set while a light breeze caressed my skin. I watched the birds fly across the darkening sky and smiled. Seeing them gave me the reminder I needed. Life moved on. It created and destroyed, created a music of its own, a symphony of birth and death. It was perfect in the beauty it created, but such perfection could not come without an end.
More people started to gather around the bonfire. I heard the sounds of fiddles being tuned, and the notes brought me a dash of excitement. I loved music, but it wasn’t something I got to hear often.
“Master, I didn’t know you had musicians here.” I smiled back at Pretty Boy. I leaned back against his chest, my focus on the group of men close by tuning their instruments.
“We had them the night of the barbeque, don’t you remember?” Pretty Boy’s whiskers scraped my cheek.
He was right, I did remember hearing music now and again later that evening, but there’d been too much going on for me to pay it any mind.
“They’re not half bad either,” he said. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck, making me shiver. “Mmm…you smell so good. I should strip you naked right here on the grass and take you hard.”
Of course, my cheeks turned hot. Maker, would my body ever stop responding to these men? But then again, only my four masters could make me blush, no one else.
I turned my head to the side, looking up at Pretty Boy. His eyes were shut, a look of rapture softening his features. He took my breath away and made my heart rate speed up. Once again, he reminded me of one of those beings, the angels who served the Maker long ago in stories. I’d always thought of him as a dark angel, though he didn’t look so wild and frightening now.
I quickly turned back to the bonfire and drank deeply from the bottle once more.
“Hey, Violet,” Cherry called from somewhere on my right. “Mind if we join you?” She and Crash had emerged from the clubhouse and walked over to us. I didn’t see Dice; they must have taken him back to his new place after dinner. Happiness tinted Cherry’s cheeks pink, her eyes bright and beautiful.
Life took without mercy, but also gave us beauty without reservation.
“Of course you can join us.” I waved her over.
“Crash, you best watch your woman,” Steel said as he came back to sit next to Pretty Boy and me. “Petal’s all ours for the night. I don’t want hear no woman talk, you hear?”
“Agreed. You’re all mine for tonight,” Crash said, tipping her chin up.
Cherry scoffed and rolled her eyes as she sat on the ground, her leather pants stretching and showcasing her long, shapely legs. She was the only female I’d ever seen who wore pants like a man. It suited her.
“Whatever, master.” She smirked at Crash and tapped my leg in greeting. I giggled at their play. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, and I was thankful once more that Pretty Boy and Steel knew what was best for me, giving me exactly what I needed. I took another deep drink.
Before I knew it, the sun had fully faded, tall torches staked in the ground every few meters burned bright, and the fire was high and strong. Music and dancing gave the surroundings a mesmerizing effect. Or maybe it was the alcohol making everything seem so much more pleasant. The bottle at my feet was almost empty now.
“I need to relieve myself, Master,” I quietly told Steel, leaning into him. He smelled so good, hot and salty with a bite of pine. Speaking of, I did want to bite him. The thought made me giggle, and it sounded oddly high.
“Oh fuck me, Pretty Boy, Petal’s drunk.” His eyes were bright and quite without sobriety themselves.
I playfully patted his massive shoulder. “I’m fine, Master. I just need to…yeah.” My brain wouldn’t even form the words.
“Cherry, take her to the latrine, will you?” Pretty Boy asked.
I stood up and made my way over to Cherry, who was already on her feet, waiting for me.
As we made our way to the closest latrines, Diamond and another woman stopped us. The other woman was the one I’d seen my first night here, with the tattoos covering her legs. I thought her name was Emmy.
As the three of them chatted, I noticed that I had a better view of the musicians. Moving closer, I watched the flames from the fire paint their faces in fantastical masks. They played their fiddles like men possessed. I felt my hips begin to sway with a will of their own, caught up in the music.
From behind, two large hands grasped my hips, but whomever it was didn’t still me; indeed, I felt a man’s hips swaying with mine. I startled for an inst
ant, until I heard the faint sound of a familiar growl in my ear, hungry and lustful.
“Having a good time, are we, slave?”
Sheriff.
How did he manage to make the words sound so threatening, so full of possession? I should have been afraid, and I thought I felt my heart skip suddenly, but I couldn’t seem to make myself pull away. This man was dangerous; why wasn’t I bolting?
Lightheaded with drink, my head fell back against his muscled chest. Warm breath caressed my exposed neck. Cherry had braided my hair before the party, leaving my neck bare and giving perfect access to Sheriff’s hot mouth.
His fingers tightened their hold and pulled me hard against him until I felt his need rub against the small of my back. He bent his knees until that hardness brushed against my backside. Maker help me, but I began to grind my bottom into his front.
I heard him hiss before he sucked on my neck, his hands now spanning my waist, his hard cock pressing into me. A low ache started between my legs. I released a small moan, begging for more.
Sheriff bit me, hard, teeth scraping my bare shoulder. I cried out, sweat beginning to drip down between my breasts. My body was on fire. I tried to turn my head to see him.
“Don’t turn around.” He nuzzled the other side of my neck, biting the tender flesh. There was something so predatory, so menacing about him, yet that only seemed to excite me more. I writhed in need and placed my hands on his, but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them behind me, bowing my back, and rubbing his hard length against my bound hands.
“Fuck, I want you,” he said, barely a growl in my ear. “I haven’t even begun to show you what it means to have me as a master, yet, sweetheart, but I will.” His tongue darted into my ear. “I’ll come for you soon.”
My senses reeled. Before I could think of a coherent reply, he released me and walked away.
I turned around, searching, but only saw Cherry with Diamond and Emmy, still in deep conversation.
What had just happened?
Thoughts spinning, I made my way over to the closest latrine, again glancing around for the General. I saw no sign of him, yet my spine tingled with awareness of his eyes on me. Heat suffused every inch of me, nearly dizzying.
As soon as I was done in the latrine, I found Cherry, still talking with the other two women. Cherry looked at me, her russet, well-shaped brows knitting together.
“You okay, Violet? You look like you saw a ghost.”
A ghost. That was almost what Sheriff reminded me of. He’d vanished like a specter, and I could still feel him there, even when I couldn’t see him. Thinking of the way he’d come up on me, the way he’d rubbed himself against me...
My sex clenched.
“I’m fine, but let’s get back to the guys.”
We found the men waiting inside the club, lounging on thick, square cushions on the floor near the back. Or rather, we found Pretty Boy and Crash there. I looked up and saw Steel a little ways off, wrestling with Bear. Steel had him in a choke-hold, and they were both laughing. The sight made me smile.
As soon as Cherry was within reach, Crash grabbed her and pulled her down across his lap on the floor, possessing her mouth in a long, deep kiss.
“Come here, Princess,” Pretty Boy’s voice was husky from drink. He took my hand and pulled me down across his lap, not unlike Crash had done with Cherry. “Crash has the right idea.” He took my chin between his fingers and covered my mouth with his, hot and greedy. Spicy rum of some kind made the taste of him intoxicating.
When he broke the kiss, I flopped back against his chest, blood running hot all over again. I pushed Sheriff and his odd mixed signals out of my mind and watched Crash and Cherry make out, tearing at each other’s clothes, their breathing hoarse and ragged. Focused on the feel of Pretty Boy’s arms around me, his lips on my neck.
The torches flickering around the room threw fascinating shadows on the club walls, the air was a bit smoky, and music and conversation drifted from around us. Pretty Boy and I kissed, then he fed me drink, then kissed me some more.
When I’d first come to this party, I’d found the idea of such a celebration after what had happened that day almost horrifying. I’d wondered if these men I called my masters weren’t considerably more savage than I thought, if perhaps the stories about these pirates were true and I’d somehow been blind to it. But now I knew it wasn’t quite so black and white.
Many of the men around us were drunker or higher than I’d ever seen them, pain quickly erased with drink and illegal substances. Others sang and joked with a happiness I finally understood wasn’t because they didn’t respect life, but because they reveled in their own. The Dark Legion lived on, and so they celebrated.
“How is it you always make me want you, Princess?” Pretty Boy whispered, laying me across the cushion under him.
Unsure what to say, I cradled his face in my hands. Usually, Pretty Boy seemed so wild and unpredictable, but right then, being with him felt like the easiest thing in the world. So much more straightforward than Hawk or Sheriff.
At some point, Crash had rolled Cherry over onto the floor in front of us. He ripped open her top. I noticed she made a point of keeping her back hidden, tugging the shirt down when he rolled her over onto her stomach. The mess of scarred tissue peeked out from the bottom of her shirt.
What in Maker’s name had happened to her to cause those scars? Pretty Boy chose that moment to drop burning kisses along my neck, and the question slid away on half-drunken need.
On the floor, Cherry tried to turn onto her back. Crash covered her with his frame, hiding her scars with his hands, with his body. “Do you trust me, Cherry?”
“It’s not that. I just don’t want you to see what they…to see them.”
“No one will see them but me. You know your scars mean nothing to me. They change nothing. Be a good girl and let me fuck you.”
Oh, Maker’s mercy, now I saw why she liked him. Cherry moaned his name, sounding as needy as me.
“I’ll make you forget all about those damn scars.” He yanked her pants down to her thighs, she spread her legs and he thrust into her, hard. They both moaned and fucked slowly on the floor. Watching them had me clenching for Pretty Boy, needing him deep inside.
He looked over his shoulder at the two of them and then at me with a smirk. “You like watching them?” He angled his head and his hot tongue traced my lips. “Does that get you off?”
I bit my lip, praying he wouldn’t make me say it. My ears filled with the sounds of dirty sex, flesh smacking flesh, Cherry groaning into a kiss, Crash grunting in pleasure.
“I’ll have you talking dirty in no time, Princess.” His gaze dropped to my cadris top, fingers tracing the low neckline that cupped my breasts. “I’m so loving these new…whatever these things are. I’m gonna buy you lots more.” He gripped the back of my neck and pulled me close enough that our mouths almost touched, his eyes bright and lustful.
“Are you happy here, in the Grotto?” he asked.
For a moment, I froze. It was not a question I ever expected to hear, especially from him. He waited expectantly, though, so the sincerity was there.
With alcohol flowing through my veins, I didn’t hesitate to be honest.
“I am now, Master. It is different than I am used to, and there are certainly things that I don’t like.” Especially what I’d seen today, but I wasn’t about to let my mind take me back there.
“But…?” He really did look like he was waiting on bated breath for my answer. Was this normal with alcohol? Not only lowering inhibitions, but the walls we build up, too? The walls that prevented us from expressing, or even acknowledging, our true feelings?
“But,” I whispered, suddenly afraid for the first time since I’d arrived at the Grotto. “I am happy with my masters.” My eyes roamed his beautiful features and settled on his lips. In a bold movement, I took his mouth. I made the decision to take. I claimed my want this time, instead of being given to.
Pretty
Boy groaned in pleasure. It was the first time I had ever taken what I wanted, and the fact made my heart soar.
The kiss was sweet and sensual. So different than our usual kisses. He sat up and pulled me with him so that I sat in his lap, the kiss long and lingering. When he broke the kiss, I pulled away to see his expression. He looked younger, thoughtful.
He took my hand and held it up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. His eyes were warm. “I loved a girl, once. Years ago.”
I was so stunned at the random comment, I almost couldn’t speak. “When? How old were you?” My heart buoyed at this rare openness from him.
“I was fifteen or so.”
My head was starting to spin from the alcohol, so I laid my head on his shoulder, begging my body to be still—I didn’t want to miss a word he said. I hated that I barely knew anything about my masters but what they gave me.
“I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me.” He laughed, and his fingers played with mine. “I didn’t want to share, I wanted her all to myself. And like a dumbass, I thought she felt the same way.”
I licked my lips, trying to imagine what he was saying. A woman with only one man was rare but did happen. “So what happened?”
“I told her I loved her. She laughed in my face.”
The words cut me deep. He squeezed my fingers a little too hard, evidence of the bitterness he still carried. Probably not from the unrequited love, just the humiliation. Maybe that’s why Pretty Boy was who he was. The wild, cavalier air was a façade, an armor meant to show the world that nothing would break him.
“And then what happened?”
He lowered his chin to look at me, holding my gaze for a few moments before speaking. “I got over it. Grew up, grew smarter. She left the Grotto not long after that. Went off with her cousins to live in Zone 3 or something.”
“Oh Master. Just because love is rare doesn’t mean you shouldn’t want it or that it doesn’t happen. My parents loved each other very much.” I didn’t care if I was overstepping my place, I wanted him to know that loving someone—whether one person or five—was perfectly natural and right.
