The Dark Kingdom Anthology

by Krissy V

  “I know. I, however, couldn’t sit back and allow her to get away with everything she’s done. This was my way of ensuring that she’ll never have the chance to hurt you again. I had dad go through the will, the terms and everything. He knew your father better than anyone and he hates what that bitch has put you through.” My eyes widen as I’m internally panicking; he told him? “I just told him she was abusive, not anything specific. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around him. “Are you really going to throw the girls out?”

  He kisses the top of my head. “Yeah, baby girl, they’re leaving. It’s up to you then what you want to do with this house.”

  I frown, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” he says placing a soft kiss against my lips. “We can move in here together and I’ll sell my house, or you could rent it.”

  “Could we…” I shake my head, no, that wouldn’t work.

  “Tell me.” He encourages.

  “Is there any way we could turn this into a shelter? For abused women?”

  He smiles and says, “Sounds like a good idea, I’ll look into it. We may need to build extensions on.” I watch as the wheels start turning, he’s already thinking of ways to expand the house so that we can make it a possibility.

  Epilogue

  It's been just over three months since he saved me and every day since then I count my blessings for that darn power outage, the day of Talia's meeting. The day I met John again, who knew that knights-in-shining-armor actually exist. In the past few months things have moved at full speed between us. I was a little worried in the beginning. I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do; go from being in that fucked up situation I was in with Talia to being in this full on relationship with John. But I couldn't resist him, he's the sweetest man in the world. He'll do anything for me and I love him for that. He's helping me become the best woman I can be.

  We're currently having my house renovated. He pulled some strings and got the project approved. Not only is my house being renovated the two houses on either side of it are too. They're joining as one. John somehow managed to get the owners to sell to him. I never asked how because the truth is, I don't want anything tainting this project. Once the house is renovated and expanded we'll end up having a huge compound for victims of abuse. As the project stands we'll have thirty rooms; twenty rooms will be bedrooms, each having their own private bathroom. There will be four separate living rooms, a huge kitchen, a dining room and four 'soft' rooms. These will be rooms that will hold counseling in them.

  Counseling is something that John wants me to do but I'm not ready, I'm not sure if I ever will be. Right now, I'm doing okay. I'm growing day by day, I'm at school and I'm liking it. John's put me on a fast track, instead of finishing at the end of the year, I'll be finishing in less than five months. I had enough credits before I left school and I'm working hard to get everything I need done so that I can finish then. I know I'm only given this fast track because of John and who he is or I should say the money he has.

  I have been spending some of the money I have, I've bought John a car. He was telling me about one that his father had, a 1969 Buick Skylark. His father sold it when his mom became pregnant with their fifth child. I had Lance help me locate it and I bought it. John doesn't know yet. It's his birthday present. He's thirty-four today and right now we’re in the middle of his party. We’re sitting around the table having dinner. His family have been really welcoming and I love them all, his mom more than the rest. I'm thinking that John may have told her about what I went through. Sharon's always checking in with me to make sure I'm okay. I love that and I think it's the sweetest thing for someone to do, especially when I haven't had that in a while.

  I tap my glass and everyone around the table quiets. All their focus turns to me, heat rises in my cheeks but I push through it. "I want to say Happy Birthday to John, without you I don't know where I'd be right now. You have shown me compassion, love, honesty, and sweetness. I'd be lost without you."

  A chorus of "Ahhhhh's" go around the room.

  "I love you," I whisper as I bend and kiss his lips. "I have a present for you."

  His eyes light up, "You do?"

  "Of course," I reply.

  "Oh, Reli, what did you get?" Sharon asks with a smile.

  "If you'll follow me outside, you'll find out." I quickly move away from the table knowing that John may be pissed that I spent so much on his present. I hear the murmurs and whispers of wonder, only Lance knows what I bought and he's outside waiting with the car.

  Opening the front door, I'm met by Lance. He's got a wide grin on his face. "It drives like a dream."

  "Holy shit," Cage cries walking out behind me. He's John's youngest brother and the closest in age to me. He was a bit weird at first with me but now we get on amazing. He's actually a close friend. "Reli-beli, you did awesome. Can I test drive it?"

  I laugh. I hated that name when they first started calling me it, but John told me the more I protested the more they'd call me it. It's stuck now, and I've gotten used to it. "John first."

  "Holy fuck."

  "Matthew Princeton. Language!" Sharon admonishes him. He's the next brother in line after John.

  "But mom, it's amazing," Talin tells her.

  "I see that Talin, but it doesn't mean you can use foul language."

  "Yeah, asshole," Cohen says, he and Talin are twins.

  "Christ," John growls taking in the car.

  "John Princeton, it may be your birthday, but that doesn't give you the right to take the Lord's name in vain."

  "Mom, it's fucking amazing," John says and each one of his brother's take a step backward.

  "He never learns," Lance comments and I laugh.

  Glancing over at Markus who has the biggest smile on his face. He told me when John informed his family about us that I’ve always been considered family and now it’s official. The entire family has welcomed me with open arms.

  "You are never too old for me to tan your hide," Sharon warns him. "How about thanking Reli?"

  John walks over to me and lifts me into the air. "Fucking love you, baby girl."

  I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on, "I love you too. Like it?"

  "Love it, I don't know how you got it or how much you spent but I'm not going to ask."

  I smile, "Good."

  "You're amazing."

  I roll my eyes, "I learned that from you."

  "Enough with the lovey dovey sh..." Cohen yells and Sharon coughs. "Crap, can we take a look at this beauty?"

  "I am," John says and my heart melts.

  "Go." I tell him, pressing a kiss against his lips.

  "I'll thank you properly later," he promises me, setting me down on my feet.

  The party is winding down, everyone is still here but they're all sitting on the couches. Everyone is having a good time but I've been anxious all day, I've tried to forget about it but I can't. My cell's timer beeps making me jump. My hands shake as I reach for the test.

  I smile as I look at it. John is going to be over the moon with the news. I know that he's been wanting this, he's told me he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. It's exactly the way I feel. He is my savior but he's also the man I love.

  Walking out of the bathroom, I see John sitting on the bed, he's waiting for me. "Did you take it?" he asks softly.

  I frown, "Take what?"

  He tilts his head and smirks, "The test, Reli. I saw it this morning. I've been waiting for you to take it all day."

  I smile, I should have known. There's no way I can keep anything from him, he's like a bloodhound; finds everything. "Yes, I did."

  "Baby girl, you're killing me here."

  "We're having a baby."

  His eyes widen and I watch as he sucks in a sharp breath. "We are?"

  I nod, "Yes we are."

  "Fuck yes! I love you, baby girl, you've made this the best birthday ever," he tells me, standing up
from the bed.

  I smile, "Good, although it means I have to up my game in the future."

  He pulls me into his arms, "Not really, just be knocked up every birthday."

  I shake my head, I should have known. "How many kids are we having?"

  He smirks, "A football team."

  I raise my eyebrow at him, "How about we have this one and go from there?"

  "Sounds good. Now I need to kick everyone out."

  I gape at him, "What, why?"

  "I need to fuck my fiancé and I'm not doing that with those assholes in the house."

  Wait...What? "When did I become your fiancé?"

  "Since now." He walks out of the bedroom. I don't object because I love him. I hear voices talking but I can't make out what's being said.

  "Bye, Reli-beli. See you tomorrow," Matthew yells and the rest of them shout to say their goodbyes.

  I go to the door, wanting to say goodbye to them but I'm stopped by John.

  "They're gone." His mouth crashes down on mine, "Now, I've a lot of thanking to do."

  My hands go to the zip on my dress... I can't wait.

  ------

  John almost got his wish. We had eight children. Three girls and five boys.

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  Something else to read by Brooke….

  Forbidden Lust

  Prologue

  Dean

  Then

  Thief.

  Gutter Garbage.

  Street Rat.

  These are just a handful of many names used to address me, none of which being my actual God-given one. The son of two low-class merchants who’d made it their life’s mission to sling whatever they could get their hands on just to put a meal on the table, and not even a hot or fresh meal most days. Nope. More often than not, we were lucky to have stale bread.

  Live one day at a time. That was our family motto. A way of life. It’s all I’ve ever known. It’s all they had ever known. Born into poverty just as I was, my parents didn’t have much choice. Every day was an endless struggle just to survive, all due to the station we were born into.

  And the vicious cycle is doomed to repeat over and over again, an inheritance of the worst variety passed on from parent to child—which is why I’ll never bring one of my own into this wicked world. Besides, I have my own charge to look after now that my parents are both dead, blessing and curse that it may be.

  It’s a curse because one person is hard enough to look out for.

  It’s a blessing because it gives my life purpose.

  If I didn’t have to worry about someone else, there would be no balance between walking that thin line separating right and wrong. If it were just me—I’d be a monster, teetering into a dark and morbid place. I’d be a person with nothing to lose, and therefore, no moral compass in any sort of capacity.

  As it is, I wake up every day with an acute worry deep in the pit of my stomach that I might fail her, an ache in my lungs that I might let her down. Each morning that I open my eyes, I’m hit with impervious self-doubt and a barrage of questions it’s impossible to know the answer to…

  Will I be able to feed us today?

  Will I come through and provide her with what she needs?

  How much longer can I shield her innocence from our reality? Of the responsibilities left in the wake of our parents’ deaths?

  And most importantly…

  Can I protect her?

  “Out of the way, Gutter Garbage.”

  Irritation simmers through my body as I glare in the direction of the man’s voice, unsurprised to find one of the palace guards a few yards ahead. He is the one who made the remark.

  That same annoyance is amplified when I find he’s not looking in my direction at all. No, this time the vile nickname isn’t aimed at me. This time, it’s wielded as a barb at her.

  My younger sister, Ziah, is altogether unaware of his presence. Still completely trapped in her childlike world, she’s stopped in the middle of the busy market space, continuing to eye the pretty trinkets set up on a nearby table. He’s lucky that she can’t hear him, or I’d make him suffer in ways the small-minded jerk could never dream up.

  Before I’m able to catch up to them, the burly man knocks her out of his way and Ziah hits the ground. The jeweled dagger hanging at the guard’s side clatters alongside her from the force of the impact.

  Shoving people out of the way, I watch anxiously as she spots the item before her, her eyes widening in fear as she realizes her dire mistake. Ornate items of that caliber can only come from one place, and there is only a handful of that particular weapon in existence. Made of pure gold and embedded with jewels, it was issued by our Sultan himself as a gift to his most trusted protectors. It’s a show of favoritism on his part, signifying what’s meant to be a sign of great honor in the city of Araigha.

  Ironic, considering those who were meant to protect, only care about the safety of the Sultan and his daughter—who no one has seen in years—and they have no honor at all.

  Ziah is quick to scoop up the dagger, averting her eyes to the ground so as not to appear disrespectful as she presents it in the air for him to retrieve. He doesn’t take it right away, instead glaring at the top of her head until she finally glances up.

  “What is your name?” he grunts in question.

  When Ziah doesn’t immediately respond, he leans closer, his stance instantly more threatening as he towers over her submissive form still kneeling on the ground.

  “She can’t hear you, asshole,” I call out, but my voice is lost in the overwhelming background noise of everyone else around us.

  Finally, she catches on, shielding her eyes from the overhead sun just in time to catch his lips repeating the question. He cocks his head at her response, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

  “You’d do well to pay attention and stay out of the way of those who are more important than you.” His harsh words are just short of a shout, garnering the attention of multiple people nearby in what I’m sure is a strategic play to further humiliate my sister. With that, he jerks the ornate weapon from her open palm and stalks away. Noticing the blood now dripping from her palm, I continue to shove faceless bodies out of my direct path, furious at the way her lip quivers as she studies the wound in shock.

  Motherfucker cut her—and on purpose, no doubt.

  A small group of merchants selling livestock cut me off when I’m a few steps short of Ziah, and I fight the urge to punch the poor, oblivious idiot closest to me.

  What feels like eons later, the group finally makes it past, clearing the way for me.

  “Ziah,” I call out, my steps faltering as I notice a girl not much older than my sister kneeling in front of her. A plain, beige garment shields most of the girl from view, safeguarding her from the overwhelming heat of the mid-day sun, but I can still make out the soft planes of her face.

  Removing a silk sash tied in her hair, she carefully presses the material to my sister’s wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The silk garment is my first clue this girl comes from a family leagues above us. Her family must still be in the merchant business, or else she wouldn’t be in the market, but just based on appearances it’s clear they must peddle goods of the more luxurious variety.

  I’m stumped. Everyone else is walking by my sister as if she’s invisible, but this girl, who has no business mingling with the two low-life orphans of the street, has taken it upon herself to stop and offer my sister a kindness no one else would show.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” the girl says softly, offering Ziah a gentle smile.

  “It’s not your fault.” Ziah shrugs as she says the words, and I’m shocked. Losing her hearing at a young age has made her self-conscious about speaking, especially to strangers. Clearly she’s as awestruck by the stranger’s beauty as I am.

  I drop to my knee beside them, addressing my sister immediately, the words rushing out.

  “Are you okay? How bad is it? Let me see.” I
reach for her hand, jerking it from the stranger’s grip and uncovering it.

  Ziah’s eyes narrow. “Not that bad,” she snaps.

  I purse my lips. Unwilling to seem weak in front of the pretty girl, she’s choosing to lie instead. The wound won’t close on its own, I’ll have to snag a needle and some thread from the lady selling fabrics—and guess what? I don’t have the money to pay for them.

  My eyes search hers for any indication of how much pain she might be in, while also beseeching her to knock off the whole ‘I’m tough’ charade. She stares straight back, her face as set in stone as my own. The glare standoff continues until the girl beside us clears her throat, thrusting her hand between our faces, directing it at me.

  “I’m Yazzy.”

  I stare at the feminine hand suspended in the air before cutting my eyes to hers. For a moment, it’s like someone punched me in the gut as I finally get a real look at her.

  Her dark, almond eyes are framed by the thickest lashes I’ve ever seen. They flutter, narrowing in slight suspicion as she studies me, her bowed pink lips curling slightly on the side. The suspended hand inches closer.

  I must look like a creep.

  Snapping out of it, I swiftly enclose her palm in mine, instantly marveling at how soft her skin is.

  “Dean,” I respond, before motioning to my sister. “And this is Ziah.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the girl—Yazzy—grins.

  “Thank you for helping my sister,” I’m quick to throw in, still gripping Yazzy’s hand despite having far exceeded the appropriate time allotment for a proper handshake, because for some inexplicable reason, I’m reluctant to let her go.

  Chapter One

  Yasmine

  Present

  “But Father, I’m tired of being paraded around like a prized pony that’s being sold off to the highest bidder.”