by Mara McQueen
Yes, woe was Ava, who had to deal with a man that wanted to make her feel good. Honestly, she didn't know how she'd be able to go through life like—
Her soft moan echoed around them as his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking gently. That clever tongue of his swirled around it, lips nipping gently, until Ava began grinding on him, desperate for more contact.
"I think you like this," he said, licking up the valley of her breasts to her chin.
Ava rocked against him harder. He clenched his jaw.
"I think you like it, too." She didn't know where all this courage was coming from, but she liked it.
She could just be around Raiden, without feeling guilty. No more sacrifices, threats, and ultimatums. No more people getting hurt if she didn't act just right around him.
He was the goddamn Prince of the Brotherhood. He was untouchable. And Ava got to touch all of him.
Yes, she could definitely get used to this.
But before she could, Raiden twisted them around with that inhuman speed of his, until she was sitting down and he was towering over her.
He wasn't about to leave her breathless, with her hair an absolute mess, and her body wanting, was he?
"Trust me, you'll love this next part," he said.
Ava didn't have time to blink her surprise away when the Crown Prince of the Brotherhood, the man they called The Dragon, whose name struck fear in all the Underworld, kneeled before Ava.
Chapter Thirteen
AVA
Ava was dreaming. She must have been.
She was probably back in her shack, in the dead of night, tossing and turning in her rickety bed, dreaming of strangers with dark eyes. Being a teenager had been tough around those lonely parts.
Because there was no way in the world—or Underworld—she was looking down at Raiden, who was slowly lifting her dress. Up her shins, past her knees, up her thighs.
"Breathe," he laughed low in his throat.
"Yeah, that would be helpful, wouldn't it?"
"The strangest things come out of your mouth." He raised the fabric higher and higher.
"I know." Honestly, it was a miracle she could even talk right now at all. Her mouth had gone dry, and her tongue kept darting out to lick her lips. But Raiden seemed to like it, his gaze snapping to her mouth.
"I'm more interested in hearing a different kind of sound from you." He lowered his head, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin of her thighs.
As long as he didn't stop, Ava would say anything he wanted. She'd recite the Illiad by heart if that struck his fancy.
But she doubted that's what he had in mind judging from the devilish glint in his eyes.
His fingers ghosted up her legs, lips trailing after them.
Ava gripped the throne spires behind her. Some sheets would have been nice right about now—perfect for grabbing and fisting the anticipation away.
This was happening. In a throne room, of all things.
"I want you to look at this room and burn it into your memory." Kiss. Nip. Lick. "And when you'll have hundreds of eyes on you, remember this feeling."
She nodded too many times. Oh, she was going to replay this on a loop in her mind until the day she died.
The way he was looking up at her, trapping her on the spot. How he was done being gentle and slow, fingers looping on the straps of her underwear and yanking them off in one go.
Ava stilled. She wasn't shy, but this was new.
Raiden splayed his hand on her breast bone, throwing her right leg over his shoulder, spreading her.
He growled low in his throat and leaned down. As soon as his lips whispered against the heated flesh of her center, Ava shuddered.
Raiden pressed down on her chest harder, pinning her in place.
She couldn't help herself. She squirmed and thrashed and rocked her hips against his insatiable lips, incoherent mumbles on hers. He groaned out in approval each time she said his name, almost like a plea.
The moans that were spilling out of her tongue were ungodly, echoing on a loop. Hey, nobody had ever accused her of being quiet.
When Raiden dipped his tongue inside her, swirling, Ava lost what little remained of her mind. She arched against the gold and velvet, heel digging into his back. She wasn't letting this man go.
He leaned back with a satisfied smirk, making a show of licking his lips. He rubbed soothing little patterns on her thighs while he watched her come back down to earth.
"You were right," she breathed out. "I loved that."
Well worth the twenty-four year wait—though it would've been even nicer if it had happened way back. Lost, grey years, all of them. Those were lost years. She'd ended up in the Underworld, by Raiden's side, anyway.
He chuckled and rose, helping Ava to her feet and into his embrace.
"Wait." She looked back at the throne, then at him. "What are you…?"
He was obviously hard. Ava felt him right against her hip—and gulped, because fitting might be an issue.
"Reciprocity and all that," she said, voice breathy.
He laughed low in his throat, fingers coiling her long hair around his fist. He tugged her head back, exposing her neck.
"Patience," he whispered against the pulse point on her neck. "I promise it will be worth it."
Ava shivered, closing her eyes. This man was going to drag her into wicked shadows and back and she was going to love it.
"I'll hold you to that," she said, a bit disappointed. But, fine. She could wait for the next mind-blowing orgasm. They'd take their time. They'd learn each other, inch by inch, moan by moan. "Hey, where's my underwear?"
He patted his shirt pocket. "You're going to walk back home all exposed and nobody but the two of us are going to know."
Ava trembled. These kinds of secrets, she liked.
He captured her mouth again, more demanding and urgent. As if he couldn't get enough of her. As if he wanted to meld himself to her. Ava opened her lips to him, wanting more. She tasted herself on his tongue and it ignited her again.
But just as her body melted against his, he pulled back and grasped her chin, gaze boring into her.
"Remember this night," he said fiercely. "Promise me you'll remember it."
"Promise." Ava smiled and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. A goodnight peck, away from all the curious gazes awaiting them once they stepped back out into the real world. Well, the Brotherhood Capital version of it.
She could wait for everything else on her wedding night. Way too traditional for her, but Raiden wasn't raised between rocks and mist and endless forests. He'd been born in the Capital and its rules.
But once she got that crown on her head, the clothes were coming off.
They parted slowly, as if neither of them wanted the moment to end, her with a smile, him with a frown.
Why was he so worried? They had decades to make up for all the time they'd wasted. Ava couldn't wait to start the rest of her life with Raiden.
Chapter Fourteen
RAIDEN
Raiden refused to pace.
He'd always considered it a weak man's reaction and, as a Prince, he had to be strong and in control. Except now.
Gods, did he want to pace now. His body vibrated with tension. He was going to spend the next two days shattering his training room at this rate.
"You're telling me," he began slowly, anger barely leashed. "That none of us can be involved in new Clan missions for an entire year?"
The Treaty had officially been negotiated. Raiden had always had a grudging respect for the Committee, which oversaw all Clan disputes. The only truly objective organization in the Underworld. Its jury didn't care which Clan you came from, it screwed everyone over equally. Raiden liked that efficient mercilessness. But the Committee had gone overboard this time.
"They hit the Syndicate, too," Patrice growled. She looked more and more like an upset cat. "Officially, they probably said they wanted to make sure nobody involved in the marriage alliances would try
to screw over the others' Clan from the inside. My money’s on the Syndicate weaseling this clause in so we wouldn’t look too closely at their finances and operations."
Everyone agreed.
As if any of them would bother with the Syndicate now that it was officially limping to its grave.
Especially Raiden. He had enough problems already.
Now he had to deal with a fucking transition period, too. Twelve months from the wedding. No missions, no going out on the field and, in his case, no passing new laws.
This wasn't a coincidence. Not after what had happened at the wedding. Someone wanted to incapacitate the Brotherhood and Syndicate leaders. Once a Treaty was negotiated, you needed spectacular proof to even attempt to change one of its clauses.
If you didn't follow the Treaty, your Clan would be excommunicated from the Underworld. Hunted down. Destroyed.
The five marriage alliances were meant to prevent a Clan war. Not start one.
As long as Raiden had breath in his lungs and blood in his veins, nobody was touching his Clan. Yet someone obviously wanted to cause trouble in the Brotherhood.
That wasn't happening.
First, Raiden had to understand why. Then he could go after whoever had dared mess with him and his Clan.
"Raiden?" Patrice asked over the monitor, sounding suddenly concerned.
"You okay?" Mason asked.
He must've been a sight to behold if his Brothers and Sister could sense the fury rolling off him from thousands of miles away.
"I'm fine." But whoever was behind this wouldn't be. He clenched his jaw and nodded at the screen. "Find me everything you can about the Treaty. Tell nobody outside this room. Now let's go over the report."
The preliminary report from the Syndicate wedding massacre. The more details Logan recited from it, the more Raiden's anger blistered.
Useless. No names, no motive, not even a goddamn name for that heinous toxin.
His mind shut out the gory details and jumped to Ava.
The woman who was complicating his already complicated existence. He was responsible for countless lives. He had duties. He had no room for feelings.
But his thoughts kept swirling back to last night.
The way she'd looked at him, eyes wide and uncertain at first, then ravenous. How she fisted her small hands in his shirt. How she felt against him. How she'd tasted and writhed and moaned. His name passing her lips, echoing all around the throne room.
He needed to cut this shit out now before he got hard again.
He'd been a fool to think Ava wanted nothing more than to play at naive while she tore his Clan apart from the inside. Oh, she wanted to tear, all right. His clothes.
In two days, she'd probably want to tear his heart out—and Raiden would deserve it.
"So no news on who the snipers were or who was paying them," Raiden said, interrupting Logan's recital of the list of suspects.
He was running out of time and patience.
Logan cleared his throat. "Not yet."
"Find them," Raiden said coldly. "They killed dozens of people in ten minutes. Very few assassins can do that. Check lists, send out scouts, alert every spy we have. I want names. Fast. And where's that ballistics report, Mason?"
The monitor went silent. Raiden didn't lose his temper. He didn't raise his voice. Or he hadn't, until Ava. She wouldn't like him if she saw him right now.
"You could tell Ava what's going to happen," Axton said slowly. "Why it has to happen."
If it would have been that simple, Raiden would have told her last night.
"Have you finished checking her? Can you tell me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she doesn't have any allegiance to whoever killed our Brothers and Sisters? And her uncle?"
Patrice scowled as she opened her mouth, like she always did before starting to chew their heads off, but no words slipped off her sharp tongue. She pursed her lips. "No."
"Then I can't tell her, can I?"
Not even the Crown Prince could bend the protocol to his will—especially not for his own interests.
It wasn't fair. He had all this power, but was powerless right now.
He'd dedicated his life to the Brotherhood. Had bled and killed for it, and now he had to break Ava's heart to protect it.
"We'll continue this tomorrow." He pinched the bridge of his nose.
One by one, his most trusted allies promised to bring back information as soon as possible and logged off, until only Axton was left.
"Do you trust her?" he asked.
He did. Ava had obviously been overwhelmed last night as she'd looked around the throne room and finally understood what kind of future awaited her. Nobody was that good of an actor. Raiden had kept a close eye on her since she'd come to the Capital. No sign of a master plan or machinations.
She wasn't an evil spy. She didn't belong in the Underworld.
Raiden had been born and bred Clan, where everyone had a cruel motive waiting behind their smiles and compliments. After a lifetime of people confirming his suspicions, of course he'd doubted her motives.
Not anymore. Ava hadn't been tainted by her vicious Syndicate. She just really wanted to make the world right.
"I do," he said.
"Do you want to tell her?"
Of fucking course he did.
"We've just been cut off from any new missions for twelve months." Even if he did trust Ava, her Syndicate still reeked. And those cousins of hers were dangerous, even when under the Brotherhood's thumb. "You think I'm taking any chances?"
Axton nodded. "I wouldn't either."
Raiden's shoulders sagged. He didn't know who was behind all of this, but by the time he was done with them, nobody, not even their families, would be able to identify their remains.
"Are you coming to the wedding?" he asked.
"Already bought a gift. See you in three days." Axton grinned and logged off.
Raiden closed his eyes, tilting his head back. He'd never hated being a Crown Prince as much as he did right now.
"There's another way to solve this," Kimbra said softly from behind him.
She'd been listening to their entire conversation from the shadows.
Her parents, in their endless cruelty, had forbidden her from joining the Brotherhood Elite ranks, but Raiden had found a way for her to put that potential to good use.
Kimbra was unbiased down to her core—and kind. She could always cut down the Elite's ruthless plans to merely brutal.
"Don't," Raiden said. He already knew what she wanted to suggest. He wasn't having it. "I appreciate it, but that won't solve anything. If they sense I care whether Ava lives or dies, she'll be in danger."
He wasn't letting Ava get trapped in court machinations because Raiden cared for her. He'd made a promise to protect her, no matter the sacrifice.
"Thank you," Kimbra said. "This will all be over soon."
It would. But Raiden had a feeling it wasn't going to end well.
Hurried steps resounded from behind the door. Raiden tensed. Everyone knew not to bother him while he was talking with the Elite for anything other than emergencies.
Rossen burst through the double doors, eyes frantic.
"Your Highness, the future Crown Princess…" Rossen breathed out and Raiden's heart dropped. "There's been an accident."
Chapter Fifteen
AVA
Ava was nervous.
Dear, sweet Marcella had done her best to badger her into rehearsing for the upcoming ceremony all morning. Ava had gone through the motions, nodding and stopping and bowing at the right times, but her mind kept wandering.
Marcella had even deepened her voice to pretend to be Raiden, thinking that would snap Ava out of her daydreams. Yeah, that plan ended with Ava rolling on the floor, laughing. Her ab muscles still stung.
Marcella was about as threatening as a butterfly. Raiden was all control and shadows—and, in three days, he was going to become her husband.
Ava took a deep, centering bre
ath as she raced down the path to the stables. The walk here had done nothing to calm her down.
Everywhere she looked, people were decorating the Capital for the upcoming wedding. Gold streamers, red flowers, trimming the hedges, washing the streets. The city was busy. So much effort for one day and two people.
Was she doing the right thing?
She'd already signed the contract, it wasn't like she had many options, but she needed to have a talk with herself and decide if she was really happy about this wedding.
She liked Raiden. After last night, she was afraid she liked him a bit too much. But the man had flown in Azor for her, then gave her a mind-melting orgasm. A girl could get used to that real fast.
Ava wanted to keep her cousins safe
She wanted to become Queen and have a say in how things ran in the Underworld.
So why, then, was she all jittery?
The Capital had welcomed her with open arms—and a few raised brows, but that was unavoidable. Ava made an entrance, whether she liked it or not.
But something was whispering against her senses. It sounded like a warning, but for the life of her, Ava couldn't understand it.
The logical side of her brain told her it was normal. After the whole Darius fiasco, it was a small wonder she didn't recoil at the thought of marriage, period. Plus the whole leading-an-entire-Clan-after-she'd-spent-most-of-her-life-doing-what-her-parents-had-told-her thing.
But Ava had promised she'd be prepared to rule. Grandpa Baron had taught her well and Raiden seemed to have all the patience in the world.
Maybe she just had wedding jitters.
Whatever was going on, the wind in her hair and the sound of hooves underneath her could drive all the nerves away.
She opened the stable doors, only to find Azor munching up a storm. She had her snout in an already half-empty basket of carrots.
"I see you're getting used to the royal treatment." Ava laughed, running her hands through Azor's white mane. "Missed me?"
Azor neighed, but kept on chewing. She'd always had a thing for carrots and these ones looked plump and juicy.
