by R. Scarlett
“Come,” Seto whispered and jerked his head toward a wooden cavern wedged in-between a stone lodge, a skull of a large mammal—perhaps a whale, hanging over the top of the door. Seto opened the large door and Molly entered into the shadowed room. A few men sat along a wood bar, red-faced, bent over as they drowned in the whisky that Molly tasted heavy in the air.
“Ah, Seto, Seto,” a man behind the bar greeted. He was stocky with a dark full beard hiding the lower half of his face.
Molly followed Seto over to the man and watched as he leaned over the bar.“I am looking for your specialties, Rennad,” Seto said lowly, an intense glint in those dark eyes.
Rennad smiled wearily. “For pleasure or pain?”
Molly stiffened and glanced down the bar, but all the men were either too drunk or simply uninterested in their conversation.
Seto side-eyed Molly. “Pain.”
Rennad nodded briskly and hummed to himself. With a flick of his wrist, he began walking to the back room. Seto and Molly followed into a smaller room, darker than the last with cupboards of jars and tiny bottles filled with objects and substances she was sure she didn’t want to identify.
Rennad hummed to himself, terribly loud as the two of them stood back, watching the giant man rummage through his jars.
“We need a good sedative. Something that would put out even the most powerful of men for a few hours,” Seto added after a second.
Molly’s stomach dropped, but she knew it was necessary.
“A sedative, huh?” Rennad shoved a few jars from the front and dug into the back of the cupboard. “Ah!” He pulled out his large arm and turned to face them, in his thick hand he held a tiny bottle of clear liquid. “Lather this onto a knife and the bastard won’t stand a chance. If used on a strong man, it might put him out for a few hours, possibly a few days. On a weaker man, however,” he said with a dark glint to his eyes. “It would be lethal.”
Seto dug into his pocket and handed over seven nyxes, coins from the court, as the man handed him the bottle.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Rennad said and patted Seto’s shoulder. Seto stared back blankly at him and pocketed the bottle.
“Come,” Seto said to Molly and they left the bar, their heads lowered.
Once outside, Molly heard voices battling each other, bids of numbers tossed back and forth.
“Keep moving,” Seto whispered when she paused to find the source.
As they moved, she saw a crowd had gathered around a stage and on the stage was a small group of poorly dressed women, the shreds of clothing barely concealing their nudity.
Men gathered around the stage in the middle of the dirt street, battling to outbid the last announcement and Molly’s stomach twisted.
“That’s sick,” Molly hissed lowly to Seto.
Seto continued to walk ahead. “It’s life outside of the court,” he said, voice cold and dry.
Molly couldn’t tear her eyes from the girls, from the angry, aggressive men below, salivating like beasts at the sight of them. One man even reached out and slid his fingers along a girl’s bare calf.
Seto gripped Molly’s wrist before she could even turn. “Do not involve yourself. Remember who you are tied to.”
Molly gritted her teeth. “It’s wrong, Seto.”
A cry stopped Seto from responding and as Molly turned, her eyes found a new girl brought to the stage.
She stumbled, unsteady on her thin, bruised legs and wrapped her shaking arms around her chest as the men hooted and called to her.
“For the delicate flower,” the ringleader sang to the lively crowd.
Molly took a step closer, her heart seizing, her lungs tightening to the point she couldn’t breathe. “Seto…”
Seto moved beside her. He didn’t say a word, but when she looked up at him, she saw the sulking darkness in his eyes tremble and his jaw became rigid.
Another cry was all it took to spark the fuse in Seto and he shoved himself deep into the crowd.
“Seto!” Molly rushed after him, pushing through as she watched Seto march to the stage.
A few men swore at him or glared, but as soon as Seto climbed up onto the stage, the crowd roared.
“Get off the stage!” the owner of the girl shouted at him.
Seto walked with determination, his eyes set on the girl shying away into the group of women.
He kept advancing nonetheless, only stopping as he reached her. His hand came up from where it had been at his side, trembling slightly as he gently caressed the girl’s shoulder. He slid her ratty locks down her back, revealing her neck, and the burnt skin that seemed to run around its complete circumference.
Molly stood at the base of the stage now, her heart thudding deep in her chest.
The burns…
Someone had tried to remove her mark. The mark she had been given by Seto. A claiming mark. One a demon gave to his mate.
Molly touched her own mark, shivering at the mere thought of the pain such burns must have inflicted. If touch sent her to her knees, she couldn’t imagine…
“Prim,” Seto whispered, unbelieving. The shivering girl, Prim, only stared at his feet, her delicate features hollowed and stained with dirt. The owner shoved Seto back. “Get off my stage! If you want to have her, you bid!”
Seto turned sharply, his hardened features challenging the owner. “She’s not for sale.”
The owner paused, and then chuckled, wiping the sweat off his bald head with a cloth, and stuffing it back into his shirt. “And I am the fucking king of High Court,” he said, laughing hysterically. Some of the men around the stage joined in, the loud noise making the several girls shrink in fear. The owner’s cruel smile faded, his face growing serious once more. “She’s mine.”
That angered the beast inside of Seto and he growled, taking a step to guard Prim from anyone seeing her. “No, she is most definitely not,” Seto managed out in a voice of steel and fire forged together.
The owner’s eyes bulged and he stalked forward, his finger jabbing into Seto’s chest, heaving in anger. “The bitch is mine, beggar.”
Molly saw the flash of pure anger in Seto’s face and she knew he would kill the man.
She had to intervene. Right now. Before everything went from bad to worse.
“No,” Molly shouted and threw down her hood, the icy sensation stinging behind her eyes and she glared at the owner.
The owner staggered when he caught her eyes.
The crowd parted as if she was the devil herself—and maybe she was. A dangerous threat to their own king, even as he strolled through the palace miles away. She heard them whisper as she stood at the base of the stage. “You will let her go,” Molly said, not even recognizing her own voice.
The owner swallowed thickly, unable to move as her eyes held him in place.
“Is that the king’s wife?” someone whispered behind her. Molly didn’t look back to see who had spoken, she kept her gaze firmly placed on the owner’s. Controlling him.
“Yes,” the owner answered, his voice quivering. When she knew the owner would be no further threat to their intentions of bringing Prim with them, she broke their stare, her powers slithering back into her like a poisonous and ancient serpent.
Molly turned to Seto as he grabbed Prim, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms as he marched down the steps and past the crowd.
Molly pulled her hood back up, but every single person watched her, a weary look in their eyes.
They seemed unsure. Uncertain of what the king’s wife held within her bones and blood.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Seto mumbled, but his eyes were focused on his mate in his arms, his fingers continuing to soothingly stroke her bruised arms.
“I—I,” Molly paused and swallowed. “I think what I’m capable of is changing.”
Seto frowned. “Perhaps the trauma of Tensley’s death and rebirth triggered these changes.”
Molly fisted her hands. She hadn’t thought of that,
but it had begun right after Tensley’s heart had been ripped out. Her powers were triggered from the trauma.
Prim didn’t move, her eyes shut tightly, her breathing ragged and wild. From the pained look on her expression, she didn’t even want Seto to touch her. Molly’s heart broke for the girl who had once been so wild and happy.
“Where should we take her?” Molly asked after they left the port town and ventured back onto the short path to the palace.
Seto fixed his grip on Prim, making sure he was particularly gentle with her. She watched him look down at her, the darkness that glinted in his eyes gone and replaced with pure adoration and hope.
“To the cottage,” he answered after some time, pulling Prim even closer to his chest if such a thing was even possible.
Molly nodded and didn’t say another word. A few minutes later, once they passed through the woods, she saw the cottage the prince had shown her earlier in the day.
The cottage where they would take Tensley.
She brushed off her nerves and focused on Prim.
The cottage was a tiny stone house with a slanted dirt roof. Broken and abandoned, it had gone without repairs and now sat overgrown by the surrounding forest.
The thin wood door opened easily and Seto moved in past her, going into the separate room and placing Prim down on the cot. Water leaked from the ceiling, dripping a rhythm against the dirt floor.
Prim instantly curled into herself, creating a tiny protective ball. Molly stood at the edge of the room, watching as Prim flinched when Seto touched her arm.
Prim whimpered and shook her head, crawling into the corner on the bed, holding herself.
Seto bent down onto his knees and watched her. Molly swore she heard his heart shatter.
“Prim,” he whispered, but she only whimpered in return. “You’re safe. I’ll protect you.”
Again, another whimper of pain and agony. He sat there, bent on his knees for a long period time, watching, waiting for a single movement of hope. He brushed a hand along the side of her shoulder, not touching her, but simply being close enough to feel his warmth.
“I will not let anyone harm you again,” he murmured. “I vow to you and you alone.”
Seto stood and walked into the other room, Molly following behind.
He wiped a hand down his face and sighed, leaning against a table with vines growing up its legs.
“Fallen lied,” Molly said, still not sure she completely believed what they had just discovered. “She’s…she never died. Do you think he was the one to sell her off?”
Seto swallowed and shook his head in confusion. He too had a hard time believing any of it. His hands turned to fists at his sides.
“What do you think…happened to her?” Molly whispered, her words a knife twisting in her own chest.
Seto stared at the floor, a sadness, a sickness creeping inside of him. He shook his head. Neither of them could speak of the unthinkable acts done to Prim in the past week since Fallen had banished her.
“Tensley killed him, Seto,” Molly said, her hand gripping his own. “Fallen’s gone. He’s dead.”
Seto nodded and looked down at her. “I promise you—we’ll save him.”
Molly’s eyes grew hot and wet and she looked back at Prim hidden in the room beside them.
“Tonight,” Seto started, lifting his head high. “Tonight you tame the beast.”
THE LORDS THAT sat in front of the beast held their breaths. He could sense their uncertainty, their fear and also envy. They wanted the throne, they wanted his head on a spike and they wanted to drink to their victory.
He rolled his hand on the table into an iron fist.
He could feel the buzz of his weakness, the sting of his once powerful body faltering. His body was seeking pleasure to gain power, but every woman who sought him enraged the beast.
“The mourning period lasts for three months. It is tradition for the court to wait to crown the new king until the mourning period has ended,” Lilith spoke, sitting beside him. She continued to lean over and whispered what she thought of each word that was pronounced by the lords like she believed the beast valued her opinions.
He did not.
He simply ignored her and each time she tried to touch him—a brush of her thigh against his, her fingers skimming his forearm—he’d push her away, and growl lowly.
“Once you are crowned king,” Lilith began and he saw the fire in her eyes spark, excited by the idea of him king. “We will discuss a joint house.”
“A joint house, my lady?” a lord asked, his entire features hidden by an unruly beard.
“Yes.” She nodded curtly and her voice held no room for further discussion. “I will act as his queen.”
The beast hissed lowly. “No.”
The entire room went silent and Lilith turned to face him, her brows drawn into a frown.
“No,” the beast snapped, the word more vicious than he expected it to be but driven by his emotions.
“No?” Lilith inquired, laughing softly as if the beast was delusional. “I am the only lady fit to be a queen. I am a queen,” she added, putting emphasis on the last part. Then her eyes turned cold, calculating, the smile of a viper taking over her mouth. “What did you think, your majesty?” she asked, laughing again, the sound meant to be sensual but it only made the beast’s teeth snap with aggression. “You thought your little so-called wife was going to be queen? That she was going to reign beside you? Over a court and a world full of demons? I thought our king vicious, not naïve and driven by a slut.” Some lords joined in with Lilith’s laugh, and victory flashed in her eyes.
The beast gripped the wooden table before him, the wood cracking under his grip, the sound echoing around the room like a dark storm. He may be weakened by the lack of affection he had been receiving, but he wasn’t about to let this court think they could outsmart him. Conquer him. Belittle him.
He had conquered Fallen.
He was king.
And he would crush this court full of snakes to nothing if they thought they could control him.
The beast growled, the sound so vicious, the lords stopped laughing immediately. They knew an unpredictable and dangerous beast when they saw one, and if they wanted out of the room alive, they would have to tread carefully. Only Lilith was brave enough to keep her wicked smile.
“I am afraid no one explained to you our ways, my king. Truthfully, it all happened so quickly, the death of my husband, that we didn’t have quite the time. But you are after all a foreigner. So perhaps we should make some things clear here and now; No whore or prudish little girls in this court can dethrone me. I am queen. I was born a queen. And I will die a queen.”
A few lords nodded their heads in agreement, one of them, seeming younger than the others in the room, stood.
The lord was trying to appear brave and strong, but he fooled no one, the sweet taste of his fear sat heavy on all of their tongues.
The beast breathed in with the slowness of a predator about to pounce, his neck cracking in preparation.
He waited. Waited for what he knew was about to come.
A taste of satisfaction would come at last.
The relief and release he had been so desperately needing.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be enough to truly satisfy the beast’s needs, but it certainly would appease them for a little while. Or so he hoped.
The lord took a deep breath and opened his mouth ever so slowly to speak. “The queen has been nothing but faithful to the crown and a strong partner to our late king, Fallen. Perhaps, if the new king does not agree with those terms, the court should consider the possibility of taking away the right, and choosing Queen Lilith herself as the sole leader of this court,” he said, as his hands shook slightly. Lilith offered the young man an encouraging nod accompanied with a secretive smile. The kind of smile someone offered their lover, the person they shared intimate moments with.
But the beast was too far gone to analyze the specifics.
> All he could hear were the queen’s words followed by the lord’s.
His jaw ticked. He blinked twice. And just as the young lord was about to sit down, breathing in shakily as he thought he was safe from the beast’s wrath; all hell broke loose, and the beast was unleashed.
Tensley walked down the glistening white hallways. These men were weak. They went with the flow of power and if they sided with Lilith, he had no use for them.
He’d destroy them before they sought to dethrone him.
Power was like a drug, a need so potent it drove the beast crazy. He craved it just as much as he craved sex. It pleasured him, it ruined him and brought him ultimate strength.
Just as he turned the corner, he saw a group of ladies chatting to each other outside in the gardens.
“Where’s my daemon?” he asked them as he approached and the ladies froze, their features turning pale at the sight of crimson on his white shirt.
“My—my lord,” one girl whispered, her hands shaking. “I do not know.”
He eyed each of the girls and each one dropped their head in submission. He turned, ready to search for her around the castle when one girl spoke.
“I did see her. Yesterday morning with the prince, your majesty,” she said.
He paused, his anger coming in waves at the thought of her spending alone time with another man. Especially the prince.
“She went to his chambers…” she added hesitantly.
The beast clawed inside of him and before he could do any harm, he marched. She was with another man. As much as the beast wanted to believe she was faithful to him, it made him crazy with jealousy. Every woman he saw revolted him—he only wanted one, and she was spending time with the prince.
He growled at the anger, at the rage, because even without his fucking heart beating in his chest, she still controlled the beast.
THE WARM WATER engulfed Molly and she squeezed her eyes shut. Tonight, she would be damning him. Tonight, she would plague him with a curse that would either make him grow a heart or end terribly, terribly wrong.
