To Crown A Beast (Blackest Gold Book 4)

by R. Scarlett

  The pen Evelyn had been holding broke in half and the ink flooded her papers. Other than that, she showed no reaction. She simply dropped the pen and sat back in her seat.

  “You’re intruding in a private meeting,” Evelyn said, lowly, on the edge of a hiss. “One where only members are allowed.”

  “As the Dux’s wife, and now also the wife of a king, I am definitely the best fit to manage Scorpios until his return. And so Ms. Rose?” she said, a brow rising up to her hairline as she looked straight at the other woman with a feral smile. “You can expect me to be at a lot of these lovely private meetings.”

  Silence.

  Then one member cleared his throat. “So it’s true then, our Dux is now the king?”

  Molly nodded, chin raised high. “Yes, he is. In fact, I saw him snap Fallen’s neck with my very own eyes.”

  Murmurs filled the room and Evelyn’s hard stare burnt Molly’s flesh.

  Evelyn slammed her fist on the desk, the cups of coffee jolting. “I will not have a non-demon interfering with our cause.”

  “Interfering?” Molly’s voice rang loud in the room and she took a dangerous step closer. “I am the wife of your Dux. I am the wife of your king. I have every right to be here.”

  “Every right?” Evelyn tsked. “You’re an outsider. May I remind you that you once tried to trade our Dux to hunters.”

  The members stiffened at her words.

  Molly clenched her teeth, remembering a time where she had been so foolish, terrified of this new world Tensley lived in, and had preferred to trust hunters and harm Tensley.

  She would hate herself for it until the day she died.

  “I will be filling in as Dux until he returns,” Molly repeated, sharply, leaving no room for argument.

  Evelyn stood from her seat and Molly felt the whip of aggressive pheromones hit her hard.

  Molly’s eyes flashed, the icy sensation rushing forward, wrapping around her spine and fingertips, as they glowed.

  Brilliantly.

  Violently.

  She was a snake and her venom was lethal.

  The dark light within Evelyn’s eyes flickered as the woman realized Molly’s hold on her, on her strength and body.

  Perhaps, Molly realized, she could even control a demon’s will. If she tried. If she wished.

  Evelyn’s head turned ever so slowly to the side, her movements slowed down due to Molly’s power over her.

  She was strong if she could still move when under a daemon’s hold, Molly had to give her that.

  When Evelyn’s gaze left Molly’s, a growl escaped the other woman. She was giving up this fight.

  Molly freed her, but not without a warning of her own. “Do not threaten me or my own, or I will do far worse than simply control your body,” she hissed.

  Evelyn lifted her chin and yanked at her pin straight skirt. “You are an outsider. Do you expect us to accept a daemon to lead us?”

  Molly took a single step forward and she felt the tumble in her stomach. Of her son. Of her son’s powers. Protecting her. “Let’s see.” She turned to the table of men who gawked at each of the women. “Would you prefer your Dux, your king’s wife?” Molly caught every single eye, challenging any one to speak, to reject her. “Or would you prefer her?”

  The men turned their attention to Evelyn’s sour expression. She was on the edge of bursting a blood vessel.

  Silence.

  Evelyn tapped her ruby red high heels against the hardwood and sighed harshly. “Well?” She waved a hand to the men. “Speak up.”

  The men exchanged glances, hard and long, and then one rose to their feet.

  “Mrs. Knight,” he said, a man with a wrinkled forehead and heavy brows.

  Another stood. “Mrs. Knight.” The young man bowed his head in respect.

  One after the other, they stood, repeating her name like a chant to a god, and her chest warmed, heavy and hot.

  If she couldn’t save Tensley at High Court, she’d save him at Scorpios.

  Evelyn’s face grew bright red and her bottom lip shook. Not in sadness, but in pure rage.

  Once all the men had stood, all repeating Mrs. Knight, Evelyn slammed her palm down on the desk.

  “No, no! I am Dux. It’s my position. It’s my right!” She heaved violently, unable to catch her breath.

  “Ms. Rose,” one man snapped at her. “It has been decided.”

  Evelyn snarled, like a wild animal and turned her deadly, darkened eyes at Molly.

  “Fine,” she spat and sat back in her chair, shuffling papers. “You think you can handle Scorpios? Be my fucking guest.” She smiled viciously back at Molly.

  And Molly didn’t give her a reaction. Not even a cruel smile back.

  One of the men pulled out a chair at the other end of the table and Molly nodded her thanks, sitting down.

  She folded her hands and looked down the row of chairs at each man. “First, tell me what we plan to do with Ares.”

  Evelyn spent the meeting in silence as the men caught Molly up to speed on the events and plans to deal with Ares.

  Nothing had been decided. A crew of men had been sent in to spy on Ares in Boston, but no counterattack.

  They had been waiting for Tensley to return.

  Molly rubbed at her temples, her back aching from sitting so long. Evelyn smirked at her, enjoying her torture.

  “Give us time,” Molly said. “They’ll be expecting us to counterattack. We need to wait until they least expect it, when they’re the most unguarded.” She fisted her hands on her thighs. “Perhaps, I’ll pay them a visit.”

  “A visit, my queen?”

  Molly’s head snapped up at the term. “Please call me Mrs. Knight or Molly.”

  The older man nodded vigorously, as if frightened at the idea of displeasing her.

  “I’ve met the men that run Ares. If I can talk to them, find a common ground.”

  “Oh, because that’ll work,” Evelyn scoffed. “The whole reason Ares attacked was because they wanted you.”

  Molly’s shoulders stiffened.

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Knight. These men deserve to be slaughtered. They attacked our men and they poisoned Mr. Knight,” a man, Richmond, spoke.

  Molly stared at the papers in front of her. “We’ll bargain with them. For their lives, they will surrender their land and power. And if not, we will slaughter them.” Her voice was loud and strong and everything that Ares should fear.

  The men were silent, watching their temporary Dux with curiosity and interest.

  Her eyes darted to Evelyn and for once, she didn’t have a witty retort, but she still wore that ugly scowl.

  Molly would protect what was Tensley’s and bring Ares to their knees.

  She vowed she would.

  MOLLY SAT PERFECTLY still in her parents’ living room. It felt like ages since she had been home and now both of her parents sat across from her. It felt foreign. Months before Tensley had walked into their lives and now he was her husband. Now a heartless king.

  “School’s going well?” her father, Derek, asked. His trimmed brows always made her laugh as a child, and seeing him made her heart warm. All she wanted to do was rush into his warm hug and let him take away the pain.

  “It’s good. I’ll be finishing early though. By the end of December,” she told them.

  Her mother sipped at her tea and hummed in response. “December? Why so early?”

  Molly took a deep breath. This was the hard part. Telling her parents everything. From her pregnancy to her recent wedding and the fact Tensley wasn’t in the picture at the moment.

  “Well,” she whispered and lifted her China white teacup. “Tensley and I got married.”

  Her mother spluttered out her tea and covered her mouth. “Married?”

  Her father frowned. “Did he force you?”

  Molly shook her head. “No, no. I love him, Dad.”

  Derek’s mouth twisted and he rubbed at his jaw. “You — you love him,”
he said, as if the mere thought of loving a demon sounded ridiculous, impossible. “My daughter is in love with a demon. Dear lord,” he breathed, his hand going to his heart, rubbing vigorously has if to ease some pain. He turned toward his wife, their eyes meeting briefly. “Our daugh— she’s... and she wasn’t forced. She wanted it.” He sat back, stunned, hand still clutching his chest. “Are you happy with him?”

  “I…was,” she began, lowering her lashes. “A lot happened recently, he has to stay in this place called High Court, it’s where all the high born demons live. He’s— he’s the king now.”

  Her mother dropped her teacup and it shattered. Neither of them moved to clean it up. “A king?”

  Molly nodded. “Yes,” she paused, debating whether or not to tell them he was heartless. She decided otherwise at their pale expressions. The biggest announcement was yet to be revealed. She took a deep breath and went for it. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, quickly taking a sip of her tea.

  “Pregnant?” her mother muttered. Her hands went to her face and she stared at Molly, her eyes shifting between her stomach and Molly’s eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

  Molly opened her mouth to calm her down, but her mother began bawling instead. Molly clasped her mouth shut, unsure of how she was meant to react, what she was supposed to say.

  “Pregnant,” her mother continued to say, shaking her head.

  Derek cleared his throat and reached out to touch Molly’s hand, his trembling slightly. “Are you— are you truly happy?”

  Molly blinked back tears. “I’m very happy with him and the baby. I love him, Dad.”

  Her mother sobbed and sniffled, her mascara sliding down onto her pristine Chanel suit. “A baby, Derek. We’re going to be grandparents. I’m going to have grandchildren. She’s pre—”

  Molly cocked a brow. “You’re—happy?”

  Her mother nodded her head fast and yanked out a tissue from a box on a table nearby, patting under her eyes. “Of course I am. You know I’ve always wanted to have grandchildren. I didn’t expect them so soon, I won’t lie. But I’m happy nonetheless. We can go shopping now and get everything you’ll need. And a baby shower! I can host one here!”

  Molly smiled, warmth gathering behind her eyes. It was the last reaction she expected from her family, but the best. Of course it thrilled her mother to organize everything possible for the baby and she’d gladly let her do it.

  Molly spent dinner there and everything felt the same but different. She wasn’t their little girl anymore. She had grown, she had changed, and now she was a warrior, a wife, and soon she’d be a mother.

  On the walk home it rained and she didn’t bother fixing her hood. She let the rain wash over her, hoping to cleanse her blistered heart.

  When she arrived at the new apartment, she stood in the middle of the living room. Alone in such a big home, she craved him. It was the tiny moments, it was the moments she came home and let the sadness, the pain sink in.

  Tonight, she allowed it to win.

  A VIOLENT THROB ruptured inside of Tensley’s chest and he jolted. The pain, a bright pulse, too intense, too much all at once that he groaned in pure pain.

  His fingers dug deep into the white silk sheets and he pulled himself to sit up.

  Bad fucking decision.

  He felt empty, he felt a rage binding, winding inside of him like a noose.

  Tighter tighter tighter—

  Until he couldn’t breathe and choked.

  Someone touched his shoulder and he struck, swinging his shaking arm into the wall of muscle.

  More hands wrapped around his arms and legs and held him down, the beast livid, the beast crazed.

  Something was missing.

  Something was wrong.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  Confusion was a heavy fog over him and the more he struggled, the more he saw the flash of blood and bodies and the sound of cracking bones.

  Voices assaulted his aching eardrums and he twisted his head away.

  To once again, hide in his darkness.

  It was warm, it was silent and safe.

  A lightness burnt his eyes and with tiny flutters of his eyes, he saw the bedchamber.

  The sheets were torn, the furniture flipped and broken into pieces of wood, a nearby painting of Fallen was ripped open with claw marks.

  Another nightmare.

  Another vision of something he couldn’t grasp, something buried deep inside of him he wished didn’t exist, wasn’t embedded in his bones and skin tissue.

  His body sagged back into the bed.

  Night after night, he raged in his sleep.

  Night after night, he became worse. When he avoided sleep, the pains in his chest came and went more frequently. Like the embedded part of him knew he was avoiding sleep.

  Cold sweats, screaming until his throat burned raw, and thrashing until he woke himself up.

  He was riddled with memories of who he was before, but the pieces inside of him didn’t connect.

  A month since he last saw her. A month of waking and sleeping in constant pain inside of his chest.

  He was a night sky without a full moon, and he was warm in the darkness.

  He sat up in the bed, the pounding soft, but nonetheless violent in his chest. Focus on the rage, the anger, not the emptiness. He bowed his head, his fingers gathering the silk sheets in an angry fist.

  Deep breaths clawed through him, trying to ease the pain. During the day, he shrugged it off or rubbed his chest to soothe the ache, but today was worse.

  Each day it grew harder to cope.

  Harder to ignore the growing heavy weight gathering in his chest like a bundle of grenades.

  One he wished to rip open.

  He remembered what the daemon had done. Sewn a little pebble enchanted by a warlock to create a heart in his chest. All the warlocks assured him it was a sliver, not enough to harm him or worry the court.

  But he didn’t tell anyone about the pain or the growing sensation.

  Like a phantom heart.

  He would never be weakened again, weakened by a human nonetheless or sink as low as wanting her heart.

  He growled as his chest burned at the mere thought of her. At the mere thought of her precious, vicious heart.

  He wanted it.

  He wanted to devour it and destroy it slowly, so slowly she begged him to give it back.

  Again the brutal pain of a thousand daggers seized him and he roared, bowing his head and gripping the sheets.

  She fucking cursed me.

  He wanted her in front of him. Weeks had gone by and he refused any woman who tried to touch him. Even when Lilith touched him, a spark of fury and sting accompanied her touch. As if his body rejected anyone but his precious wife.

  A knock at his door roused him from his thoughts, but the pain still vibrated.

  He breathed through his nose, glaring up at the double doors. A shield from the court that fawned over him, waited on him night and day, and kissed his feet and hands like he was a god.

  He never bought their loyalty and he heard talk of some members disgust of their middle class born king, but all were too afraid of Tensley to ever confront him.

  If they could easily show him loyalty and words, how easily they could do the same to the next king if he died.

  Molly had been his only advantage over the court. Her touch was power, and now she was gone, and weeks of her absence wore him down.

  The last thing he wanted was to give up the throne. The power made him wild. He loved the feeling of control he wielded in the court and it all led back to his wife.

  The one who tried to corrupt him once again.

  “Come in,” he said, gathering a pair of trousers and pulling them on.

  Lilith entered, her red hair half-up, ringlets spiraling down her neck. She curtsied, a secret grin on her face and moved forward.

  “My king, you overslept,” she said, her eyes immediately going to his exposed chest and down to where he
fastened his trousers.

  He didn’t say a word and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on over his head.

  “I need you to send me someone,” he told her gruffly, tucking his shirt into his trousers.

  “Anything for you, my lord.” She smiled like she held a secret, like he hung the moon for her.

  “Find me my wife,” he told her and watched her smile drop.

  She swallowed thickly and shook her head. “My lord, as I said before, we do not know where she is.”

  His temper flared. So easily, he felt the demon side of him, the now more dominant side of him taking control. He fisted his hands and took a dangerous step closer to her, giving her a pointed look. “Find me my wife or I will shatter this palace.”

  Lilith straightened, her eyes crinkling, a flash of anger, but she swallowed and smoothed her dress down. She pressed her lips into a thin line and glanced up at him. “My lord, I did not wish to tell you, but now you must know,” she said, a bite to her words.

  Tensley fisted one hand beside him, watching the late queen carefully. He saw a droplet of sweat roll down her tensed temple and the way her chest rose fast.

  The beast was attuned to other’s emotions, to their nerves, and their desires.

  She feared him—and she desired him.

  Fear and lust were alike within her.

  “Speak now,” he said, lowly.

  Lilith took a deep breath and stepped forward. “She chose to leave, Your Majesty.”

  Tensley’s jaw locked and he heard the grit of his sharp teeth scratch.

  “She did not wish to stay with you. She did not honor you,” she added, shaking her head as if judging his powerful wife.

  The thorns dug deeper into his warring chest and he fisted his other hand, an attempt to avoid soothing the growing ache.

  He twisted away, searching, roaring inside.

  She left me…she left…

  The ache intensified and instead of a cry of pain, he growled and turned to Lilith.

  Lilith jolted as he rushed toward her. “Find her. And bring her to me.”

  Lilith blinked rapidly. “My lord, she’s a criminal. She must not be near you.”

  “Bring her to me,” he bellowed, gripping the bedpost, the wood snapping in half. Splinters and chunks of wood fell to the floor. He met her blank expression and he took timed steps forward. “Bring me my wife or I will slaughter one of your guards every hour until you do so.”