To Crown A Beast (Blackest Gold Book 4)

by R. Scarlett

  It hit her too hard, too fast.

  She hadn’t realized how much she missed his touch.

  And then he let go and kept his head bowed as he caught his breath.

  She brought her hand to her chest and held it there, too shocked, too upset to move or speak.

  Tensley wiped a thumb across his top lip and straightened. “You will come to me every fourth night. You stay as long as I wish.”

  She simply stared at his hand, the hand that had held hers as he unclenched and clenched it continuously. Did he feel it too? The chemistry, the bond, the strength flowing between the two of them?

  “You’re dismissed. The prince will escort you back,” he told her coldly and turned his back on her.

  She let her hand drop and couldn’t hide the anger storming inside of her. So many things she wished to spit back at him.

  That his father was dead.

  That Evelyn was attempting to run his Scorpios.

  But she held her tongue.

  “Don’t you want to ask about your son?” she said, not hiding the anger in her tone.

  He didn’t turn to face her. “I trust you. That pure heart of yours would never let your own son be neglected.”

  Her mouth dropped open. In a strange sense, it was a compliment, but it still bothered her he didn’t even ask.

  “He’s doing well,” she told him, happy he wasn’t facing her or he would see the wetness in her eyes. “They say he’s strong.”

  Tensley didn’t respond and she was done. She wasn’t wasting another moment.

  She wanted to go back to their perfect apartment and forget all of this.

  “Keep my son safe,” he murmured as she turned.

  She didn’t say a word and left.

  Fourth night of every week.

  She shook her head.

  She wouldn’t see it as a sentence, she would see it as an opportunity to honor her vow.

  And make his heart grow.

  “WE FOUND HIM,” one of the soldiers told Molly as she glanced up from her pile of papers.

  Daphne sat beside her, another pile of papers in her hands.

  The soldier—a young man—didn’t need to say another word. For a month since she’d directed Scorpios to attack Ares in a warehouse, many of the members were hiding outside of Boston and the members fled like rats, she had been waiting to hear that they had finally found who she was looking for.

  She wasn’t looking for Fitz Senior, the Dux of Ares, not yet at least.

  No, she wanted the most valuable thing to him and that was his son. Fitz Junior.

  “Is he in the cellar?” Molly asked and stood.

  The soldier nodded.

  “Would you like me to come, Molly?” Daphne asked, a deep frown between her manicured brows.

  Molly shook her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  Molly left the room and as she walked down the hallway, the soldiers that lined the walls bowed their heads in greeting. They saw her not only as the Dux’s wife, but as their queen, even though she had no official title.

  It had been three weeks since her first visit with Tensley and every fourth night of the week, the prince returned to escort Molly to High Court. It was always the same—a staring contest and a few words, him simply holding her hand, then she was dismissed. Tonight, the prince would return again to escort her back. She wasn’t sure how to feel, but she was going to be prepared to fight for Tensley.

  A soldier opened the cellar door for her and she entered into the darkness, descending down the creaky stairs.

  In the middle of the pitch-black room was a single chair and in that chair sat Fitz Junior.

  As she edged closer, the sound of her heels resonating around her as each step hit against the tiled floor, he lifted his head, a feat in itself.

  In the dim lights and shadows, she could make out his nasty bruised and bloody lip, redness coating the front of Fitz Junior’s shirt.

  His hands were tied behind his back with black cords.

  She wasn’t staring at the same man she had seen the past summer.

  She was staring at a beaten, fuming man who had escaped death only to be caught by the devil’s own hand. A man not entirely innocent. A man on another side of the chessboard that wanted her for himself or for her blood to flow freely between his fingers.

  She wouldn’t be merciful to him.

  “Fitz,” Molly said, folding her hands in front of her.

  He laughed darkly. “Long time no see, Molly Darling. Or should I call you Queen? I’d bow and kiss your holy feet if I wasn’t tied up,” he spat, barely containing his own disgust.

  She tasted the hostility in the air. It was thick and heavy and she knew he was going to lash out. She needed to calm him so she could get answers.

  Ares had been the rival of Scorpios for decades and after Tensley refused to give Molly up for more power and land to Ares, they had attacked.

  “You declared war on us,” she said and took a few steps closer.

  Fitz flashed his teeth—painted red, a complete opposite to the preppy-boy look he had been sporting months ago. “Oh, so you’re a Scorpion whore now, huh? Figured he’d manage to make you kneel for him at some point.” He sneered with a venomous smile.

  “There are two ways to do this, Fitz. You continue to spurt out all that garbage about me and Tensley and I make sure to take a very long time ripping you apart bloody piece by bloody piece. Or,” she said, a dark smile growing on her lips. “You shut that awful mouth of yours and tell me what I want to hear and I’ll try my hardest to remember to end your life as quickly and as pain-free as possible. How does that sound? Good? Good,” she continued, not waiting for his answer. Molly dug her nails into her palm and grinned at him once more, innocent and carefree, but it was clear to both of them that she was anything but. “So, one of your men poisoned Salvatore Knight. You’re going to tell me who.”

  Fitz rolled his head and groaned. “I don’t know who did that, but fucking good. That bastard deserved to die.”

  Molly breathed out slowly. “Fitz,” she began and moved closer, bending down to face him. When she was only inches away, she repeated his name. “That’s not a very nice thing to say now, is it,” she tsked reproachfully, her eyes full of fire.

  He leaned back, his wrists twisting against the binds.

  “Here,” she continued, the innocent look returning. “You tell me where your father is, and we’ll let you go. Without a single scratch on your body,” she said, but then looked at his cut lip and bruised eyes. “Well, without a single new scratch anyway. All you have to do is tell me, and then you’re free. Your father is the Dux after all. He’s the one to blame for this war. So, tell me, Fitz. Where. Is. Your. Father?”

  “Fucking naïve bitch!” Molly jolted at his sudden rage. He moved against the binds, attempting to get closer and she stood. “I have no idea where the fuck he is. My father would let you remove my organs, my bones, even my fucking dick before he’d hand himself over. I’m worthless to you and I’m worthless to him. We’re talking about the man who chose to rip his own wife’s heart out for his damn Ares. Do you honestly think he gives two fucks about me? He trusts no one, not even me. I know nothing.”

  Molly folded her arms, thinking over what to do, what to say next.

  Fitz laughed and she turned to face him. “Didn’t take long did it?”

  She didn’t answer and watched him, his bloody teeth flashing as he closed and opened his mouth.

  “Your almighty king, he got tired of you, didn’t he?” he said and laughed violently, his body shaking. “He’s probably spreading the thighs of all the court’s high ladies as we speak. Wonder if their pussies taste sweeter than yours? They probably do, you’re filth anyway.”

  White-hot rage stormed her and before she could stop, she slid a knife from the holster against her thigh and stabbed it deep into his arm—crushing bones, blood splattering against her pristine lace dress.

  Her free hand found his jaw and her finger
s bruised his skin.

  “I warned you not to cross me, Fitz,” she hissed and forced his head further back, his neck straining, his airway blocked by her force. “I have that vicious king’s blood inside of me and I will be just as savage as any one of your kind. Perhaps, even worse.” She twisted the knife deeper and the muffled noise of a scream escaped his open mouth. “You will tell me where your precious father is and he will come to me or I will kill every person associated with him until he shows himself to me and me alone. Understood?”

  He nodded against her hand and all at once, she saw clearly.

  She slowly let go, stepping back on shaky legs. Her hands were coated in his blood and he stared at her, wide-eyed, catching his own breath.

  She swallowed and turned, moving up the stairs and once she shut the door, she leaned against the wall.

  Deep breaths battled inside of her chest and she looked up to see Evelyn standing at the end of the hallway watching her.

  She cocked a brow.

  Molly calmed herself and continued walking, ignoring the fact that her white dress was splattered in blood.

  Her behavior, her violence, her outrage—was all linked to the demon child inside of her.

  His vicious loyalty, his powerful anger smoothed through her and wrapped around her nerve-endings.

  She excused herself and cleaned the blood off of her cheeks and nose, like red freckles and tried to wash the red from her dress.

  She was vicious, she was powerful, she was lethal.

  She had to be careful.

  She had to be strategic or someone would use it against her.

  THE COURT echoed with laughter and music, the dancers moving smoothly across the marble slabs in the dining hall.

  A token of appreciation from Lilith to Tensley.

  One he didn’t care for.

  The fawning over him had grown past infuriating and as he sat back, his chin rested on his fist, he didn’t know how much longer he could stand.

  It also didn’t help that his daemon would be visiting him tonight. All week he had spent his time outside, under the rain, under the sun, in the snow, beating himself to the point of pure exhaustion. His army questioned him as he pushed them for hours and hours of no rest, of no water.

  He wanted to be punished for thinking such unholy thoughts of his daemon.

  The threat, the fear of falling under her control again pushed him further.

  The entire time he thought of her glossy curls, how soft they were as he ran his fingers through them or those full pink lips of hers. Those lips were deadly to him. So badly he wanted to bite them, devour them, but one touch, one taste, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  The last thing he needed was to lose control under her touch.

  He needed to keep his mind straight, keep himself from growing weak over a human again.

  But he needed her, he wanted her and that drove him to the point of breaking all over again.

  Maybe one taste would be enough. Maybe he’d be the one controlling her, earning those mewls as he sucked on one of her nipples.

  He clenched his teeth and cursed himself.

  At the sudden sound of applause, he realized the dancers were done and moving away.

  “I hope that pleased you, my lord,” Lilith whispered and dragged a finger along his thigh.

  He didn’t speak to her. He knew her games and he knew she craved power more than anything and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was planning something behind his back.

  Tensley stood, Lilith’s hand falling back into her lap as he moved to leave his throne.

  “My lord?” Lilith’s voice hinted at her frustration but he didn’t care. She knew who visited him every fourth night and he wondered if the ‘token of appreciation’ was an excuse to keep him away from his daemon.

  Nothing could keep him from her.

  He marched down the halls, his boots thumping loudly, and his chest throbbing. The sliver of heart within him pulsed violently, as if searching for more, searching for room to grow.

  As he turned the corner to his chambers, he caught sight of a petite figure, a cloak of darkness hiding her head.

  She was leaving though.

  He stormed ahead and before she could get far, he gripped the back of her hood and spun her so she hit his chest.

  She gasped, her wide vivid eyes glowing up at him. Wet lashes, bloodshot eyes.

  “Tensley—” The mere sound of his name on those fuckable lips went straight to his cock and he growled. Her shock vanished fast though and she shoved at his chest. “You don’t need me tonight. You’ll have your hands full.”

  He caught her bicep and again yanked her flat against his body. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Don’t act stupid, asshole.”

  He wanted to snap back, to fucking curse, but he saw her anger was only hiding her pain as she blinked back tears.

  She fucking still cared.

  Too fucking much that it made the beast wild with need.

  He opened his mouth, but the flurry of giggles halted him and he tensed.

  He didn’t look away from Molly’s wet eyes and he jerked her with him as he turned and marched into his chambers, throwing open the doors.

  Three women draped in sheer dresses hiding nothing lay on his bed.

  “My king,” they all chanted sickeningly.

  His beast was on the edge and with a deep breath, he pointed to the door. “Get. Out. Now.”

  The three women paled, but didn’t move and that only irritated him further.

  “Now!”

  He felt Molly flinch at his loud, booming voice.

  The women fled, dashing out of the room with bowed heads.

  Tensley let Molly go and ran a hand down his face.

  “Sit,” he commanded, gesturing to his chair.

  After a long moment, Molly moved to his gold chair and sat down.

  He eyed her bowed head, the light blonde smoothed down her back and—

  Tensley moved fast and grabbed a few strands of her hair. She jerked up, confusion written all over her features.

  “You have blood in your hair,” he said, rubbing his thumb on the few strands tainted with red.

  She blinked rapidly and he watched her throat constrict. “I—I might have tortured someone.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Your son is just as vicious as you,” she whispered, a sad smile playing on her lips. It faded fast.

  He let her hair go but he stood above her, watching her carefully. “Why were you torturing someone?”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “It’s my own business.”

  Her words were a dagger to his chest, but he kept a cool expression on. “Tell me.”

  She stayed silent, her hands rubbing up and down her thighs. “They found Fitz Junior. I was torturing him for answers as to where his father could be hiding”

  Tensley grew rigid. Those bastards. Scorpios. Ares. All of his old responsibility.

  “When I came back a little over a month ago, Evelyn Rose was acting as Dux,” Molly added and he glared at her. But before he could rage, she spoke soft and clear and it went both to his forbidden heart and groin. “I, of course, put her in her place and took up the position as Dux. As it should be. As your wife.” He couldn’t look away from the blonde siren; humming a lullaby only him and the beast heard so he’d crash into rocks and sink deep into the darkness of her. “Your family obviously provides a lot of help too.”

  There was a strength, a lethal touch to her that hadn’t been there the moment he met her and the beast warred inside of him for dominance.

  She brought both the beast and the man to the surface.

  Tensley sighed and moved to one of his side tables, gripping a clay pitcher of water. He walked back over to her and gestured for her to stand.

  She did and he gripped the few strands of red and slowly, carefully, he poured the water onto his fingers and her strands. With a steady thumb, he rubbed the strands, the
water turning red on his fingers and rolling down her cloak and pooling on the floor between them.

  Once the redness remained only on his fingers, he let go and returned the pitcher to the side, feeling her eyes watching his every move.

  He walked slowly back to her, rubbing the redness between his fingers and thumb. When they started to shake from his exhaustion, he fisted them.

  “Only my queen would wear the blood of an enemy,” he whispered and sat down on his bed. The pain in his chest vibrated, a fist of pain wrapping around his growing heart until he saw black dots.

  “Are you all right?” That sweet voice asked and he felt her touch his cheek, but his vision blurred. Inside of him, his body needed her, craved her like an addict.

  “Stay,” he told her, his voice coming out softer than he wanted.

  Then everything blurred and went black.

  MOLLY RUBBED HER thumb along her trembling bottom lip, watching as the healer worked over Tensley’s unconscious, trembling body. Once he had passed out, she panicked at his grunts of pain, his body thrashing as if physically ill.

  She had found the prince and he had called for a healer, and now all she could do was wait.

  “Hmm,” the healer whispered, rubbing a soothing oil onto Tensley’s bare chest. The long, rough scar of where his heart had been ripped out an ugly line of remembrance. Tensley grunted again, twisting his head to the side.

  “It is his heart?” Molly asked, the question boiling inside of her. What if her curse had actually hurt him more? Weakened both the man and the demon and was just pure poison to him everyday?

  “I do not know,” the healer answered, frowning as she stood back. She turned to face Molly, her features drawn into a frown. “But his body needs strength of touch. He has starved himself, that I can tell from his body’s weakness.”

  Molly’s stomach dropped. He was weak…because he wasn’t getting intimacy from anyone. Only a few touches from her and then he sent her off.

  Had he been living with the weakness, the pain because he didn’t want to push her too far too fast?

  “What can I do?” Molly asked, standing up from her chair.

  The healer eyed the length of Molly’s body. “Lie beside him. Simply make sure as much of your body is touching as much of him as possible, so it speeds up the process. That alone should help feed his body.”