by R. Scarlett
Molly nodded and watched as the healer walked away, leaving her alone with the king of beasts.
A groan left his pursed full lips, his shoulders rolling as the pain riddled his body. Molly stepped forward, smoothing down her nightgown. She undid her cloak and laid it on a nearby chair.
His roar of agony took her breath away, another attack of pain ravaging his body.
Her eyes swung to the thrashing king, a scream of anguish vibrating straight to her bones. She rushed to his side and climbed onto the bed, her hands gripping his shoulders.
“Tensley,” she said, her own voice shaky, but loud enough for him to hear. “Tensley!” Her hands found his sweaty cheeks and she patted them roughly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
On a roar, his eyes flashed open and he stilled, slowly, taking in his surroundings until he focused on her above him.
She continued to stroke his hot skin, hoping to calm him. She could feel the quick beat of his heart on her palm—that sliver of heart, that iron gift.
When she stared down at him, into his grey stormy eyes, her heart stopped.
A glimmer, a glimpse of the man.
So stripped bare and exposed, she almost kissed him. The man—Tensley stared back at her with fear and confusion and then—adoration. He was still trapped in-between that dream stage and waking stage.
“I’m here,” she managed to whisper and lay down beside him.
When his fingers touched the inner side of her arm, she swallowed down a shuddered breath.
“Stay.” It was a command, softened by his husky voice of sleep. She rested her head on his shoulder and couldn’t escape his eyes.
Her hand still massaged his chest, where his heart pounded and he didn’t remove it.
She watched for minutes until his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing evened out.
She was so close—she knew she could break down his high walls and find his iron heart.
THE LIGHTS SPRAWLED across her golden hair.
It was the first thing he noticed.
Those strands of spun-gold, cascading down the exposed porcelain back he wished to mark. His fingers pressed to the bottom of her spine, earning a tiny mewl of pleasure, of pain, and he withdrew.
Her hand, that delicate hand that wielded too much power over him, over his court, laid limply on his chest. On his heart. And under her touch, the forbidden organ grew wild, pumping and thrashing inside of him and fear seized him.
She was the blessing and the curse.
When he pulled back, he found his other hand had been resting on her stomach. He paused, staring at her belly and swept his palm across the tiny bump—barely visible to the naked eye, but he felt it.
He felt the energy inside of her. The power, the essence of a daemon and a demon.
His son.
His flesh and blood.
“Tensley?”
He tore his hand away and stood, running his shaking hands through his hair. He yanked a pair of trousers from a nearby chair and pulled them on, only to bend forward in pain as his heart grew wild inside of him once more.
Fucking shit.
“Tensley,” that soft voice said, but it stormed his mind and when her delicate hand touched his bare back, he threw it off.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, as he felt the beast overthrow the man within him. He hoped his black eyes would warn her off.
She gawked at him, the sunlight outlining her frame and her gold hair. He wanted to kiss her.
He wanted to yank her to him to calm the storm inside of him, but the beast warred forward.
Stay in control.
Stay in power.
Do not let her win.
He clenched his teeth and through deep breaths, managed to leave the room.
He needed air, he needed to destroy, but he continued to march, the court members stopping in the hallway to watch their king.
Even outside, he did not stop.
He stormed through the gardens and stomped into the forest. When he saw the lake ahead, he yanked off his pants and walked into the cool water, the iciness biting his skin as he walked deeper into its depths.
He gasped, from the cold, from the sudden relief and dunked his head under the clear water.
Until the thrashing inside of him settled down and he dragged himself back to the shore, laying his weak body into the hard sand.
The grains of sand clung to his wet torso and cheeks, his hair littered with dots. An ache deep in his chest took his breath away and he coughed, the sky spinning. Hot and cold battled in his body and he squeezed his eyes shut to fight through it.
Fight.
Fight.
Fucking fight.
He heard the sand crunch and he lazily glanced up the shore to find her.
The plague of a girl that destroyed him through and through, and fucking hell, he was beginning to want her, too.
Destroy him until he begged for another tender kiss.
One he ached for on his very mouth right now.
He licked at his bottom lip, like the hungry beast he was.
Ravage her, savage.
Just a few steps away and he’d be able to touch her, hold her, let her consume him entirely. He grunted, pushing himself up and staggered toward her.
“Molly,” he breathed and she stumbled back. “Molly.”
He quickened his pace and when he saw her turn away, the anger grew within him.
“Molly.”
She rushed forward as if scared, terrified of him, only to collide with a man.
Seto caught her and held her, his callused hands stroking her with possessiveness and care, as if she was his.
And as Molly turned her head to gaze back at him, Tensley came to a complete stop.
Because it wasn’t Molly.
But Prim. The girl who they’d been told was dead. Her brown hair matted, not the platinum blonde that smelled like sunrays, and her skin was freckled with dirt, not Molly’s ivory complexion.
“Prim,” he whispered, unable to look away from the woman he mistook for his.
She shuddered when he spoke.
“My lord,” Seto said, his eyes dropping to Tensley’s lower body. Seto pulled Prim closer.
When he remembered he was naked, he turned around and found his pants, slipping them back on.
“Go back to the cottage,” Seto whispered to Prim and he pressed a tender kiss to her temple. Tensley couldn’t look away, detailing the soft shared moment. The fraction of a heart within him ached at the sight. A sight he envied, a sight he craved. He wanted to be tender with Molly, but the beast roared, only to die out by the beating of his heart.
To be tender was dangerous.
He pressed two fingers to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut. The emotions fought inside of him. For dominance over his mind, over his body.
“My lord?” Seto questioned, moving closer.
Tensley shook his head, trying to ignore the craving, the confusion in his heart and mind. “She was dead…”
Seto grimaced. “Fallen lied. He sold her off.”
Tensley looked over the man before him. A man of once power now trying to protect the woman he had thought he lost.
“You’ve been hiding her out here?” Tensley asked.
Seto squared his shoulders. “Yes. I do not want the court taking her from me again.”
The harsh bite of Seto’s words told Tensley just how uneasy the man was with him around. The beast was territorial and protective of his mate. Just the thought of Molly alone drove him mad. The sliver of a heart began to ache and he felt the anxiety, the fear slide up his spine. He shifted on his feet, fixing his stance, begging the awful sensation to stop.
Seto waited, eyeing Tensley’s frame. “The beast is unsettled,” Seto began after a long pause.
Tensley turned to face him and didn’t hide his glare. “Be careful with your next words, Seto.”
Seto didn’t flinch. “You crave her, but you fear her.”
Tensley
wiped the excessive water from his top lip and grains of sand cut across his skin. “I fear nothing.”
“You want her close, but not too close,” Seto continued. “But if you want her to stay, you will have to give her a taste of what you can offer her.”
Tensley licked at his teeth. He didn’t want to admit his fear, his anxiety of her not being here next to him or when she was here, his fear of her sucking him back in.
Tensley threw his hands, gesturing to around them. “I can offer her everything.”
Seto stayed silent, his hands cupped in front of him. The look alone told Tensley it wasn’t enough. “Give her a taste of the king—court her, soothe her.”
“Court her?”
Seto ignored Tensley’s bitter tone and stepped closer. “You cannot hide from it, your majesty. You cannot hide from her. She cursed you and slowly, with each touch, each word she speaks, the curse will grow.”
Tensley gritted his teeth, glaring at the ground, the roots exposed. Like himself.
His heart was growing—fast and the war inside of him was destroying the beast, shoving him further back.
At the mere thought of her, he grew dizzy, ill to his stomach, the intensity inside of him burnt and all he wanted was her in front of him. To hold her, to soothe her, to kiss her tenderly on her lips and cherish her.
The beast roared, but his heart spoke louder, colliding inside of him.
He ran, leaving behind Seto and rushing toward the palace. He rushed down the hallways, the court members stepping aside to gawk at his disheveled appearance, his soaked hair and bare chest.
“My lord,” Lilith called as she stepped into the hallway, her eyes widening and darkening all at once at his naked torso.
He brushed past her and stormed into his rooms, his heart in his throat, but his stomach dropped brutally low.
The room was empty, the sheets twisted, a sign of their slumber together. Molly was gone and the beast and his heart raged.
“Fuck,” he hissed and in his wrath, he destroyed anything in his path. His heart burnt, his beast silenced.
And when the entire room was a wreck like what battled inside of him, he collapsed with torn sheets in his hands and her name panting from his mouth like a fucking prayer.
She cursed him—and he planned to curse her to crave him just as much.
That he fucking promised.
WHEN MOLLY RETURNED to Scorpios, she felt sick too her stomach. Not because of the baby who decided he’d start moving around like a speedboat, but because of Tensley’s reaction.
She saw him—she saw the glimpse of the man before he had his heart ripped out, but he was buried too deep inside. Every two steps forward, were five steps back.
She knew one man may be able to help her dig deeper, but she wasn’t sure how he would react.
Molly climbed up the stairs of an apartment that should have been vacant. Used condoms littered in the brown carpet. Smoke and the stench of something rotten filled her nostrils.
Maybe this wasn’t the wisest decision…
Dark stains faded into the carpet and she cringed. Definitely blood.
Each paper-thin door looked exactly the same and as she neared 54, she paused.
With Tensley, she knew where she stood. He wouldn’t attack her, but with another beast?
She rolled her shoulders and stepped forward, knocking on the hollow door.
She listened, waiting for movement.
Nothing.
She frowned and pounded on the door.
Footsteps thudded in the apartment and before Molly could brace herself, the door swung open revealing a freshly showered Beau.
His dark eyes shot daggers at her and she swallowed.
“Why are you here?” His voice held no threat, no anger, but annoyance.
She straightened her purse strap. “To see you. About your brother.”
His jaw, the same sharp jaw as his brother, flexed and wavered under his death clench. “The heartless king.”
She wasn’t sure if he was trying to joke, but she simply stared back at him, waiting for a gesture to come inside.
“Just for a few minutes,” she urged, stepping closer.
His entire body blocked the doorway and he kept a firm grip on the door, his body language telling her she wasn’t wanted.
Too bad she knew how to get under the skin of a Knight.
“Not interested.” He went to shut the door and Molly jerked forward, putting her foot inside to stop the door from closing.
“Please Beau,” she whispered, her eyes finding his and pleading.
Beau scowled down at her and she felt his hatred storm off of him. He opened his mouth, but another voice spoke.
“Beau? What are you doing?” Lex tipped her head to the side, her damp brown hair falling over one shoulder. Lex’s features softened, her cheeks burning bright red. “Molly, what are you doing here?”
Molly bit her tongue and exchanged a look between the two of them. Lex only wore a long t-shirt down to her knees and Beau was shirtless with a pair of jeans on. Were they a thing now?
Lex pulled Beau back by his arm. “Come in, Molly.”
Molly stepped inside the apartment—a large enough apartment for a couple, but she assumed only Beau lived here.
It wasn’t anything special, but it wasn’t awful.
The kitchen was outdated and the couches were worn.
Lex stood in front of Molly as Beau stood in the middle of the room. Molly could feel more of Beau’s resistance to being close to Lex.
“Oh my god,” Lex whispered and pressed a hand to Molly’s stomach. Molly stilled, not used to people touching her belly. “How far are you?”
“I’ll be five months in a day or two.” Molly smiled and smoothed her own hands along her belly.
When she looked up at Beau, she saw his nostrils flare, his eyes unable to look away from her stomach. She thought of his own unborn child and the human Fallen murdered. What did he feel seeing his brother’s wife pregnant? Anger? Fear? Terror? Remorse?
“Beau,” Molly began and his head shot up. “I wanted to ask you about…” She glanced at Lex, who’s brows had knitted in a frown. “About being heartless… about… getting better.”
Beau simply stared, working his jaw.
Once a demon’s heart was ripped out, it could grow back, but it took time and nurturing, and she doubted in this society of demons it would happen so quickly.
Lex stared through her lashes at him, a longing in her eyes.
“Why?” he finally spoke.
Molly licked at her lips and moved closer. “So I can help him. Make it better for him.”
Beau tsked. “To save him. For your own selfishness. Maybe he’s better as a beast. Maybe he wants to stay that way.”
Lex folded her arms. “Better as a beast?”
Beau glared at Lex. “Take a walk. This has nothing to do with you.”
Lex blanched and then her delicate features morphed into a scowl. “Fuck you.”
Lex grabbed a bag off of the couch and stomped out, slamming the door behind her.
Molly didn’t move, staring at Beau as he ran a hand down his face.
A few seconds passed before Molly spoke. “Are you and her…?”
Beau shook his head. “No.”
Molly nodded, deciding it was best to steer clear of that conversation. “Beau, how much of a heart do you have?”
Beau sighed and turned to his kitchen. He turned on the tap and poured himself a cup of water. “Over half a heart.” He took a large gulp of his water, the droplets littering on his dark beard. With a dark, steady stare he moved toward her. “It took ten years to get there.”
Molly’s heart clenched. “Ten years?”
He took another gulp and nodded. “Ten fucking years of darkness.”
Molly gripped the back of the couch for support. “What if I did something? To speed the process?”
Beau cocked a brow. “What exactly?”
She swallowed. �
��I cursed him to grow a heart.”
Beau’s brow dropped low and he stepped forward, anger in his movements. “You fucking cursed him?”
“I was desperate.”
Beau swore and paced. “Well, he better fucking still be alive. You didn’t kill him, right?”
Molly shook her head softly.
He shrugged after a moment. “I don’t know how it’ll work. It may grow back faster, it may still take time.”
She fisted her hands. Time wasn’t on her side.
She needed him home. She needed to give the prince the throne in exchange for Tensley’s life.
Beau looked straight into her eyes, gaze cold. So, so cold. “I had no Molly in my life during those ten years,” he said, spitting out her name like it was an insult. “Because I wasn’t lucky like my brother. The woman I fell for was long dead and so was my unborn child. No one and nothing helped me, so I don’t know shit about helping someone grow a heart. All I know is the darkness and pain that followed me around all those years. And it’s still there, it never goes away.”
Molly was taken aback by his words. It felt as if he had slapped her. But she couldn’t blame him for what he had said, if anything she understood his pain. The pain of seeing how even heartless, his brother still had people fighting for him, loving him, waiting for him to get better.
When Beau had become heartless, no one had fought for him, people had chosen to simply stand back and let the beast do whatever it wished. He had lost everything, he had been stripped of his right to become the future Dux, he had been shamed for his sins and brought darkness and shame upon his entire family. Looking at his brother, a king, a Dux, a man with a wife and a child on the way, a man who had lost a heart but gained everything else, it probably hurt more than Molly wanted to admit. No one had cared if Beau recovered, no one had hoped he would. They had all given up on him.
But when she thought of Lex, and what she had went through, of the darkness that had seeped within the girl after the horrible events from a few months ago, she realized maybe someone who understood the beast had finally chosen to help him. To step up and fight for him. He just hadn’t realized that yet.
