To Crown A Beast (Blackest Gold Book 4)

by R. Scarlett

MOLLY ENTERED HER apartment and sighed, removing her hat and mittens covered in snow.

  With little touches, she had made the large apartment feel like home. As much as it could without Tensley. The furniture was a mix of traditional and classic, blend of warm and chic. Homey, friendly, and comfy.

  She picked up an apple and took a bite, glancing at the work she had done in the apartment. She’d miss it, but hopefully she would only have to stay at the Scorpios property for a few months, until things calmed down, and the war with Ares hopefully ended.

  Just as she took another bite, she heard footsteps from the master bedroom. Her heart halted as she edged around the corner.

  “Illya?”

  She peeked inside her bedroom and that same heart began beating fast.

  Tensley sat on the edge of the bed, a stuffed teddy bear in his hands sat between his spread thighs.

  His head was bowed, his fingers brushing over the smooth fur of the brown bear.

  “Tensley,” Molly whispered, tiptoeing in.

  He still kept his head lowered, his eyes trained on the bear in his large hands.

  When she thought he wasn’t going to say a word to her, she moved closer.

  “I could have given you all of this,” he muttered and she paused, her eyes widening at the sound of his husky voice.

  The sound went straight to her core.

  His head lifted and he stared at the bedroom, focusing on the white crib Illya built.

  Her heart pounded fast, in her own pain, at Tensley’s pain.

  “You still can,” Molly whispered back.

  He fisted the bear and laughed darkly. “You built our son a life. And I wasn’t there to help.”

  Molly swallowed thickly and now it was her turn to lower her head. She could hear the pain in his voice even as it came out like steel.

  “Did Illya help you?”

  Molly paused and looked up to find him staring at her, his jaw line stiff.

  She nodded. “He stays here. To help me. He comes to my doctor appointments.”

  Tensley nodded in return, moving his focus back to the teddy bear. She watched him closely, how his body tensed, how he examined the tiny toy in his large, powerful hands. Those hands that had burned her with pleasure and then the same moment caressed her with affection she had been craving for months just the same morning.

  “When’s your next appointment?” he asked, standing to his full height.

  Molly blinked fast. “Uh— oh! Well, tomorrow actually,” she said with a tentative smile.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said, his eyes piercing hers in a way that told her he was coming with her no matter what.

  She caught her breath. “Okay.” Standing next to him, watching him scan the room, noting each detail as his hands skimmed each toy, each item, she thought of earlier that day.

  Of Evelyn.

  Of his father.

  She swallowed thickly. “We found out who poisoned your father, Tensley,” Molly told him, tilting her head to see his profile.

  He paused, his stormy eyes catching hers. He stared back at her, working his jaw. “And?”

  She knew the anger stirred within him and she saw the man more than the beast take control.

  His father even if he had been an asshole had been important to the man.

  “It was Evelyn Rose,” she told him, scanning his features for a sign of distress.

  He continued to work his jaw and turned back to the room, as if unsure how to react. She saw his fists clench, saw his dress shirt strain on his back.

  “I sentenced her to imprisonment in the High Court,” she said after he hadn’t spoken for a moment. When he still didn’t respond, she took a step closer. “I know you would have decided differently—”

  “It’s what I would have done,” he said, lowly, cutting her off.

  She stared at the back of his dark head, hair thick and a slight wave curling around the back of his neck.

  “Never doubt yourself, dolcezza. I would trust you to rule over my men,” he said.

  The compliment seized her heart and she fisted her hands. She needed to tell him. She needed to tell the man what she was withholding.

  “Tensley,” she whispered and reached out to skim her fingers along his palm. “Your father died.”

  She felt the air shift in the room, she felt the way his body tensed, and she heard the low growl from his mouth.

  She blinked back tears and bit her lip, fighting from crying aloud. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tensley’s hand gripped hers—tightly and he turned around. His dark eyes looked so heavy, so weighed down by exhaustion and sadness.

  “I’m so sorry, Tensley,” Molly whispered again and the warmth blurred her vision. She touched his cheek and he closed his eyes. Minutes passed and they stayed so close, so together, she heard his low breaths.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered back.

  Tensley’s eyes scanned her face, as if trying to memorize what she looked like. He lifted his hand and his fingers brushed across her cheekbones and up into her hairline. It was just a touch, just a skimming of fingers, but it made her heart stop, it made her shiver in delight and terror, and she leaned closer into his tender and dominating touch.

  “I was coming to see you in four days,” Molly whispered, her eyes dropping to his full mouth of sin.

  His eyes darkened. “I couldn’t stay away from you for that long.” That same mouth met hers in a brutal kiss, in a kiss of worship and power, of adoration and lust, and she melted into him.

  She gripped the back of his neck and his tongue played with hers, a moan fleeting from her mouth and into his.

  He moved them back until he sat down on the bed and she straddled his hips. His blunt length pulsed against her core and she ground herself against him.

  He bit back a groan and cherished her.

  They were addicted to each other—the beast may still be warring inside of him, but both of them enjoyed the pleasure and pain.

  And just like the man she fell in love with, he destroyed her over and over again all night.

  WAKING UP NEXT to Molly was a blessing and a curse. He felt himself harden at the sight of her, curled up against him, her leg resting on his thigh, every once in a while skimming his swollen length.

  Her curls glistened across his chest and each time he moved slightly, she moaned and moved closer.

  He was addicted to feeling her next to him and the thought of returning to High Court without her sent a painful throb throughout his body.

  When he heard her stomach grumble, he slid from her touch and crept into the kitchen. He made eggs and toast, sunny side up just the way he remembered she loved them and he made a fruit bowl.

  Just as he poured some orange juice, he heard her footsteps and turned to find her walking into the kitchen. His eyes instantly dropped to her swollen belly hidden underneath his dress shirt and it did crazy things to his mind and body.

  His beast growled his approval. His dolcezza was purely his and he had the evidence to show it. It was a primal, territorial feeling he knew some males were ashamed of, but he couldn’t care less. He liked it.

  “You made breakfast?” Still half-asleep, she tiptoed over to him and when she was only a footstep away, she touched his arm. “Thank you. I’m starving,” she added with a soft smile, just as her belly growled once more.

  He stared at her, his eyes going to her sweet, sleepy smile. He cleared his throat. “I was going to bring it to you in bed.”

  Her smile widened and she leaned into him, kissing his cheek. Just a single touch from her and he was an inferno. He wanted to take her on the counter, but he remembered how the entire night he had taken her—slowly, unrushed, kissing each inch of her until she fell asleep in his arms, still buried deep inside of her.

  She needed to rest.

  He pulled out her chair and she sat down, not without sending him another smile.

  Her smiles were his undoing and the devil would have to
save him if she ever came to learn that about him. He sat down next to her.

  “Last night,” she whispered as she bit into her toast and swallowed. Her gaze dropped when he turned to look at her. Slowly, she looked up at him and he saw the beautiful blush spread across the apples of her cheeks. “Was nice.”

  He scowled. “Nice?”

  She laughed, covering her mouth. “Judging from your expression, I take it nice certainly wasn’t the right word to use.”

  “No, it fucking wasn’t,” he hissed and cut into his eggs, glaring down at them. “Nice,” he mumbled to himself, stabbing one of his eggs and she laughed some more. Whatever bit of heart he had squeezed at the sound, then pulsed vividly.

  Her hand slid onto his thigh and he froze.

  “It wasn’t nice. It was heaven and hell,” he whispered to her, and her gaze caught his. “It was beautiful, it was dangerous. It was more than fucking nice,” he added on the same tone. His finger caught her chin, strongly enough that she couldn’t move her head, that her eyes couldn’t look anywhere but straight into his own. “Admit it, or I might just have to go for seconds. To remind you. Right here, right now, until you admit it. And I won’t be gentle about it.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat, Mr. Knight?” she asked, with a ravenous smile. “If it is, a threat is meant to make people afraid of the outcome, not the opposite.”

  “It’s not a threat, dolcezza, but a promise.”

  She laughed again, the sound oddly sensual and youthful at once, as her hand left his thigh to caress her stomach once more. Her eyes moved across his features and he wondered what she was thinking. “Can I kiss you now?”

  Tensley frowned at her. “I’m your husband.”

  “My estranged king,” she argued, shrugging playfully.

  His hold on her chin dropped, and she stared back at him, a shy look took over her features. But she didn’t look away. His hand swept up her neck and under her hair, gripping it into a makeshift ponytail. “And you’re my queen. My queen who enjoys running away from me, making me crave her more and more with each visit until it fucking hurts. That’s not very nice, is it?” he asked, his own voice filled with need as the tip of his nose brushed against hers.

  His lips dove for hers and he kissed her like he was a dying man. As if she was going to be ripped from him again.

  “Not very nice indeed,” she whispered into the kiss.

  A knock sounded at the door and he hissed, pulling back.

  “Expecting someone?” he asked her, studying her reddened features.

  She shook her head, trying to catch her breath.

  Tensley stood, unfazed by the fact that he was only in sweatpants and swung open the door.

  That damn hippie warlock was the last person he expected to see.

  “Hey,” Lance said, his beanie sat sagging on his head. “Long time no see, big guy.”

  “Lance?” Molly asked, moving behind Tensley. Her eyes brightened at the sight of him. “How are you? I wasn’t expecting you today. Did you find out anything?”

  Tensley frowned at the two of them. “Find out what?”

  Lance shoved his way inside and eyed their apartment, nodding at each item like he approved of it. “Fancy,” he whistled appreciatively.

  “Lance?” Molly asked, standing behind him.

  “Oh yeah,” he said, clicking back into the present. “I did some more digging, it wasn’t easy, but I managed to find some things that could potentially be helpful.”

  Tensley scowled. “Things? Helpful? What is this damned warlock talking about? Molly?”

  “Lance was looking into information about the baby for us,” Molly told him. She felt over her stomach again. “So, did you find anything about a half daemon, half demon baby?”

  “Yes and no. Many of the things I found are mostly speculations, there are no facts to back them up, so hear me out,” he said, shrugging as an apologetic half smile appeared on his lips. “I did notice the last time you came over to my place that your aura was perceptibly more dim, almost as if it had faded a bit. However, I did find one legend about the tale of a woman, it doesn’t say if she was daemon or demon, but she was blessed with a child like yours growing within her womb. Half daemon and half demon. It said that the more the child grew, the more tired and weak the woman felt. And that’s because the demon part of the baby only had one source of energy, of contact; its mother,” Lance said, nodding vividly as if it was all crucial information. “Demons are demanding by nature, insatiable almost. They can never truly absorb too much energy. And so…” He stopped himself, biting into his bottom lip as he looked at Tensley nervously.

  Tensley stopped breathing for a beat, waiting for what was to come, knowing he wasn’t going to like it at all.

  “Eventually, the tale ends with the woman dying because the baby drained the life out of her, but of course it’s just a legend and is very unlikely to ever happen,” Lance added, the words tumbling out of his mouth so fast Tensley barely managed to understand what he had just told them. And he guessed that was exactly Lance’s intentions, because he sure as hell had just dropped a bomb on the both of them. Tensley’s blood turned cold, fear wrapping around his heart.

  He knew it was just a legend, and that most legends ended tragically for added impact and drama, but still… he looked at Molly, war raging inside of him. She looked at peace, serene. As if she knew the baby had been feeding off of her. As if without really knowing, she had known the baby had been taking more and more of her energy. But she didn’t look worried.

  “Plus, like I said earlier,” Lance began again, uncomfortable with the sudden silence that had appeared between all of them. “The legend didn’t specify if the woman was a daemon or a demon. But considering daemons are considered like an unending well of power and strength to demons, my guess would be that the woman in the story was demon. Which, in turn means there is no reason to be alarmed, and also would therefore mean the father was daemon. Was he only carrying the gene like your father, or could he actually wield the power, that is unfortunately left unanswered once more.”

  Tensley still swallowed with difficulty, feeling uneasy.

  What if it was true? What if the baby could indeed drain the life out of Molly?

  A low growl resonated within him. No. It wouldn’t happen. She was fine, she was strong. Everything would be fine.

  “So what about our baby? You talked about my aura being more dim than it used to be. What do you think it means?” Molly asked, and she gave Tensley a reassuring smile.

  “Based on all of this, I think it means you’re further along than you think you are. I’m guessing by the amounts of energy he’s taking from you that he’s bigger, stronger than anticipated as well,” Lance answered, eyeing Molly up and down.

  “By the amount the baby is draining your energy, he’s growing fast. He’s strong. You’re probably further along than you expected.”

  “How much further?” Molly asked, her brow furrowing in worry. “Would you be able to tell?”

  Lance hummed, stepped closer and placed his hands just an inch away from her stomach. Tensley itched to push him back, but didn’t. “I don’t pretend to be a specialist in the matter, but I can sense his own aura within you. My guess would be somewhere over seven months. He’s growing fast, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were to have him earlier than expected if he keeps growing at this rate.”

  Molly sat down on the couch, her skin ghostly pale, her hands on her belly, stroking the roundness, speaking softly to their son.

  Tensley rolled his hands into fists on his thighs. After Molly had left High Court, his beast and the man battled inside of him.

  They both wanted her.

  They both craved her near.

  If she just agreed to stay with him—

  He shook his head. He wanted to protect his family, he wanted to see her.

  The moment he tasted her again, felt her soft skin against his own, he knew he couldn’t let her go. He would never be
able to rid her from his system and he didn’t want to.

  “A baby in the middle of a war. The baby can’t come now, not so soon. Not when it’s so dangerous. What are we going to do…?” she whispered, gaze lost in the distance.

  “The best way to keep you both healthy, to make sure everything goes smoothly with the pregnancy, is getting energy yourself,” Lance added, his eyes darting to Tensley.

  Molly’s eyes looked up at him.

  Neither of them had to speak. They both knew what that meant. Being more intimate. Another reason why she should come back with him to High Court.

  “And what about him being a daemon… you still can’t tell if he’ll have my powers?” Molly asked, holding her stomach.

  “I believe only once the baby is born we’ll know for sure. If he has your eyes,” Lance said, gesturing to Molly’s wide eyes, “then we’ll know for sure. But even if he never shows any signs, he’ll still be half demon. There is no doubt he’ll have the same needs and wants as a demon, whether he has daemon powers or not.”

  Molly nodded, dropping her gaze to her belly.

  Tensley stood stiffly next to her and looked up at Lance. “Thank you.”

  Lance smiled and waved, leaving the two of them alone in the apartment.

  Tensley sat down across from her, his hands between his spread thighs, thinking over how to fix everything. How to comfort her.

  He stayed the night, lying beside her, but he hadn’t been able to sleep. He watched her breathe shallowly. His fear was irrational, but he didn’t want anything to happen to her. He didn’t want to lose her again.

  He was needed back in High Court though. He shouldn’t have stayed so long. He shouldn’t have stayed up all night listening to her breathing and her heart beat.

  But he had.

  When morning came, he kissed her lips softly, stirring her away from her dreams.

  “I need to go back,” he told her and she glanced up at him.

  Her expression fell, but she didn’t argue. “Okay.”

  He stood still, unable to walk away. Unable to turn his back on her again.

  She held her stomach and stared back at him through her lashes. A look of want, a look of confusion.