Cruel Crown: A Dark Romance (Sekten Book 2)

by C. Lymari

  Some kills marked you, while others set you free, and this one was a bit of both. I grabbed bottled water, took a sip, and then I poured the rest on Yorovich’s face. He was on a chair, his feet and hands bound. I crouched down so I could be at eye level with him and grinned at him when he looked at me.

  “Fuck, you have my dick so hard right now,” I told him. Blood drained from his face. I patted his cheek. “Before I send you to hell, you and I are going to have a bit of fun.”

  “Who are you?” he bit back, sounding strong.

  “I love it when they play hard to get,” I said loud enough for Bastian to hear me.

  What I didn’t do was answer Yoro right away. Instead, I circled him slowly and enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me, wondering when I’d strike—wondering if I’d aim to kill or just maim. I was straddling the line between man and monster, and I’d never felt so alive. Doing what I did, I knew which cuts would make you bleed right away, and which ones would hurt but keep you alive long enough to cause damage.

  “Are you playing duck, duck, goose or some shit? You’re giving me a headache.”

  I raised my middle finger and flicked off Bastian.

  When Yoro’s eyes went to Bas, that’s when I struck. I had twin blades in my hands, and I crisscrossed them across his chest. He hissed, but I didn’t intend for them to be painful.

  I kept circling Yoro each time, making cuts all over his arms, his legs, back, and chest. His white shirt was now red, his silver trousers maroon. I took a moment to appreciate my handiwork.

  “You want to know who I am?”

  Yoro glared at me, not speaking because I was sure he knew he wasn’t making it out of here alive, but he wanted to die with dignity. Cute. I had every intention of breaking him before I ended him. His face was still free of any cuts—I was saving those for last.

  Throwing the twin blades on the floor, I picked up a spray bottle I had brought, along with a small scalpel.

  Yoro spat on my shoes. “Let me guess. My worst nightmare?”

  “Oooh, he’s getting cute with you,” Bas’s voice mocked from behind me.

  “Nah, I’m not that cliché,” I told Yoro. “I’m the man who stole your woman under your roof.”

  I smirked at him when he glared at me, trying to get out of the restraints I put on him.

  “Not even a week after she had been in your bed and she was hopping on my dick.”

  Check. Fucking. Mate.

  He looked at me with hate, and I took a step toward him. I bent at eye level with him, so my spit was practically on his face.

  “You forced her, and yet, she never submitted.” I taunted him. “All the times I had her, she came willingly.”

  My hand struck, gripping his chin so his mouth would part open, and I cut upward toward his ear. Yoro screamed then. Blood poured down to my hand, and I smeared it on his face, and then I repeated the same process to the other side of his face. When I was done, I took a step back, looking at the Glasgow smile.

  I heard Bastian whistle, impressed, but he stayed quiet. I threw the scalpel to the side too and used the sprayer I had put aside earlier. Yoro screamed as I sprayed his face and his body with bleach.

  The smell of blood was no longer dominant, and it saddened me because I hated how bleach smelled, but hearing Yoro’s screams, that made it a bit better.

  “I can see you look happier than a kid at Disneyland, but can you move this along? Damian texted saying the jet should be here in three hours, and there’s something I still need to do.”

  Bas moved the cell phone as if I could read what he had talked about with the other Russian bastard.

  Circling behind Yoro, I grabbed his shoulders and put my mouth to his ear. “You hear that, mate? I’m going to see my woman. When I force her to kneel for me, she won’t even be thinking about you.”

  I pulled back, and then I kicked the chair forward and watched as Yoro fell face-first. While he was down, I kicked one of the legs from the chair out, and then I turned him over by kicking him in the ribs until I felt the bone break beneath my feet.

  I knew he was close to passing out.

  “Help me stand him,” I instructed Bas. He didn’t say shit and got up, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

  “Where do you want him?”

  “Bent over the chair,” I said as I motioned to the chair he had been sitting on.

  While he did as I asked, I took a sip of my water before bending to grab the twin blades and putting them in my back pockets.

  “Pull down his trousers,” I said in a low voice, letting the rage of all the shit he did consume me. This was for her, but it was also for me. Bas raised one of his brows and pulled Yoro’s bottoms down, revealing his pale arse. As for the Russian bastard, I thought he was crying.

  “Should I spit on it?” I asked Bas.

  “I don’t know? Do you think he was ever as kind to Daphne?”

  Nope. The fucker had been raping her since she was sixteen years old. Coming behind him, I put my body on top of his and put my mouth to his ear.

  Once he started to moan and beg for forgiveness, I shoved the leg of the chair up his arse. His scream tore through the air, sounds coming straight from hell. I felt blood trickle to my knuckles, and only then did I stop.

  Yoro was heaving, his body shaking. He never expected to feel violated, not like this. He didn’t even have it in him to scream, just a pathetic fucking sob. Grabbing the scalpel and dagger from my back pocket, I struck, the knife lodging in the middle of his right eye, the juices from the eye tracking down. The blade at the side of his head took a little more force to penetrate the thick skin down to the skull.

  When I was done, I felt calm, serene, and I was thinking clearer than I had in weeks.

  “Game over, Petal. I’m coming for you.”

  Part Two

  She didn’t want to be loved for her petals, she wanted to be loved for her thorns. She knew if someone loved her flaws, they would love her whole—Unknown.

  Location: Russia

  Nothing marked the greatness of a ruler more than the castle he lived in. That’s why the Winter Palace was built on a monumental scale, for it was a kingdom for emperors.

  If history has taught us anything, it is that even the mightiest empires will fall.

  While headquarters were in Moscow, the official lair for the Sekt was actually very far away. To house one of the largest criminal organizations that threatened the world, you needed to practically be in hell to remain invisible. During World War I, there had been talk about building an airstrip in the Republic of Sakha, but the war had ended before plans were put in motion. When World War II came along, even though Russia’s greatest empire had fallen, they went ahead. They built an airstrip near the city of Oymyakon.

  Due to its subarctic climate, less than nine hundred people inhabited the small town. It was long winters and short summers. You see, the airstrip wasn’t the only thing they built. Far away from civilization, they had built a castle that housed one of Russia’s greatest mysteries.

  I looked out the window and saw that another jet was approaching. I guess the ride wouldn’t be solo anymore. It was time to meet all the snakes that wanted to see me drown. Even though it was October, the temperature was already in the single digits. By the time our month together was up, the thermometer would be in the negative digits. Getting up, I put on my arctic jacket, then my gloves that were lined with fur, and lastly, a wool Balaklava so my cheeks wouldn’t get burned.

  I wondered if Bastian was already here. On my trip, I realized that although I wanted to see him, it was the information I wanted the most. I wanted to know if—fuck, I couldn’t even bring myself to say his name because it caused me pain. But I wanted to know if he was amongst the dead.

  With my luggage in one hand, I made my way down the stairs, looking at the beautiful landscape on the horizon. Even though this place held many horrors, I couldn’t deny the beauty of it.

  As I made my way down, the wind
s from the motor blew toward my face, causing me to squint my eyes. I looked ahead at the black jet and saw it was the Sekt’s jet, and most likely, Damian and whoever he had brought on the ride with him. When I saw a bitch in pink gear peek her head out, I rolled my eyes.

  My patience was thin, and if she said something to me, I would kill her. Instead of waiting for them, I walked to where five people were standing. By them was a line of military-grade snowmobiles that the locals kept for us. We provided for them, and in return, they had kept our secret for more than a hundred years.

  Then I saw him, and my foot halted.

  He was standing next to two other operatives, one who was already on a snowmobile with his helmet on. Bas stood with his mask rolled on to his forehead, his ears red due to the cold.

  He was fine, and he couldn’t have been bothered to tell me in a lengthy discussion how it all had gone down. I was beyond annoyed—I was hurt.

  I kept walking, prepared to pass them without a glance, but then other operative spoke. He just had his mask on, no helmet, so I couldn’t be sure who it was.

  “Come on, D, I’ll give you a ride,” he said, patting his dick. The man who was on the snowmobile turned his head to look at the one who thought he was being funny, his hands gripping the handlebars.

  “Why don’t you take the helmet off, that way I can see the face of whom I’ll kill before the month is over?” I spat at him. Ever since I killed Johnny, people had been wary of me. Well, at the fact that Damian hadn’t killed me for violating a law.

  “One day, you won’t be so untouchable, you know?” he threatened me before he walked away.

  Yeah, well, I was ready to face that day whenever it came.

  The guy on the snowmobile kept looking at me.

  “Is there something funny?”

  I couldn’t make out a face or anything through the tinted glass on the black helmet. The agent patted the back of his bike.

  “I don’t ride bitch.” I told him as I started to walk away.

  “How’s that back?” Bas mocked as I was passing him.

  Swinging my fist, I hit him in the stomach, making him bend a bit at where I had punched. It was all about the location. Not in the middle but a little to the side where there was less muscle. I took two more steps forward, and then with the back of my elbow, I hit his back while putting my foot out to trip him.

  He fell to the ground. When I looked up, Francesca and Damian were by us. It was all an act; that’s why he had said what he did. Without giving any of them another second of my attention, I went to the last snowmobile in the row. I put my luggage on the back, strapping it to the seat. Taking a helmet, I put it on. The ride to the castle was about an hour ride on the snowmobile. There was no GPS, and it was dangerous if you went at night. The only way to get there was to use a compass. Turning my snowmobile on, I felt the engine purr to life between my legs.

  This place was my home. I was born here, and I’d learned how to fight and survive here. I didn’t need to wait for anyone. With that thought in mind, I took off driving.

  Wildlife fled with the roar of the motor. Wolves and bears roamed these parts since it was far from civilization. Following the guidance of the compass, I let it lead me back home.

  When I made it to the bottom of the corridor, I took a left turn, going toward the dining room, knowing that’s where my parents had our visitor. It was rare when civilians were allowed into the castle. This was our sanctum sanctorum. The structure might as well be considered holy.

  My father’s smooth baritone voice echoed along the walls.

  “Once you sign the contract, you are ensuring your loyalty to Sekten. And in return as collateral, I give you my daughter.”

  I came to a dead stop. My heart thumped around my chest hard enough to almost make the walls around me tremble. If he was telling this man this information, it meant he had given him more information than he had provided everyone else.

  Sometimes I wished my babushka were here. She would have words of guidance, but she’d just disappeared. I knew what that meant, and I knew she was gone, but there was still that little kernel of hope that maybe she had been able to run away, even if she had to leave me behind.

  “My child, you have a heart of stone surrounded by barbed wire. I pity the man who falls for your cruel smile. For he will have to bathe in blood, sleep in ashes, and learn that you won’t ever need him, but should you want him, then he will have gained a whole empire. Remember, my darling, you are Sekten. You do not bow to any man. You do not yield to kingdoms, and you do not swear alliance to any nation. When I am gone, know that you were the thing I loved most.”

  Her words still haunted me from time to time, especially the older I got. At eighteen, we were set free to infiltrate the world, so my freedom would come in two more years.

  Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. We were all monsters in this kingdom, and I had to prove to them that I was the worst of them all.

  Sitting at the head of the table was my father, and at the other end was a man I had never seen. He was older than me—they always were. He looked about thirty with robust features that wouldn’t be considered handsome.

  “Where are your manners, girl?” my father scolded me.

  Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. I turned to the man and smiled at him and curtsied. “At your service, sir.”

  He cocked his head, and I saw the gleam in his eyes. “She’s perfect,” he uttered, and my father beamed.

  “This is Yorovich Morozov,” my father said, and my blood ran cold. He had killed his own father to become the leader of the Bratva, and I was now his.

  When I made it up past the clearing of the forest, I saw the cobblestone castle. The Summer Palace stood at the bottom of the hill. I knew that all around were agents with snipers ready to shoot anyone who got close to our guarded secret.

  When plans to build this place had come into motion, it was to be used as a safe house for the royal family. When the second war started, so soon after the first one, they went and gave the go-ahead to save the most influential families. By then, Sekten spies had already infiltrated the Soviet Union, and they’d killed everyone to protect this secret and make it their own.

  When I made it to the bottom, I parked the snowmobile, took off my helmet and my mask, and I ran. I ran toward the monument in the back where the frozen pond and gazebo stood. Once there, I held on to the wooden rails with tears threatening to fall. It felt like I was at square one again. This was where I stood when I found out about my grandmother’s disappearance, then when I found out about her bones. And now I had sacrificed the only man who came even close to getting inside. I pulled out a knife from the pocket of my jacket and removed my glove, revealing the scar where Gideon had forced us to make a pact.

  Gritting my teeth against the pain, I cut, feeling the cold wind sharp against my warm wound like icicles stabbing at it. Once I had reopened the old wound, I made a fist, letting the blood drip into this patch of snow once more. Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I let them because I was getting tired of being strong all the time. Perhaps it was stupid of me to let my guard down here of all places, but right now, I didn’t care.

  In this spot, I vowed to bring down this place, and now with the blood of Gideon on my hands, I reminded myself of that vow.

  Just as I was putting my hand back in my glove, I heard some shuffling. When I turned around, I saw no one but had a feeling I was being watched. In this place, I always was.

  Wiping my tears, I walked away.

  She was crying.

  It meant something.

  It changed everything.

  Yet nothing at all.

  The palace was old, built in one of the most remote places. The twenty-first century and medieval times coexisted here. Most of the castle ran on solar energy, but during winter, it went dark for almost a month, leaving us in the dark ages. That’s why security cameras were nearly impossible to have in here, but that didn’t really matter when both Damian and I had
a few spies.

  My chambers were located in the catacombs away from prying eyes. Since the temperature was much cooler down there, I was usually left alone. On the outside, it may have been cobblestone, looking like something out of King Arthur’s time, but on the inside, it was another story.

  It was extravagant, a palace fit for a king. Some of the wonders of the world were housed under this roof. Ignoring the people, I made my way down.

  Some of the older operatives lived here permanently, used to the confines of these walls. The scholars had their wing here for their studies and research. Through the years, we’d done the best to get technology here. It usually ended with having to eliminate all the workers after they’d finished working here.

  Wood was already burning in my room when I made it inside. Throwing my luggage to the side, I made my way over to the bathroom. I grabbed my first aid kit and fixed my hand. After that, I poured water on my face.

  Something had felt off within me since leaving Colombia, and it wasn’t until this very moment that I realized I had been grieving all along. My face looked paler than usual, my eyes lifeless. Slowly but surely, I was dying on the inside.

  Putting on a pair of fleece leggings and a fleece long-sleeve, I made my way to the dinner where a feast would be held to welcome us back home. Damian would give a speech, and then tomorrow, all the mind games would begin.

  While people talked and even joked around, I went to the last table. As usual, I ate alone. Being alone never bothered me. I would rather be on my own than surrounded by people who wished to cause me harm. There was something so peaceful about loneliness, even if, at times, it was heartbreaking.

  From across the room, I saw Damian walking in, talking to Bastian. His eyes searched everywhere until they met mine. He put a hand inside the pocket of his pants and smirked at me. My eyes cut to Bastian, aware that something was happening, and I didn’t know what. I loathed being blindsided. Ignoring them, I bent my head to cut into my food when I inhaled a smell so familiar, I almost lost my hold on gravity and fell face-first into the table.