Savage Kingdom: A Dark Romance (Sekten Book 1)

by C. Lymari

  Savage Kingdom

  Sekten One

  C. Lymari

  Savage Kingdom Copyright © 2020 by C. Lymari. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  www.clymaribooks.com

  Editors: Sandra, One Love Editing

  Cover Design: Cat from TRC DESIGNS

  Proofreader: R. Dunnett

  Contents

  Also by C. Lymari

  Authors Note

  Playlist

  Foreword

  Sekten

  Preface

  1. Daphne

  2. Daphne

  3. Daphne

  4. Gideon

  5. Daphne

  6. Gideon

  7. Daphne

  Past

  8. Daphne

  9. Gideon

  10. Daphne

  11. Gideon

  12. Daphne

  13. Gideon

  14. Daphne

  15. Daphne

  16. Gideon

  17. Daphne

  18. Gideon

  19. Daphne

  20. Gideon

  21. Daphne

  22. Daphne

  23. Gideon

  Goodbye

  24. Gideon

  25. Gideon

  26. Daphne

  27. Daphne

  Present

  28. Daphne

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by C. Lymari

  It’s Not Home Without You Hoco #1 -Available Now

  (Second Chance/ Forbidden)

  The Way Back Home Hoco #2- Available Now

  (Friends-to-Lovers)

  You Were Always Home Hoco#3- Available Now

  (Enemies-to-Lovers/ Second Chances)

  For Three Seconds- Available Now

  (Forbidden/ Sports Romance)

  Falcon’s Prey- Available Now

  (A Dark Romance)

  Authors Note

  The Sekten Series is a dark romance series that needs to be read in order. It is intended for mature audiences since there is a lot of graphic content and situations that might make you uncomfortable, and it might not be suitable for you if you are easily triggered. Some books will be darker than others, but all are triggering none the less. This is a dark world, so read at your own discretion.

  This is a world of fiction, so I took a few minor liberties when it came to medicine and techy spy stuff, just like Hollywood does.

  Now that you’ve been warned, enter at your own risk.

  Love,

  Claudia.

  “Needy,” Ariana Grande

  “Yo Perreo Sola,” Bad Bunny

  “Safarea,” Bad Bunny

  “Serial Killer,” Elizabeth Grant (Lana Del Rey)

  “Hurricane,” Halsey

  “Renegade,” Niykee Heaton

  “Lullaby,” Niykee Heaton

  “NBK,” Niykee Heaton

  “Fucked My Way Up To The Top,” Lana Del Rey

  “Ride,” Lana Del Rey

  “D.R.E.A.M,” Miley Cyrus ft Ghostface Killah

  “The Wolf,” PHIDEL

  “Play With Fire,” Sam Tinnesz, Yacht money

  “Dusk Till Dawn,” ZAYN, Sia

  To my past self that even with a broken heart, she bled words of the Sekt into the pages of her journal.

  Foreword

  The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls — Edgar Allan Poe

  The Sect does not forgive.

  The Sect does not forget.

  Keeper of secrets and dealers of lies.

  We bow to no king, nations, or men.

  Crossing us is certain death.

  Preface

  Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a palace surrounded by snow.

  She dreamed of kings, princes, and knights, protectors that would slay her demons at night.

  She was young but bright; she was small yet brave, taught to fight enemies from a young age.

  She lived in secrecy and shadows, ready to right the wrongs of the world. Too bad for her that her enemies would not be coming by plane nor by boat, but were residing in her own home.

  Not even a girl, and she was defiled; not even a woman, and she was exiled. So she vowed to make them all pay.

  The little girl waited and grew her strength; she gathered forces and moved armies. She would get her revenge.

  She wasn’t going to stop until everyone who wronged her was dead.

  Empty spaces gave some people panic and made them realize just how lonely their lives were—not me. Empty spaces reminded me that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  My phone vibrated on the counter, and I knew who it was without having to look at it. Damian, the current head of the organization I worked for, and pain in my fucking ass. I looked at the message and sighed.

  Grabbing my phone, I dialed Bastian. I guess I could call him a protégé of mine in this new world since I’d raised him. “The meet has been set up. Meet me in Barranquilla.”

  There was no more need for pleasantries, and it wasn’t because of his lack of trying. Bas still sought warmness in others; it’s why he spent so much time between a woman’s legs in his off time. He needed to feel a connection, to feel loved, even if he didn’t know it yet.

  Getting up, I walked to my room and started to prepare for my flight out of Sweden. My bag carried weapons and a shitload of unaccounted-for money. Before I left the house, I walked to the spare room and looked at the broken person who resided there.

  “I will be gone for a few days. There’s food and water, the house will be under lockdown, and I will be monitoring, please don’t do anything stupid.”

  Closing the door to the room, I walked out, hoping that I didn’t come home to a dead body. Not everyone in the world was strong enough to handle the depths of hell. Sometimes you made it out to find out you were not living alone, and the person you had been was now gone, leaving behind an empty shell where your soul used to be.

  I had hope this was not the case for this pet.

  The warm summer breeze caressed my skin. It was almost comforting. The ocean was deep; although it was a thing of beauty, it was also deadly…like me.

  “You’re exquisite, love, but you already knew that. Too bad it’s just another weapon in your arsenal. So beautiful yet deadly.”

  The wind seemed to mock me, whispering in my ear words I didn’t wish to hear.

  “How are you holding up?” Bastian barged into my room with a small briefcase in tow. He had already showered, his hair slicked back, that three-piece suit, that cost as much as the view I was paying for, wrinkle-free. You can take the socialite out of the spotlight and teach it to live in hell, but the roots of his upbringing would never go away.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” I started strapping my weapons on—twin knives on the inside of my leather boots. A small survival bracelet at my wrist next to my coiled-snake saw bracelet. Two small Glocks—one in the front compartment of my leggings, the other in the back—and my small rose pendant that contained a deadly vial of T. Nothing too alarming—we didn’t want our host to get suspicious or anything. We were in Barranquilla today for a small gathering; depending on how things went, we moved things to the jungle.

  “It’s not like I’m scared they are on
to me or anything.”

  “Not funny. You die, I die with you. Your head and mine on neighboring spikes.”

  I rolled my eyes. Bastian was a drama queen, something no amount of torture managed to take away. I guess that was his tell that he was nervous. Mine…well, mine, I don’t think I even knew them. Being the devil’s pawn for so long, you get used to living in hell, and your stomach is a bottomless pit of despair.

  “Do people still use spikes?” I humored him.

  “Even worse, we’ll be in some unmarked cooler in the middle of the Siberian tundra,” he deadpanned.

  “You’re foolish if you think they’ll bury me anywhere near home. They’ll probably cut me up into tiny little—”

  “Okay, enough,” Bas shouted. “Do we have time for fun right now?”

  I stopped braiding my hair long enough to glare at Bastian. “Keep your dick on a leash.”

  “Just ’cause you’re allergic to some vitamin D doesn’t mean other women should have the same deficiency.”

  If looks could kill, Bas would be dead at my feet, but what good would that do me? It took years of training to mold him into my right hand, years of breaking the chains of his righteous pedigree upbringing. It took blood, sweat, tears, and lots of bone breaking to make him into the beast before me. Well, I broke everything but that pretty face of his…and his dick. He begged me not to break his dick.

  “So beautiful yet deadly.”

  It was rather easy to follow an angel into heaven than the devil into hell—too bad looks could be deceiving.

  “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late. You know how temperamental these men can get,” I said. I walked out of my room, leaving Bastian to lock up. If he wanted to have a key to my room, he might as well be of use.

  The sun was out full blast, the hot rays burning me through my gear. I hated warm locations. It was such an inconvenience to cover up just to hide all my weaponry. When I was at the last step, years of training was the only reason why I didn’t gape. Tall, slim, hair as dark as mine—there stood Damian.

  Damian was frowning, looking down at me from head to toe. “Why aren’t you dressed in something more appealing than your commando getup?” I guess he meant something like his. He was in a pair of Bermuda shorts, loafers, and a light white shirt.

  “You can tell them I’m your bodyguard.”

  “Speaking of guard dogs, where is yours?” Damian fell into step with me, his sunglasses blocking the sun’s glare. I didn’t wear them, especially not on a day like today. I didn’t need my eyesight hindered.

  “I’m right next to you, which you would have noticed if it weren’t for the glasses,” Bas said, coming from out of the shadows. A small smile passed between us.

  “Good thing I have the Sekt’s top two dogs,” Damian spat. There was no point in answering him. One day he would get what was coming. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and mine had been freezing for years. If I closed my eyes, I could still see droplets of blood in the snow.

  “Mis amigos.” Damian opened his arms in greeting at the men seated at the table. Casting my eyes over them, first I saw Sergio, the man who’d made this meeting possible, and standing behind him was Robinson or Lenguas as they called him, his right-hand man.

  Sitting next to Sergio was a man who’d recently taken over for the old Chihuahua cartel, Julian Rivera, and next to him was his son. Standing behind them was his son’s best friend, Chacal.

  And next to them was a man I hadn’t seen in a year. He wasn’t Hispanic like the rest of them, nor Russian like me; he was English. There was a cruel smile on his face, making those amber eyes light up with wicked delight. I didn’t have to turn to Bastian to know he was smirking at me. My eyes left Gideon’s as quickly as they landed on him, effectively dismissing him.

  “Hello, Petal. You can’t deign yourself to say hello?” he quipped with that smooth accent of his. “Or, can you only do that if I’m tied up?”

  The men at the table all looked at me, some with more interest than others. Sergio always looked at me like I was his next meal. Rivera was a piece of shit that thought women were better left in the kitchen, and his son looked like he wanted to give me a wild ride. With one quick look at Bas, he pulled out the chair in between Damian and Gideon.

  “You wouldn’t know what to do with me otherwise.” I threw a carefree smile, crossed my legs, and didn’t say a word as these men planned on how to take over the world. I caught sight of the intricate S tattooed on Damian’s forearm. The Sekten: an alliance, a shield, and a warning. A mockery of what it once was.

  “Por que tan calladita?” Why so quiet, Julian Jr. teased. I couldn’t let them know that while they discussed their biggest rivals, all I saw were potential allies. So, I smiled and gave them what they wanted.

  “With the Sekt at your back, no one will be able to touch you. Daran mas miedo que ni el mismo Diablo.” You’ll be feared more than the devil himself. All the men nodded in agreement; Damian didn’t even bother to look at me while I felt a slight touch on my knee. The reaction caused me to sit up straighter. I turned my head to glare at the man responsible, and he was already grinning at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, turning to the man who made my blood boil—Gideon. Rivera and Sergio—I knew they wanted to expand their cocaine empire, and we had the resources to bypass any government. Feared by all, bowed to none. But Gideon was a mercenary, a lethal one. One who was crazy enough to do the contracts no one else dared touch. They called him the lone wolf because he had no alliance. No mob, cartel, governments were watching his back. It was rare to survive in this world on your own.

  “I did a little job for Sergio; he asked me to stay.” Alas, Sergio wanted more manpower in this meeting. “Petal,” he murmured, and my skin broke out in hives. Gideon’s eyes went molten, and a seductive smile flashed from that pretty male mouth of his. “Why won’t you look at me? Is it because the last time we saw each other, those lovely thighs were wrapped— Fuck,” Gideon cursed.

  My little scalpel was lodged between his middle and index finger, the small clean-cut staining the white tablecloth red. Everyone was looking at us, a smile on most of their faces, probably thinking I was cute. Leaning into Gideon, I ignored the smell of his cologne. “Yes, handsome, it was just a fuck.”

  Bastian pulled out my chair for me so that I could get up. My hand was resting on the table for support…and then I heard the loud thud of sharp metal between my index and middle finger. I looked at the black dagger—my black dagger—that was now lodged between my fingers. Unlike me, Gideon didn’t pierce skin.

  “Did you not like my message?” Gideon mocked.

  “Los veo manana para irnos a la selva.” I’ll see you tomorrow so that we can go to the jungle. I ignored Gideon and walked away. Bastian kept a distance from me, appearing aloof like he was just my guard dog and I his master, when in reality, he was my crutch—he just didn’t know it.

  And he never would.

  That dagger was from early Imperial Russian, worth millions, and now it was missing the fucking rubies. I’d just left it behind because I couldn’t stand the English prick. I’d seen him from afar from an Estacado fight. I’d kept a reasonable distance as I watched Ren Falcon and tried to gauge what kind of man he was. As soon as he lost his job and went off the grid, I was sent to kill him. Damian was not happy with me, but what use could we have with the Ember diamond? Other than having another thing, no one else could. It was nothing for us. So I was punished by doing all the shit work, but I liked it better that way.

  “I need a favor,” I said as soon as we walked into a room and checked it for bugs.

  “You know my offer to give you a good dicking still stands.”

  I rolled my eyes at Bas. That was his thing—humor and sarcasm to cover up the fact that we were knee-deep in shit.

  “Come on, Gideon couldn’t have been that big…he’s not bigger than me, right?”

  “I need a meeting with Franco,” I told him.

 
; Bastian started coughing.

  “Estacado?” He gaped. “The man who they were just discussing was that Franco?”

  “Yes.” I opened the balcony doors that looked out at the ocean. “So beautiful yet deadly.” Gideon’s words rang louder than before.

  “Why?” Bas glared at me. What I was doing was reckless. To set foot in Italy to the king of the Estacados was suicide.

  I’d made a vow covered in snow and dripping in blood—that I would burn down the pillars in which our kingdom stood. Watch the ashes blow as I laid the foundation for something new—something better. I vowed I was going to make them all pay.

  The time had come.

  “It has begun,” I told him, knowing he would have no idea of what exactly I implied.

  “Yeah, I’m going to need you to explain it to me like I’m five.” Bas jumped on the bed and put his hands behind his head.

  He had no idea what I was talking about, but he was used to it and had learned to roll with my vagueness.

  “Because I need the Estacados and to get their support, I will need Franco. He’s the oldest of the three brothers; they have to follow his lead. Without them, I am nothing,” I said. “He controls Europe and half the US from Italy, and Ignacio has control over Canada, the Caribbean, all from New York. Giovanny controls the rest of the US, and Mexico, and Central America from Chicago. Having them as allies would give me a foot in this war.”