by C. Lymari
I held on to Gideon’s biceps while angry tears fell. He let me, not interrupting me and letting me get it out of my chest. “I think my grandmother knew that she would die. She came to my room the night before, she told me she loved me, and…and I couldn’t say it back.” I cried. “She said I was the best thing that ever happened to her. We aren’t shown love at the Sekt. Empathy, everything that makes you human, is a weakness that gets beaten out of you… She said she didn’t know what pure love was until she helped raise me…” I stopped talking because I wanted to sob, but I held it together. I could not allow myself to break down completely.
“My babushka didn’t love the man who helped her father a child. It was just a means to an end to keep the line going. My mother… she was difficult—evil. For her, the sun set and rose with my father; he could do no wrong in her eyes. I think she latched to the first thing that showed her affection other than my babushka.”
“You’re lucky to have her memory. I don’t even remember my parents.” Gideon kissed the top of my head.
I allowed myself a weakness and wrapped my arms around him.
“Someone left me a note and when I got to the coordinates, I dug. When I found the bones I just knew.”
Gideon hugged me tighter. He turned me around, his hand coming to my chest, and we just watched the way the waves violently clashed in the sand, yet there was something so beautiful about it. Two different things that coexisted in violent harmony but could never be together.
“She is the one that named me,” I found myself sharing. “She named me after her mother. I think my mother resented me for that.” It sounded silly, but it was true.
“Is this where you tell me your name?”
I looked up at him and found him smiling at me. I could see the moonlight reflected in his amber eyes. I didn’t think I’d ever seen such a beautiful sight.
“Nice try, handsome.”
Just like that, his eyes went dark. It always fascinated me how his emotions came and went. A little after Chicago, I hacked the file MI6 had on him. They had him labeled as a psychopath with obsessive tendencies. He could mirror any emotion and make you believe he really cared. This was why he was one of their best because he was obsessed with winning, and he did whatever it took to get the job done.
I wasn’t his job, but an obsession.
For tonight that was okay. We were incapable of love. He had jobs to fulfill to feel complete, and it was time I wore the cruel crown I had inherited.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, then pulled away. I turned around and watched as Gideon gauged me, trying to figure me out. He never would until he knew the full truth. Only then would he fully understand.
“I know it is not fair for me to ask this of you—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Gideon pulled me forward by gripping my neck, and he attacked my mouth.
We went at each other like monsters in the dark. He fucked the weakness out of me, and I fueled his obsession with me. We fucked with our clothes on—the intimacy of what I shared was already more than enough. I think he knew I couldn’t handle more. We went at it until a bit before dawn broke. When he fell asleep, I kissed his cheek and walked away.
I had a plane to catch.
Whoever sent me my babushka’s remains wanted to appease me, keep me calm, but the only thing it did was fuel me.
I needed to get home because it was time to wage war.
Present
We could defy time, but we could never defy death.
There has always been something so fascinating about tragic love stories. Two jagged edges trying to make fit, despite the wounds, the stabbing, and bruising. In moments at a time, I fell in love with a man I could never have. He put all his energy into me, and I didn’t have any left to give to him.
Selfishly, I took everything he gave me and asked for more knowing I could never give him anything in return. I couldn’t bear any children; I wasn’t taught to love, and I couldn’t ask of him to wear the burden of my crown.
We fucked like beasts with no morals and no code. Through the darkness of his tent, we were monsters. I could pretend like he’d never lied to me, and he could deny that I would betray him. Pretty little lies fell from our lips. Poison lingered in our kiss. Empty promises was all we could ever be.
My body was spent, begging for me to stop, slow down, but I couldn’t. I fucked him harder and longer, taking everything he so willingly gave and tainting it with each orgasm. I should be half-asleep with the man lying next to me, but willpower had a way of keeping you up even when your body wanted to give up.
The delicious ache between my legs would serve as a reminder of my betrayal for the next few days. Then all that would be left was the hole in my chest. I’d been living with half a heart; living heartless shouldn’t be a problem.
I ran my hand over Gideon’s hair, aware that the sleeping toxin I had pinched him with would be wearing off soon. I had left the dart with the poison here earlier when I snuck it in. There was no way he wouldn’t have found it if I had brought it in with me. Gideon was crazy if he didn’t think I knew about my lighter; after our night in London, the damn thing went missing. He didn’t have to make a show of pulling it out to bait me. He was my prey the moment my eyes locked with his—since the first time I saw him.
My hand roamed over his handsome features as I committed them to memory: the prickly feel of his unshaven jaw, and his perfect bow lips. I was determined to memorize every part of him so when I was alone one step closer to my throne, I knew the price I had to pay to get my crown.
If I could have it any other way, he would be by my side, a trusted adversary—my king—but he was a pawn. The moment I grabbed his wrist, it felt like déjà vu. I cuffed them together, then brought them up to his head and stabbed them to the mattress with a long blade.
A fighting chance was all I was going to give him.
I fucking hoped it was more than enough.
As soon as he was secured, his eyes sprang open. The amber swirls were dark with lust. His head tipped back to where I had him bound, and when our eyes met again, his whiskey eyes were full of retribution.
Betrayal lingered in his gaze, and I forced myself to look at him, unwavering and unflinching. It had to be done, and I hoped he understood.
His chest heaved. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately. He was so angry he couldn’t even talk to me. I didn’t blame him.
“Petal.” His voice was soft but held a warning. He knew I was betraying him, yet he wanted to hear the deception coming from my lips.
“I’m sorry I have to bring her with me,” I whispered between gritted teeth, and his eyes flared. I cupped his cheeks and brought my face toward his. Tears streamed down my face as I kissed him. It was the kiss of death. With his lips, he told me how much he despised me while I tried to say I loved him. To say it aloud was suicide, but my heart was his. I kissed him with everything I had, all sharp edges, my tongue a deadly weapon.
This kiss was hope.
He tore at my lips, trying to inflict pain onto me, and I took it. Anything he wanted to give to me, I would always take it—the good, the bad, and the ugly. It didn’t matter—when your heart beat for someone else, it didn’t care if it was pain or pleasure as long as the person you loved was the one giving it to you. Our hearts took everything and learned how to synchronize the beat.
Tears slid from my eyes and landed on his hollowed cheeks. Then I heard it—the sound of an explosion to the west. My time had run out.
The camp erupted into chaos. The sounds of boots crunching, men yelling in Spanish, guns being cocked, more grenades explosions. Bas had succeeded in bringing our enemies to our camp.
“Don’t do this,” Gideon spat through gritted teeth.
I jumped off the bed, checking my weapons, ready to face the mayhem I had unleashed.
“They’re going to kill me for this,” Gideon growled as his wrists pulled against the restraints.
“I know.” The whisper was low enough that he didn�
�t hear how my heart was breaking. I didn’t turn to look at him anymore, for I feared that if I did, I would let him go, but then where would that leave me?
It was him, or it was the world.
Since I was little, I was taught that the sacrifice of one man was necessary for battle. They never told me that sacrificing the one you loved would be like tearing your beating heart out of your chest.
I was almost out of the tent when he spoke, words low but precise and full of hatred. He wasn’t talking to me like Gideon, the man I had always known. He was the lone wolf.
“You don’t care if they kill me?”
Tears streamed down my face, but he would never know how much this deception would kill me. To add salt to the wound, I took out a daphne flower from my cargo pants and threw it back, knowing it would land by the bed. I took another step forward when his next words halted me.
“I never felt anything until you came along. You better pray they fucking kill me because if they don’t, I’m going to kill you.”
Thank you so much for taking the time to read about Gideon and Daphne and submerging yourself into the Sekt world. My DM’s & email are open if anyone wants to slide and shout at me. Lol For the latest on Cruel Crown, you can join my reader group.
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Wow…this is such a surreal moment right now. I published my first book one year ago, but Daphne, Gideon and the Sekt world is why I had started writing in the first place.
These characters have been living inside my head for about five years now I am beyond excited to finally give them a voice.
Thank you to all the people I have met in this beautiful community that has kept me going despite the crazy times we live in. To my tribe, girls, thanks for keeping me going.
To my work wife, Becca Steele, I am beyond grateful to have met you. You are my soul sister. We get each other, it's scary, but I love it. You have faith in me when I don’t have faith in myself.
To Jenny Dicks, who is not only a fantastic beta but a wonderful friend so glad I forced you to read my books. Lol. You, Becca, and I are an unholy trinity, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Kat Lopez, I love you, and thank you for hearing my rumbles and always helping me ping pong ideas.
Sue & Mercedes, thank you so much for helping me make this baby shine.
To my Street team, girls, I have no words to thank you for all the help. You guys are the best, and I love you all. And my Coffee Shop babes you guys rock. I tell you all about my hot mess of a life, and you haven’t called me crazy yet.
I really want to thank my editor Sandra cause man was this wip rough, but she didn’t complain once. Lol
Cat, girl, you slayed these covers. I gave you my awful photoshop art, and you made beauty.
And to all my readers, you guys are the best for continuing to read what I put out. Love you all.
And lastly, to my family.
Don’t ever read this book, mom. Lol.
Claudia lives in the Chicagoland suburbs, and when she’s not busy chasing after her adorable little spawn, she’s fighting with the characters inside her head.
Claudia writes both sweet and dark romances that will give you all the feels. Her other talents include binge-watching shows on Netflix and eating all kinds of chips.
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