Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

She jumped as Konstantin came up behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. “No,” he replied, low with compulsion, sending a shudder through Celeste’s body as the urge to immediately obey wrapped around her, as seductive as a warm bed after a long, exhausting day. “You won’t. That wasn’t our agreement, was it, Princess?”

  She felt her lips part on an agreement but pressed them shut, fighting it. But she couldn’t fight the lure too badly, or he’d realise she was immune. Partly immune, if the need to obey him was anything to go by. The resistance charm wasn’t as ironclad as she’d been led to believe.

  “You never ... specified when,” she said breathlessly, every part of her aware of him behind her, powerful and deadly. He could snuff her out in a second. “You said I had to follow you to your office and ... take your cock. But you never said when.”

  Konstantin was quiet for a moment, and then his deep, rolling chuckle made her jump. “True, Princess, true. Tomorrow, then.”

  Celeste wouldn’t be here tomorrow if she had anything to say about it. Sneaking in here, pretending to be a siren ... how stupid could she have been? Had she completely forgotten the stories of what these creatures were capable of? “Okay,” she breathed.

  There was a smile in Konstantin’s voice when he said, “Stay here. I’ll go get someone to take you to your room. And I’ll make sure it’s close to mine.”

  Celeste shuddered at the brush of his lips on the back of her neck, cold spilling through her. She stayed facing the bookshelf until the door clicked behind him and then exhaled all the air in her lungs, scanning the room to make sure she really was alone.

  What she should do now was make a break for it. But it was safer to run when the sirens were all in bed. Instead, she waited a few seconds to make sure Konstantin was really gone, drew a long, steadying breath, and began to look around the room.

  His study was wall to wall with books, most of them bound in maroon and green leather, but Celeste’s attention went to the Mac on the big, wooden desk. She kept a close eye on the door as she circled the desk and gave the computer mouse a nudge, waking the screen.

  It was password locked. Of course it was.

  With a groan of frustration, and the sinking realisation that if she was truly committed to bringing these sirens to justice she’d need to stay, Celeste lowered herself back into the chair by the fire, her shoulders hunched.

  She kept scanning the room, looking for places they might keep a record of their fucked up crimes, maybe even photos of the humans they’d broken, until the moment the door clicked open again and Konstantin entered, followed by a mixed race woman around Celeste’s age with long, black hair and a deep blue evening gown. She was beautiful, the sort of effortless, zero make-up beauty that made Celeste feel frumpy.

  “Aloisia, this is Skye Levesque, my best friend’s sister.”

  Skye snorted, coming over to give Celeste a quick, perfunctory hug. “And his friend, too, not that grumpy ass over there will ever admit it,” she said, and then her eyes narrowed as she fully looked at Celeste.

  Celeste blinked, surprised by the lack of respect in Skye’s voice and baffled by the way Konstantin allowed it.

  “I endure you,” Konstantin drawled, holding the door open. “Don’t get deluded about any friendship. Princess, Skye’s going to take you to your room.”

  “And I’ll keep the snakes away from you,” Skye added, bumping Celeste’s shoulder with a wry grin. “Everyone wants to know why you’ve been gone all this time.” Konstantin rumbled a low sound of warning and Skye lifted her hands with a roll of her eyes. “Not me, obviously. Even though it’s a valid question, and you’re a complete stranger who’ll be staying in the family’s personal guest rooms. Who knows where you’ve been, who you’ve been friends with.” Celeste’s chest cinched tight at the narrowed look Skye turned on her, unable to figure out the expression on the siren’s face.

  “Kaius was a stranger who stayed in our personal guest rooms if you care to remember,” Konstantin said.

  “Just saying.” Skye shrugged. “She could be an axe murderer for all we know.”

  “I’ll set an extra guard on our axes,” Konstantin replied, a smirk curling his flat mouth.

  “Oh, ha ha.” Skye locked her elbow with Celeste’s, towing her towards the door.

  “Um,” Celeste said, allowing herself to be guided only because she was confused. The woman had to be a siren, but she didn’t seem as dangerous or powerful as Konstantin. And yet there was a familiarity between them, an ease. “What’s going on here? Why are you dragging me off?”

  Celeste looked at Konstantin, even though the words were for Skye.

  “You can trust her,” he said, holding her gaze with his calm black eyes. “She’s safe.”

  He thought she was still scared. Celeste didn’t want to stay with him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be carted off by a stranger, either. And they’d mentioned Kaius—couldn’t she be shown to her room by him? At least he hadn’t been threatening or confusing when he’d introduced himself in the ballroom. And he’d tried to take care of her by making her a cup of tea. It was sweet if she allowed herself to really think about it. Sweet for a siren, at least. She had to keep reminding herself they thought she was one of them. How much worse would it get if they realised she was an impostor?

  “I’ll come get you in the morning,” Konstantin said as Skye towed Celeste out of his office. “Remember our agreement, Princess.”

  Celeste baulked. “In the morning?”

  He smirked. “Bright and early, Aloisia.”

  Celeste swallowed. “Right.”

  She looked to Skye for mercy but the woman didn’t intervene, only gave her a sympathetic look; it became dark with warning when she turned her attention to Konstantin. “You’d better learn from your mistakes, Your Highness. I won’t let you repeat them.”

  Konstantin’s expression turned stony. “This won’t be like Orla.”

  Celeste stiffened.

  Orla, as in Orla Downey? The brain dead woman in the room beside Kimber’s at Brighter Days? The name couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Shit. Konstantin had done that? Orla wasn’t even rambling and blank-eyed like Kimber and most of the others; she was bedridden, barely conscious. Barely alive, only basic functions.

  Celeste shut down her expression, but her heart raced with pure panic. Thank god sirens didn’t have advanced hearing, or they’d hear her frantic pulse.

  “I know,” Skye replied, her eyes narrowed and expression hard. “I won’t let it be. Come on, Aloisia, I’ll show you where your room is.”

  Celeste was too afraid and stunned this time to even hesitate as Skye guided her out into the corridor. Opulent halls of gilt and seafoam silk wallpaper blurred past, and it took Celeste a moment to realise Skye was watching her. And that Celeste looked too uneasy at the mention of Orla for a woman who was supposed to have been out of the loop for years.

  “Who’s Orla?” she asked, daring a look at the beautiful siren. “What happened last time?”

  Skye’s jaw clenched, but she watched Celeste like she was a puzzle she was trying to solve. “Konstantin and the others, my brother included, like to play games. They like to use people. One time, they went too far.”

  And all the other times—all the other patients in Brighter Days? Those weren’t going too far? Anger flickered across Celeste’s face and she was too slow to hide it.

  “I won’t let that happen to you,” Skye said quickly, squeezing her arm. “The guys are fucked up, entitled assholes but they’re not bad people. Not when you get to know them.”

  “Who says I’ll get to know them?” Celeste asked.

  Skye gave her a measuring look, her expression inscrutable as she pulled open a heavy ornate door, letting it fall closed behind them. A row of chandeliers lined a wide, airy corridor lit by braziers of gold flame and moonlight sifting through the windows. “I’d rather you didn’t get to know them. For one, you could be anyone; we don’t know we can trust you.
Or why you’re here.” For a second as Skye looked at her, Celeste could have sworn she knew her secret. But then the moment passed and Skye sighed. “But for another ... what happened with Orla was bad. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else.”

  Skye’s voice was twisted enough that Celeste hesitantly asked, “She was your friend, wasn’t she?”

  “Yep,” Skye replied shortly. “And she’s practically dead now. But that’s never going to happen again.”

  “Does it happen a lot?” Celeste asked, letting her fear show so the question didn’t seem too prying. “Do the people who come here leave practically dead often?”

  Skye winced at the question, and then swore at the sight of a trio of beautiful women in ballgowns and tiaras coming towards them. She tightened her grip on Celeste’s arm and tugged her right, the two of them ducking into an empty, darkened bedroom.

  “I don’t think she saw us,” Skye whispered, panting. Her hand shook on Celeste’s arm before she let go.

  “Who was that?” Celeste breathed, her heart pounding. Another killer of humans, another shatterer of minds?

  “Amirah Loth.” Skye’s reply was tight, terse. “Shh, they’re coming closer.”

  Celeste fell silent, breathing fast as footsteps neared their door, but the women didn’t pause; they continued on, and Skye let out a long breath of relief.

  “Amirah’s the worst siren in this palace,” Skye explained quietly, blinding light coming on as she found the switch on the wall. Celeste recoiled, blinking to regain her vision, and when she did, Skye’s light brown skin was ashen. She was quite obviously terrified of Amirah. “She breaks people for fun.”

  “Like Konstantin?” Celeste asked, watching the woman.

  “No.” Skye shook her head, running her hands down the creases in her silk skirt. “No, she’s worse. So much worse than Kon. He ... what happened to Orla was an accident, he didn’t realise how deep the compulsion had gone, didn’t realise she was siren marked. But Amirah does it on purpose, just for the hell of it.”

  “Siren marked?” Celeste asked, her heart beating faster. Had it already happened to her, whatever it was?

  Skye gave her a tight smile. “You don’t have to worry, it can only happen with a human.”

  That was reassuring. And Celeste couldn’t exactly press for answers, or she’d have to admit why she was so unnerved by the idea.

  “Kon would never do it again, and not on purpose, don’t worry,” Skye said, squeezing Celeste’s shoulder.

  Kon, she noted. “Are you and him together?”

  Skye snorted, some colour coming back to her face and her eyes dancing with mirth. “You’ve gotta be kidding. No. It’d be like sleeping with my brother. But Amirah ... she and Konstantin were engaged. For years—an arranged marriage kinda thing, for power and status. But Kon broke it off last year.” She shrugged. “Amirah and he finally slept together, and he said she wasn’t what he was looking for in a queen. Too eager to please.”

  Celeste swallowed. “And this woman who’s worse than the prince, who used to be engaged to him ... what does she do to his ... playthings?” There was no use trying to find a prettier word. It was what it was.

  Skye’s mouth flattened. “Nothing good.”

  “Perfect,” Celeste muttered.

  Another reason to leave as soon as the lights in this place shut off and everyone went to bed.

  “I’ll back you up,” Skye offered, but Celeste snorted.

  “You’re terrified of Amirah. You ducked into a random room just so you wouldn’t pass her in the hall. Are you really going to disagree with anything she says? Are you really going to stand up to her?” Celeste’s expression was highly dubious.

  Skye shrugged. “I’ve got the guys’ protection. She wouldn’t do anything really bad. Just make my life a complete misery, nightmare, living hell, all those cliches. So it’s no big deal.” A wry smirk crossed her face, but it faded as something else crossed her expression. Celeste couldn’t figure out what it was—unease, suspicion, concern? Maybe it was just lingering fear from her near-encounter with Amirah.

  “I think I’d like to go to my room now,” Celeste said, her body tense enough to break.

  Not only was she being singled out by the most powerful prince of Sirendale, but his ex-fiancee would be out for blood too. Celeste had no choice. She had to leave this place.

  Sorry, Kimber, she thought. But it’s impossible. There’s no way to bring them to justice.

  “There are locks on your door,” Skye said as she led Celeste down the hallway again. “From the inside. Just in case.”

  Well, that was comforting.

  The Great Escape

  Like the rest of the palace, Celeste’s room was beautiful. The seafoam green, white, and gold colour scheme continued from the rest of the palace, echoed in the carpet, curtains, bedsheets, and copious pillows. A dressing table and wardrobes hugged one wall, a bed was raised on a circular platform to her right, and bay windows jutted out from directly across from her, overlooking a labyrinth of jewel green hedges and the dark, sparkling expanse of Lake Windermere.

  It was little more than a sheen of beauty and gold hiding corruption and violence. Celeste hated every bit of it.

  From the padded seat in a bay window, Celeste could glimpse a pale wing of the palace, and for hours after Skye left her, she sat there, her head against the cold, rain-splattered glass, waiting for the warm glow of lights to go out in the castle and the Valentine’s Day festivities to end. Once it was entirely dark, around three a.m., Celeste got up, rifled through her backpack for her essentials—carrying a big bag around would clue in anyone she ran into that she was escaping—and stuffed her phone, purse, and knife into the pockets of the jeans she’d pulled on, swapping her ballgown for a stretchy black vest and denim jacket.

  She sent a text to Benji, updating him on her plan, waited for his reply, then silenced her phone. And then with her heart beating rapidly, she crept over to the door, opened it a crack, and peered out.

  Clear.

  Celeste took a deep breath, steadied herself—as much as she could when she was terrified she’d be caught—and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind herself.

  Her heart roaring loud in her ears, Celeste crept down the corridor—but she looked guilty, so with a deep breath for composure, she threw her shoulders back and walked confidently. She was Aloisia White. She was a princess. She had every right to be here and go wherever she wanted.

  She got down the first hallway safely, hopefully far enough from Konstantin’s room to be out of danger—he’d mentioned her room would be near his, so the initial steps had been petrifying—but when she rounded the corner, she came face to face with two men walking close together. It wasn’t Konstantin or Kaius but still, a sense of danger and compulsion slammed into her and she shuddered. Definitely sirens, and judging by their power, she’d guess at high sirens.

  Their attention snapped right to her as she stopped automatically, on the verge of turning and fleeing back down the corridor.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” one of them said with a grin. He was tall and slim at the waist, but with immense arms and shoulders that told Celeste she had no hope of winning a fight against him. Blonde hair was pulled into a topknot on his head, exposing the handsome planes of his face, the slight stubble on his jaw, and his glittering deep navy eyes. His expression was full of delight and mischief, not malice, but he could still easily shatter Celeste’s mind until all she cared about was obeying him.

  The other man ... tall, whipcord thin, his hair shaved close to his skull, his hands in fists, and his light brown face set in a dark scowl beneath heavy brows. Definitely not someone she wanted to cross.

  She tried to sidestep them, but the grinning blonde moved into her path and caught her arm.

  “No need to run away. Princess Aloisia White, I take it?”

  Celeste’s chest tightened. “Let go of me.”

  “Oh, you don’t want me to do that, gorgeous,” h
e replied easily, but with enough compulsion in the words that Celeste’s eyes flew wide.

  “Not tonight, Reyner,” the intense man muttered, leaning against the wall beside them and watching as the blonde—Reyner—smiled at Celeste, utterly focussed on her. She tried to look away, she really did, but even with the resistance charm, there was something magnetic about him.

  “Spoilsport,” Reyner replied, rolling his eyes at the other man. “Gorgeous, this is Jay. As you may have noticed, he’s a total killjoy.”

  Celeste swallowed and tried to dislodge his hand from her arm, but Reyner grinned wider, his grip firmer, and said, “You’re going to come with us.”

  Jay sighed loudly.

  “We don’t have to use her.” Reyner smirked. “But it seems a shame to let a beautiful woman roam the halls all on her own. Don’t you think, Aloisia?”

  Celeste swallowed, a tremor moving through her.

  “The poor thing’s terrified,” Reyner said, cupping Celeste’s face, his deep blue eyes glowing with excitement. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you.”

  She could feel his lure pressing against her, commanding her to not worry, to believe him. Unlike Konstantin’s compulsion, which felt like cushioned silk, this felt like needles pricking up and down her arms. How could she escape? If she tore from Reyner’s grip, she’d expose her immunity. And—even worse than earlier with Konstantin—there were two of them.

  “Oh, fine,” Jay muttered, and pushed off the wall, stalking down the corridor. “She can sleep in our bed, but I don’t feel like pussy tonight.”

  Reyner shrugged, caressing Celeste’s bottom lip with his thumb while she froze in horror. “Doesn’t mean you can’t watch while I sample her delights.”

  Celeste wrenched back, full motor function returning at once in a blaze of anger. “You’re not sampling anything,” she said breathlessly. “I’m ... I’m going back to my room.”

  There was no way out of the palace, at least not tonight. She’d have to try again tomorrow night. Which meant enduring twenty four hours in this palace. With Konstantin, who expected her to take his cock in the morning, Amirah Loth who’d likely want to draw blood for being unfortunate enough to catch the prince’s eye, and the rest of the court who were desperate for any hint about how she’d spent the past ten years.