Terrible odds, otherwise. Better to blow off raging mental energy than count every turn of the wheels, every inch that separated me from the enclave.
Fromhim.
I left without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t forget that. But then, being hated was easier than all the shit that came with being liked, wanted, and missed.
The stab wound in my side throbbed. Good. Pain was good. It reminded me why I’d thrown myself into death’s path and who I did it for.
Green eyes. Gorgeous smile.
Desperate, I yanked a cigarette from my dusty pocket. After jamming the thing into my mouth, I retrieved a slender vessel that produced a controlled flame when uncorked.
An orange glow filled the cramped space, illuminating the dirt caking my fingernails. As smoke charred my lungs, I imagined those organs turning as black as my morals. Leaning back, I sank my teeth into the reed and packed my lungs with more fumes than a chimney sweep, sucking like a glutton for punishment.
Fuck knew I hadn’t backed off from the Royal Son over the past month, but what could I say? Nicu of Autumn might be standout stunning, with a peaches-and-cream complexion I’d like to snack on. Even better, he wasn’t timid. That songbird’s tongue could put a serpent in its place, delivering the sort of verbal lashings I never knew I needed outside of a brothel.
And because I wasn’t the sort to keep my trap shut, I seized that opportunity like a stupid motherfucker. Because why not make another self-destructive mistake?
Never touched him. Not even close.
But I did have a fun time looking. And baiting. Pushing Nicu’s buttons guaranteed he’d push back. Hard.
Turned out, defiance was a sexy look on him. More than once, Nicu’s wise ass comebacks had given my cock an energy boost, my balls overheating like a pair of powder kegs. I’d fisted myself to that vision so often, it’s a marvel my dick hadn’t ended up in a cast. To say nothing of what it did to me whenever those faeish eyes gleamed with curiosity, shining like a reward for my rare civil behavior.
The look of a goddamn angel.
But angels never chose demons. And they didn’t bring them home to meet the parents.
Hell, if the Court Jester of Autumn knew the pornographic thoughts renting space in my head every time his precious son stood within bondage distance, I’d find myself at the top of the man’s hit list. Flattering, but not exactly tempting.
Nicu had become a dangerous exception. By extension, his family too. From the looks of them, every member of that clan would provide fatal backup if the wrong bastard came knocking.
Bastard being a choice word.
Must be nice, though. Having a family, people who cared.
Anyway, black sheep might be fine to fuck. And while I’d jump at the chance to become Nicu’s temporary side piece, he didn’t bend over like that. The songbird knew his worth. It didn’t take an anti-psychic like Aire to grasp Nicu’s type, which didn’t include felons who blew shit up for a living. Autumn’s virginal sweetheart deserved more than to shag a hot mess.
Much less one that had been spawned by a monster.
The cigarette flaked into ash. While Aire and Aspen were busy getting the sexual tension out of their systems, Nicu got me to admit things I shouldn’t have.
But he never found out my last secret. That would have made him a liability.
“You’ll definitely wear it better.”
I had delivered plenty of enticing lines to men. But that one, I’d meant.
He would wear a crown someday. He’d look hotter and smarter doing it than me.
All in all, I’d only expose my worst skeletons on my own terms. Once I had bloodline proof and enough chemical arsenal to detonate a king.
Shadows crept into the carriage, dark and chilling like the alpine fortress where I headed. Only one wanker knew the truth, knew where I came from, and knew how the fuck it happened.
King of Summer.
Murderer. Abuser.
Father.
