MOLLY’S STOMACH ached. Dizzy, nauseous, clammy palms. Too many bodies crowded in the ballroom, and she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Tensley. He was surrounded, like a new favorite toy. Men tried to win his respect, his favor, and he didn’t look pleased in the least.
She couldn’t erase the image of the blood streaming down his dark strands and onto his tanned cheeks. He had explained the image was to show his people he wasn’t afraid of pain, of torture, and also a mirror image to Fallen, to his loyalty to the crown and the court.
He didn’t even flinch. The entire time he was a statue of ease and grace and perfection. No flaws. When the blood rolled down onto his full, pink lips, his tongue licked at his redness.
A beast with no nerve endings, with no doubts, and no heart.
It should have terrified her, but what terrified her more was his oath.
Nothing was above the crown.
If Tensley had to choose, would he choose the crown over her? And their children? Molly resisted the urge to touch her stomach.
She knew rationally he would never do so, but the fear was still embedded deep inside her core.
Many of the members of Scorpios still stared at Molly from afar. Too afraid or not interested enough to speak to her.
“Your fiancé is the Dux of Scorpios,” a familiar voice said, and Molly turned to see Gabriella moving toward her, her forehead creased in concentration. One hand held her signature cold water with two lemons, and the other hand held the bottom of her extended belly. “Not many can say that.”
Molly forced a smile. “Hi, Gabriella.”
Gabriella glared at the groups of people and groaned. “Look at them. Trying to suck up to him because he’s the new Dux.” She tsked. “All these rich families are going to try to win him over so they think he will do their bidding. Have they met my brother? Asshole of the century.”
Molly followed her line of sight and saw Tensley amidst a group of men, his lips drawn downward in a scowl. As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his eyes and straightened.
Even after Paris, the desire, the lust for him wouldn’t vanish. When she touched him or was close to him, the burning sensation in the bottom of her stomach and lungs lessened. She didn’t understand what was happening to her.
Could she be addicted to the demon?
“Gabriella,” Evelyn Rose said, her red mouth bending into a small smile of respect, but when she set her attention to Molly, it fell into a dark, deep hole of hell. One look and Molly knew the woman wanted to choke her. “I thought only members of Scorpios were allowed during the ceremony. Not an outsider.”
Molly’s rage boiled in the depths of her stomach and her fingers ached to strike.
Gabriella’s voice was like whiplash. “Fuck off, Evelyn. Go have a pity party elsewhere.”
Evelyn’s poised hand of grace and leisure fell beside her. “Excuse me?” Molly felt the familiar sting of aggressive pheromones, but it wasn’t aimed at her.
It was aimed at Gabriella.
“You heard me. This is the future wife of our Dux you’re insulting. Many would deem that enough to be incriminated with treason to Scorpios. If you wish to live long enough to see tomorrow, I would advise you not to speak ill of people that are stronger, more powerful than you will ever be. Go away, Evelyn, no one cares what becomes of your sorry excuse of a life,” Gabriella snapped, her eyes pitch-black.
And just like that, Gabriella turned to face Molly, ignoring the raging demon beside them.
Evelyn stomped off, muttering curses as she went.
“Ugh.” Gabriella hissed and held her stomach.
Molly’s heart leapt. “Are you all right?”
Gabriella waved it off, but arched her back, groaning. “Just a contraction. That bitch gets on my nerves. This baby’s a day overdue.” Just as a waiter passed by with a tray, Gabriella snatched a thin flute of champagne and handed it to Molly. “Drink for me.”
Molly stared at the bubbles, her stomach twisting again, her salvia filling her mouth. “I think I’m okay tonight,” she muttered and placed it down on a table.
Gabriella’s stare burnt a hole in the side of her head. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
Molly shook her head, fighting down the thickness in her throat. Do not throw up now.
A silence fell over them, but a moment later, Gabriella spoke in a hushed voice. “Are you…?”
Molly’s head jerked up, stunned. “No, no…”
Gabriella stepped closer, touching her arm. “Do you want to sit down?”
The acid jumped in her throat, and she clasped her hand over her throat, begging to stay composed. Without another word, Molly dashed out of the ballroom, breathing through her nose.
She threw open the bathroom and fell to her knees in front of the toilet, everything inside escaping. She gripped the toilet’s rim for dear life, praying for it to end. She gasped, wiping her bottom lip with the back of her hand.
Then the door opened and she turned to see Tensley, resolve in the set of his full mouth, his thick brows bent in concern. “Are you all right?” his voice a raspy timbre of promise and destruction.
Her head spun, eyeing the man before her, so powerful and terrifying all at once. The man she had witnessed an hour ago wearing a crown of thorns without batting a lash.
He could break her with one hand alone.
The court, the crown, Scorpios came first. She was second to all of them. What would he do? What would he say?
And inside, Molly broke into tiny shards and with each slow, labored breath, the blunt edges sliced further into her beating heart.
Be strong, she told herself through a deep breath.
Molly stood, her heart going haywire as she turned to face the beast.
She licked her dry lips and braced herself, edging closer, her gown tracing the floor.
Even as she tried to speak, hotness pierced her eyes.
With an out of control heartbeat, one she knew he heard like his own in his eardrums, she spoke shakily, “Tensley.”
He tilted his head to the side, inspecting her, his brow straining in worry. “What’s wrong?”
She fought against the fullness in her throat, the lump expanding, and broke. “I think I’m pregnant.”
A FLAME of darkness erupted inside of him. Aggressive pheromones warred in his chest, aching to warn others to stay back as he was a beast to be challenged. That tightness in his chest squeezed painfully. The words struck deep, like a sharp edge slicing him wide open. Pregnant? No, no, that couldn’t be fucking possible.
What about the birth control? What about the times he used a condom? How did this happen?
If she were pregnant—fuck, no!
He hit his palm flat against the wall, the boom louder than he expected, the paintings of Italy’s countryside rattling. “Fuck!” His voice a guttural growl. He ran his hands through his hair, gripping the strands. “How the hell—”
“I don’t know,” Molly said fast, shaking her head violently. “I must have missed a pill—and we haven’t been using protection.”
He turned to face her, only for his anger to freeze at the sight of her trembling frame. Vivid bluest of blue eyes wet and bloodshot, lips wobbling, her cries muffled behind the back of her palm.
“Molly,” he said, watching her crumple before him. The fierce daemon, the lionhearted girl… He swore at himself and ran a hand down his face. “I’m not mad at you. I’m angry at myself and my world, and their fucked up ways.”
“Tensley, oh god,” she hiccuped, her cheeks flushed. “With the court, if they find out about this…” Her eyes squeezed shut on a sob and her hands rubbed at her cheeks, trying to erase any sign of weakness or vulnerability.
The sight before him was something so rare, so wrong in his culture, he couldn’t stop watching her. Somehow, the man who trained himself to be the monster craved the woman’s vulnerability.
His beast stirred, the idea of her pregnant with his child satisfying him.
He reined in the anger that warred in his blood and bones. As much as the beast craved the anger, craved destruction, chaos, and blood, he craved her more, and she needed him. If she was…he’d be the strength she needed.
He’d be the man she deserved.
“Molly,” he whispered, pulling her into his embrace and cupping her wet cheeks. She shook against him, leaning into his touch, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “We’re fine. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” He kissed her tensed temple, stroking her smooth hair down her back.
She sniffled. “Are you sure? If the court finds out, they’ll kill us. And you—”
He shushed her. “And you’re positive?”
She shook her head lazily against his chest, her fingers toying with his tie. “I have a pregnancy test in my purse.”
“Okay,” he said, grabbing her hand and turning to the door. “Let’s go. We’ll take the test at my apartment.”
“Go?” Molly tugged his hand back. “It’s your party.”
Tensley squared his jaw. “So?”
Molly’s pouty mouth dropped into a frown. “You just made an oath—to always put Scorpios, the court, and the crown above everything else. You can’t just—”
He moved fast, cupping her cheeks and gazing into her wide eyes. “Molly,” he breathed, so heavy, so light at the same time she gasped at the intensity of his hard voice. “No one—not even the High Court or Fallen himself, comes before you.” He lowered his voice to a chilling whisper of a threat, how dangerous, how destructive his words held.
A threat to the High Court—weighing his bride-to-be above the crown—was asking for blood.
His blood, her blood, maybe another’s…
His eyes fell to her stomach between them and he ached to touch her.
I’m betraying my court, my crown, by tying my loyalty to a goddess. Let Hell come.
“C’mon,” he said and wound his arm around her waist, exiting the washroom together, both needing the answer to their fears revealed. If it were true, he’d protect her and their child from any threat around.