TENSLEY MARCHED through the grand halls, the clicks of his shoes a battle cry to the court. To Fallen. He was determined to leave the high court and protect his own kingdom.
Fucking Ares. Those fucking bastards.
If word got out he hadn’t been there, leaving Scorpios without a Dux, it would have been the perfect time to strike.
Exactly what they had done.
He fisted one hand, gnashing his teeth. His fucking kingdom was under attack, needed their leader, and where was he? In High Court, fucking kissing Fallen’s shoes.
The letter was from Mr. Rose. Signed and dated yesterday. The pit had been attacked, but they were able to hold Ares back. Now it meant war to Tensley. As the Dux, he needed to be back in Manhattan present.
The castle was still recovering from their wedding yesterday, maids cleaning up broken glass and court members dragging themselves back to bed after staying up all night.
He entered the throne room, a group of lords bickering back and forth, and Fallen seated on his high throne of gold and velvet, watching with his chin perched on his hand.
“Ah, the groom reappears,” Fallen said and sipped at his cup. “I would have sworn you’d stay trapped inside of your chamber longer than that, Dux.”
Tensley didn’t hide his look of displeasure. He didn’t have time to play along with the king’s games.
“My lord,” Tensley said, his voice hard and fierce, stepping closer to the throne. Fallen’s calm demeanor dropped, and his eyes narrowed. “I just received a letter from Scorpios from my second-hand. Ares has attacked Scorpios.”
Gasps echoed in the room, and Tensley watched as Fallen’s hand went to his cheek, stroking the fine hair there.
“Very unfortunate news,” Fallen spoke. “I will send them my regards.” And then he lifted his cup and went back to the papers held up by a servant next to him.
Tensley's nostrils flared, but he calmed himself with a deep breath. “My lord,” Tensley spoke again, stepping closer, his voice far stronger than before. “I am the Dux of Scorpios. Those are my men. I need to return to them. Now.”
Fallen looked over the top of his papers at Tensley, the entire room silent as their king examined the Dux and lord before him. His stare was bland, assessing him slowly.
“You wanted to be both a Dux and a lord of my court. Deal with the consequences, my boy,” Fallen said coolly, but a single flare of his eyes told Tensley he was enjoying this.
This deal—this bargain had caged Tensley, and Fallen was enjoying his anguish.
Tensley’s body locked under his tensing muscles and bones, and he battled his beast not to attack his king.
Fallen went back to looking at his papers, his head inclining slowly. “It is a pity, really,” he started, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps there won’t even be a Scorpios for you to return to,” he muttered, his lips twisting ever so slightly at the thought.
Tensley’s jaw clenched tight, and he rolled his shoulders. He couldn’t openly argue or disrespect the king’s final words. His word was law, and men and women had died going against him in public court.
Scorpios was his blood, his legacy, his father, and he was the Dux. It was his.
No one would stop him from leaving and going back to his own kingdom. Not Evelyn. Not Ares. And certainly not fucking Fallen, he swore decidedly.
He was leaving with or without the king’s approval.
But maybe, with coercion, one particular member of the court would help him. He was his only hope. The prince.
“Thank you, my lord,” Tensley said and bowed his head, backing away.
Under each court members’ watchful gaze, Tensley made sure to keep his features neutral and composed.
But inside, the beast was rattling its cage urgently.
Tensley knew the prince would be in the baths with his comrades, reminiscing of their drunken conquests the night before.
The sun was high in the sky, heating the top of his head as he walked to the bathhouse in the corner off from the armory. He marched down the concrete slabs to the bathhouses centered around a hot spring, rooms of different heat levels throughout. Each day, he saw the prince and his fellow members leave the baths late in the afternoon. Probably to regenerate after a wild night of drinking and sex.
As he expected, Tensley found the prince strolling out of the bathhouse, his hair wet, his skin soaked. The man was just doing up the buttons of his shirt, laughing at something one of the men with him had said.
At the sound of Tensley’s quick footfalls, the prince looked up, and his eyes narrowed. He could taste the anger rolling off him.
“Dux,” the prince greeted, wiping a bead of sweat from his upper lip. “How is your beautiful wife?”
“A word, my prince,” Tensley said lowly.
The prince’s smile dropped, and he moved away from the rest of the men to the shaded walkway, out of eyesight and earshot.
Tensley spun once he knew he was alone with the prince and folded his arms. “Scorpios has been attacked. I need to leave the court.”
“And the king has refused,” the prince added, a brow cocked. Tensley didn’t speak, only glared back at the prick. “And you believe I will help you.” The prince laughed, but the sound was dark and menacing. “You gave your word that you would bring me my father’s head,” he said lowly, the bite evident in his tone.
“I keep my word,” Tensley bit out. “I will return and bring you your father’s head on a silver platter. My word is sacred.”
“You are not leaving this court without honoring our bargain,” the prince snapped back. “And if you try, Fallen will make you regret disobeying him. And if for any reason, he doesn’t kill you, I’ll make sure you know what I do to people who betray me.”
The prince’s gaze was dark, almost black as he went to leave, but Tensley gripped his shoulder and shoved him against the brick wall, holding him down with his forearm pressed against his neck.
“You’re going to get us out,” Tensley hissed, digging his elbow deeper.
“Unless you wish to see your little wife open wide, and Fallen holding your dead baby’s carcass, you are not going to leave this fucking High Court, Knight,” the prince growled, his hand shooting out unexpectedly and griping Tensley’s throat. Returning the favor. “I. Want. Him. Dead,” he seethed. “I’m tired of waiting. I’ve done enough of that already.” The prince’s fingers tightened dangerously around Tensley’s throat, the pressure robbing his lungs of air. Tensley’s features stayed impassive, showing no reaction. Their faces were close, and Tensley could see inside the prince reigned a dark, trapped wolf, hungry for power and eager to roam and hunt freely.
Two trapped, raging beasts.
Two opposite goals.
Only one of them would get what they wanted.
Tensley’s chest tightened, and he breathed through his nose.
He growled in the prince’s face.
Tensley let go of the prince, and after a beat, the prince did the same. They were like two war chiefs staring at each other across a field, seconds before the massacre began. With a low exhale, Tensley walked away, barely restraining himself from killing the prince on the spot.
Fallen had forbidden him from leaving the court.
The prince had threatened to reveal the truth about the pregnancy if he did.
Tensley needed to find another way.
He needed to find someone who would be willing to go against the king.
MOLLY TOYED with her hair, tangled from sweat and Tensley’s expert hands.
She had folded and packed the little things that she had brought with them, ready for Tensley and her to leave.
She touched her collar, the heavy power wrapped around her neck. She was married. She was a wife, and she was going to be a mother. The collar gave her security, safety, and comfort when Tensley wasn’t around.
Her door opened, and she turned to see the last person she had expected walking into her bedroom unannounced.
Lilith, dressed in a violent red gown, waltzed into their chamber holding a tiny jewelry box.
“You’re simply glowing, my darling,” Lilith sang, walking over to her.
The smile on Lilith’s face sent Molly’s stomach into vicious knots.
She didn’t trust her. Never would.
“My lady,” Molly said, bowing her head in respect.
Lilith examined her features too long for Molly’s comfort, eyeing her black cloak and messy hair and her neck where her collar hummed and love bites claimed her skin.
“A wedding gift,” Lilith said, blinking back into her vibrant sunshine of smiles. She handed Molly the square golden jewelry box, a swan on top of it, its head bowed.
“That’s very generous, my lady.” Molly set the box down on the dresser and turned, only to see Lilith eyeing her small suitcase.
"Leaving so soon?" the queen said with an arched brow.
Molly gulped, her eyes growing wide as she looked at the suitcases.
“Good,” Lilith spat. Molly frowned as Lilith’s sharpened gaze snapped back to her, and her smile wasn’t as friendly as before. “I must congratulate you. Each time I tried to seize you, you slipped right through my fingers.”
Molly frowned, watching the queen stroll around the chamber. Her thin pointer finger slid across each surface, feeling the gold trim of the chairs or the sheer curtains on their canopy.
Molly stayed quiet, unsure what she was speaking of, and her throat tightened.
“When I first heard of the rare daemon girl, blessed with eyes of angels, so powerful, so naïve, I thought it was the perfect chance,” Lilith said softly, but her eyes held a deadly edge to them as they swept the room and back to Molly.
Lilith sat down in one of the upholstered chairs and crossed her legs, head tipped back.
“My stupid husband was too strict with his laws. ‘One mustn’t seek a marked or betrothed individual, for it shall be punishable by the king,’” she recited with a dark laugh, a chilling smile on her lips. “Being the queen has its perks, you know. I must obey the king’s laws, but I have fewer eyes on me at all times. No one would ever expect the king’s wife to go against his wish. And no one would expect the queen to try to overtake her own husband,” she continued, twisting a red curl around her thin, long fingers.
“I am driven by my thirst for power, Mrs. Knight. And as Queen, I am a very resourceful woman. When Pearce Saint failed to capture you, I took to my husband. I whispered into my dear king’s ear how lovely and exciting it would be to have a fresh little daemon in our court. As he always does, he ate every word right from my palm.” She propped her palm up and slowly drew her fingers in, staring at Molly with a cold glint.
“Then, you arrived,” she mused. “And your little demon was all over you. So protective and alert. He makes you a hard woman to approach, my dear. A good husband, that is sure. But I had to find a way to get to you. Then I covered you in my son’s scent for the hunt, hoping he would steal you away. The plan was to lock you up somewhere private and use you to overtake my husband. But, you little wench, you ruined my plan, scarred my son’s body with your claws and ran away into the arms of your beloved demon.”
Molly’s stomach dropped into a dark pit.
It was Lilith. It had all been Lilith.
Not Fallen. But his wife.
Lilith had been the one trying to capture her. She had sent Pearce after her.
“And then your eager little husband asked the king to marry you sooner, and my dumb husband accepted his request, crushing all my efforts with a few words. Even I could not get away with stealing someone’s wife. Unwed, I’m sure my husband wouldn’t have killed me. But now that you’re married, I have lost. And I do not deal very well with defeat. My son, the prince, deserved a daemon at his side. Not some highborn little demon with no real power in the court. If only my husband was not so chained to his bloody laws,” she bit out, and then her ugly scowl transformed into a terrifying grin. She stood, moved slowly toward Molly as if stalking prey.
Molly steeled herself.
The queen’s breath suddenly fawned against her ear, making Molly’s blood run cold. “You may bear powerful children, you may impress my court,” Lilith whispered, each word dripping with venom. “You may be the daemon, but never forget that I am the queen.”
Molly raised her head high, a slight glow to her eyes. “I am more powerful than you could ever aspire to be, Lilith.” She spat the name with disgust and disrespect. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you are my queen. You are nothing to me.”
Lilith’s teeth flashed, and a hiss left her lips, but the door slammed open.
Tensley walked in, his brow heavy with sweat and he glared at Lilith.
Lilith smiled politely, and moved away, her dress swishing back and forth. “Good day, Dux,” she said with false pleasantness. She walked to where Molly had placed the gift the queen had brought with her and snatched it away. “I shall take this back. Gifts must be earned, after all.” Then she left, and Molly let her shoulders sag.
Tensley’s confused gaze was on the door for a moment before he turned back toward Molly.
“Tensley,” Molly said, her hands shaking from Lilith’s confession. “It was never Fallen.”
Tensley walked over to her and gripped her shoulders, his eyes troubled with worry. “What do you mean ‘it was never Fallen’?”
She swallowed and blinked up at him, barely believing everything the queen had just dared to admit to her face. “Lilith was the one who sent Pearce to capture me. Not Fallen. Lilith was also the one to put the prince’s scent on me—all because she wanted me for her son. All of it, it was all her.”
Tensley’s features contorted into pure anger, and he hissed under his breath. He calmed himself, turning to see the packed suitcase. “We need to leave. Now.”
“Did Fallen agree?” Molly asked hopefully as Tensley gripped her elbow, moving toward the door without the suitcase.
“No, he refused,” he said darkly. “And so did the prince when I asked for his help. He wants his father dead and won’t allow us to leave until he’s holding his father’s freshly decapitated head.” He shook his head in frustration. “Fuck if I fucking care about these fuckers’ opinion. We’re leaving. I don’t care if I have to fucking burn down this palace.”
“But how? It’s not like we can just walk out of here, Tensley. Seto had to open the veil between the two worlds. He used some kind of dagger and chanted strange words. Unless he is there to do it, there’s no way we’re getting out of here,” Molly said, gripping his bicep.
“Fuck.” He folded his arms across his chest, glaring at the floor.
He rubbed at his chin in thought. They needed to leave. Tensley needed to get back to Scorpios and lead his men. With his father out of the picture, he was the head, the leader, the commander.
Her heart tightened at his turmoil.
His people needed him. Them.
His poor mother and siblings. They were probably rattled to the core. Scorpios hadn’t had to face something this severe for decades.
His family needed them.
“Seto,” he muttered and turned to face Molly, her brows drawn downward.
Molly slowly nodded, their thoughts merging together.
Seto had lost everything—his honor, his Prim—nothing held him back from betraying the court or the crown. And he knew how to open the veil to Earth.
“C’mon,” Tensley said and took her hand.
They were going to the hole, the darkest, deepest part of hell.