The men of Scorpios didn’t stand as I entered the meeting room at Scorpios’ townhouse. Evelyn, Tensley’s ex-lover and a member of Scorpios, sat at the head of the table, her sleek back hair pinned to one side. Her stare was not friendly as I sat down. I knew Tensley and Molly had been summoned to high court to see Fallen, the king, but I hadn’t known Evelyn had taken over.
A few men cleared their throats.
Every month a meeting was held with all members of Scorpios—including myself.
I had left Lex still asleep in bed, leaving a note I’d be back soon and to stay at my apartment until I returned. As I threw on my jacket, I had watched her still body underneath the covers. I wondered how much sleep she had had living in that crumbling building. She’d probably always had to sleep with one eye open. The thought of her feeling safe enough in my apartment to sleep soundly sent a fluttering sensation in my chest.
That I could give her something she never had.
Safety.
I frowned, realizing thoughts I’d just had.
In a sea of nicely pressed Calvin Klein black suits and polished Gucci oxfords, I stood out. Dressed in dark blue jeans stained with dirt and blood and a black t-shirt and jacket, I didn’t fit in with the rest of Scorpios.
A long time ago I did. I dressed in expensive suits and slicked back my dark hair and steeled my expression like a Scorpios should.
I pulled out a roll of belladonna and lit it, pressing the stick to my mouth and exhaling. Clouds of smoke thickened the air around us and I didn’t look away from the men’s straight expressions. I was a wild beast in the presence of chained ones.
I sat back against the leather armchair and eyed Evelyn. The bitch was thirsty for power and had been using my brother for it. When he dumped her, she tried her best to find her way back into that power.
And when Molly, my brother’s fiancée, had appeared, Evelyn had gone from thirsty to crazy.
I had no doubt she was shaking with glee because her ass cheeks were sitting in my brother’s chair while he couldn’t fill it himself.
“My men have looked into the attack,” Evelyn began, standing from her seat, straightening her black skirt. “And have confirmed it was Ares.”
I pinched the joint between my fingers, glaring at her. I had told the men that, but of course they wanted their own first-hand knowledge. They wouldn’t trust someone like me. The rogue. The disgraceful son of Salvatore Knight.
“They were sending a clear message,” another soldier commented, fixing his round glasses on his nose. “Scorpios should be on their guard and properly informed of the events that happened.”
“We cannot announce anything yet. It would just make everyone panic,” Evelyn argued, shaking one finger at him.
I glared at her. “It won’t be long until every single demon in New York City has heard of the attack. People will be asking for directions from Scorpios. They want to know we plan to retaliate.”
“Retaliate?” She laughed as if the thought was absurd. “To honor the death of whom? Low-class demons? The vermin that invades our streets, steals profit and merchandise from us and make a living of their sins and debauchery. Those demons?” Her cool gaze was locked on me, and the dark orbs were dripping with disgust. Then she let her gaze roam me, slowly, her brow pinching at my outfit, at the scruff on my tensed jaw. “Demons like yourself. You have no say in this room, Beau.” She was addressing me informally out of spite, to prove her point. Prove that she esteemed me no more than she did the dirt under her shoes. “You’ve lost that say years ago.”
“The Dux would want to retaliate,” a man said from somewhere to my right, his voice rather shaky.
Evelyn’s gaze snapped to the man, but my poisonous eyes stayed firmly on her. “The Dux—” she started, putting emphases on the last word. “Is not here to decide such things, now is he?”
“A letter could be—”
“Enough!” Her features were drawn tight. “Connor, please escort Mr. Travis out of the room, his opinions will no longer be needed.”
My fingers dug into the chair, the squeak of leather filling the silent room. The men glanced at each other nervously, some flinching as the door banged behind Connor and a flailing Mr. Travis. A few even bowed their heads to Evelyn after that, afraid to look at her.
I didn’t look away from her. Her pointed nose high in the air. She had been just a child before I became heartless. I doubted she remembered much of the old me. Most didn’t.
Hell, most days, I barely did myself.
What I did remember was a boy that was too carefree, too stupid and driven by emotions demons had no rights to feel.
I’d been good at hiding that part of myself from my father. But no matter how well he’d taught me, how efficiently he’d carved me into the perfect little Dux, it still hadn’t been enough to erase that flicker of life and love inside me.
That was until Fallen had taken the matters into his own hands. Literally.
“Who elected you?” I asked, stubbing the drag onto the oak wood table, not flinching, not showing any form of emotion on my features or in my body.
Her mouth pinched into an ugly scowl. “They needed a leader, so I stepped up until your brother’s return. What?” she asked expectantly. “Did you expect you’d be filling in for him? You.” She smiled, a sour laugh leaving her lips. She popped her hip out to the side and let her hand rest there as she moved closer, rounding the large wooden conference table. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, the sound annoying the beast in me further. “How does it feel to see a woman who doesn’t even bare your family’s name, standing where you would have been standing had you not been a fuck up of a son to your father?”
A few men dared chuckle at that.
I could destroy this whole fucking room if I wanted to. Make nothing but a memory of it and the people around this table. I could break their bones and watch them bleed.
And I wanted to.
But I wouldn’t give in.
She wanted to provoke me, provoke the animal in me.
I wouldn’t give her the pleasure of meeting the beast.
In fact, I wasn’t going to waste anymore of my time here with these preppy bastards. I stood, sending her another glare and turned. I was almost to the front doors of the townhouse when I paused. I fisted my hands and stuffed them into my jacket, staring at the black and white marble tiled floors.
The beast told me to leave, the man inside of me told me to see the bastard.
I clenched my jaw and turned, marching up the steps. As I made my way down the darkened hallways that I knew like the back of my hand, I noticed two soldiers guarding my father’s door.
One lifted their hands, but it shook as he took in who I was. “The lady said he must not be disturbed.”
I didn’t stop however and glowered down at him. “Move.”
“The lady—” The other man spoke up, his beady eyes challenging mine.
“I share the same blood as the man you guard. The last thing I would do is harm him,” I hissed at him, watching as he shrunk back at my chilly voice.
“Let him in,” a soft voice said behind me. I didn’t need to look at her. I knew exactly who owned that delicate, smooth voice. The woman who had always been too soft on me. Too kind and loving. The woman who was part of the reason why I’d fallen from grace.
The two men bowed their heads and shifted to the side. I paused, rolling my stiff shoulders back and entered the dark room. The heavy curtains were drawn and apple wood burnt in the black marble fireplace right across from the large king size bed.
I hadn’t seen him since I was told he had been poisoned. By who? No one knew, but I had heard people thought it was Ares.
I moved farther into the room, making my way over to the liquor cabinet and poured some rum into a short crystal glass. My hands shook as I grasped it and sat down in one of the upholstered chairs by the bed.
My gaze lifted to it, seeing the faint outline of my father. The man that raised me to become the perfect Dux. The blood in my veins was pure poison. My father had taught me everything: to be cruel, to be ruthless, to be a leader.
But I had rebelled and given my heart to our mortal enemy. A human.
Demons didn’t love, they destroyed.
I poured another shot down my throat and held the glass in my hands, spreading my thighs.
I had lived in darkness, in this house, celebrating the animal inside of me.
“Beau,” that same soft voice whispered from the doorway.
I tapped my finger on the glass, refusing to turn to see her.
“What are you doing here?” She moved closer, her gaze going to my father lying still, so still, in their bed.
“I wanted to see for myself,” I told her, again tapping the glass.
Silence welcomed us, but I could feel her gaze on me. I avoided this house, this family, unless necessary. I figured she was trying to memorize my features by how long she stared. Or maybe trying to recognize the man before her. But I was now inked in sin and darkness, each word, each symbol on my body a reminder of what I had done, what I had caused and fallen for. I was a sinner in this household, in Scorpios, in the Pit.
“The man that made my soul cruel,” I said into the darkness. My insides twisted. I had the upmost respect for the man before me. For building an empire, for forging forward and destroying anyone in his path. Including myself. But inside of me, resentment and anger fused together, beating ugly red and violent. He had formed me into the perfect replica of him. Every aspect of who I was—stemmed from him. He had shaped me into a ruthless man, but my mother had carved a heart into my chest, so soft and sweet and weak. The heart she’d carved there had been hungry to be filled with more. More love. More softness. More warmth.
And so when I saw Valentina that first time, I melted.
I let her in and I let her destroy us both.
I love you for your soul.
“Stay here,” my mother said, stepping closer, wringing her hands together. “The Pit is too dangerous. Come back to us, Beau.”
“And let these cowards protect me here?” I laughed darkly at that and downed my drink, the alcohol burning my throat like the perfect remedy to forget. The belladonna still cruised in my bloodstream and I began to feel the effects—the relaxing sensation, the warmth in the darkness that I craved. I stood, slamming the glass onto the desk. “I’m the threat, Mother. You don’t want me lurking around here.”
“Beau,” she said, catching my hand. Her hand, now slightly wrinkled with age, clung to my inked fingers, stroking over each tattoo tenderly.
I stared down at her, willing myself to steal one final look at her. She had aged but was still beautiful. Her eyes were bloodshot and wet, but they still had that deep shade of brown we shared.
She coddled me as a child. Giving me the ultimate curse. Love.
“You are still my son,” she muttered, her lips trembling as the words spilled from her mouth. “I will always want to protect you, Beau.”
My throat grew thick and hot and I looked away, gritting my teeth. Because her words stung my chest and I didn’t want that. “Goodnight, Mother.”
I moved past her, her fingers sliding from mine as I marched out of the townhouse, ignoring each stare from the soldiers lined at the wall. I dug for another joint of belladonna and lit it, soaking in its relief, its high.
I wanted to forget everything. I wanted to be free of my darkness, free of my emotions.
And when I thought of how to escape it, my mind went straight to that little souleater.
When I returned to the apartment, seeing Lex sitting on the couch, her hair a chaotic mess of chestnut, I spoke lowly:
“We start training first thing tomorrow morning,” I told her, watching as her eyes brightened. She needed to protect herself—from Ares, from demons at the Pit, and from me.