Molly made her way out of Mr. Knight’s office and up to the bedroom they had used last night.
When she entered the room, she saw Tensley, half dressed in front of a full-length mirror. His back muscles were tensed in the lines of his thoughts, and she couldn’t help but steal a glance at his firm ass in his pants.
Her thoughts went back to what his mother had spoken to her about a few minutes ago, and just by looking at him, she saw the stress building in his body.
His sharp eyes caught her reflection in the mirror and paused. “Your dress is on the bed.”
She looked over at the king size bed to see a black gown laid out. She stepped closer, her hand stroking the sheer fabric. A gown of the night sky. She undressed, the tension thick in the room. As she stepped into the dress and zipped up the back, flowing around her figure, she stole a glance at Tensley.
His head was bowed as he buttoned up his shirt, the back taut around his muscles.
“Fuck,” she heard him mutter when he came to his tie.
She moved, her dress a whisper across the old oak floorboards and slipped her hand down his side, moving to face him.
Be his strength.
“Here,” she said softly, not to spook him. Her hands placed over his, she felt his heavy eyes on her. With a sigh, he let his hands fall away from his loose tie and she moved closer.
“My men think I’m weak, that I’m too fucking young,” he hissed out, and she saw his jaw flex.
Molly straightened his tie, making sure one end was longer than the other. “Then your men are blind.”
He tsked. “This wasn’t what I expected.” Molly peeked up at his expression, so torn, so drawn, but his eyes were focused on her. When his eyes caught hers, he lured her into his darkness, never letting her look back down. His hands found her hips and pulled her closer. “I thought we had time. I thought I had time to be a man with you.”
Molly frowned. “What do you mean?”
“With being Dux, I’m responsible for thousands of lives. Everyone will be watching us. I thought for a while I could just be responsible for you and only you. Focus entirely on you. Be a man without everyone breathing down my neck,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning her hairline so the curls swayed across her forehead. “But I must be the Dux; cruel, focused, deadly. And now with the High Court wanting me, I’ll be tied to two roles.”
She fidgeted with his tie, dropping her gaze to his bobbing throat. “You’re going to work at the High Court, then?”
“Molly.” He sighed. “I was going to tell you, but I was still trying to process everything.”
“I understand,” she told him fast when she felt his pulse quicken. Molly couldn’t help but think of her own situation, the possibility of a pregnancy, of needing time to process. “We all have things we wish to process alone, things we need to think through on our own before sharing with others.”
He paused, and his next words hit her hard. “Fallen knows about Pearce.”
She gawked at him, her hands trembling. “He does?”
He tsked. “He does, and he threatened if I didn’t agree to serve him, he’d tell the court, and they’d murder you.” His anger rolled off him in heavy, ruthless waves.
She swallowed. “But… they wouldn’t. I’m a daemon.”
Tensley’s thumb brushed across her wrinkled brow. “He says he has a daemon.”
Her eyes widened. “Another daemon? You…” She couldn’t speak. Another one of her. A chance for her death, a chance for her to understand who or what she was. She bit the inside of her mouth. The news was terrifying, but thrilling. What if this other daemon could tell her things?
“I won’t let anyone in the High Court touch you, and if I have to serve that bastard King, I will,” Tensley said, regaining her attention. “I’ll figure out how to run Scorpios while being in the High Court.”
She toyed with his tie. “You won’t be alone, Tensley.”
His hands gripped her tighter. “Fuck, Molly.” One palm found her cheek and she lifted her eyes to meet his narrowed ones. “How the hell did I get you?”
She shrugged, a corner of her lip quirking. “A contract. Three hundred years ago.”
“Smartass.”
“You do like my ass though, don’t you?”
He smirked and palmed her cheeks, flushing her against his front. She blushed at his stone-hard length rubbing against her.
“Tensley,” she moaned, cupping his scruffy cheeks, so rough against her palms that she wondered how they would feel against her thighs. “You’re a new leader. You can make your own reign, your own choices. Not like your father. Those men are scared of your potential and they should be. Show them the beast.”
A smug smirk took to his smiles, but his eyes shone so bright, so proudly, she almost sighed aloud.
She tugged at his tie.
His hand caught hers. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” His finger rubbed along her wrist bone.
She laughed, stepping out of his embrace. “No, I don’t.”
He cocked a brow, not hiding his smile. “Trying to distract me?”
She scooted around him and toward the dresser, grabbing her brush for her hair. “It worked, didn’t it?”
He hummed as he watched her stroke the brush through her waves. She glanced back at him, his stance strong, leaning against the wall, those dark eyes examining her with need, with pride.
Her stomach churned. She wanted to tell him. She didn’t want do the test alone, but now was not the right time. Tomorrow, she told herself.
Tonight—he needed her.
“Ready?” she said, turning to face him.
He looped his tie perfectly to create one she would see on a fashion runaway and he strode toward her.
“I was born ready, dolcezza.” And then he swept her into his arms and devoured her mouth.
One last taste of poison before the oath.
TENSLEY TIGHTENED his grip on Molly’s hand wedged between his bicep as they moved down the grand staircase. He could hear the chatter, the low laughs from the ballroom, where the ceremony would occur. All members of Scorpios.
It was a march of death and rebirth—death of Tensley Knight, the son of a vicious leader, the brother of a traitor, and the thief of the daemon; the rebirth of a Dux, a beast of the court, and power nipped at his flesh, curling around his throat and wrists.
Power that would surge through him like lightning.
Vicious as steel, heartless as iron, soulless as ash.
With Molly by his side as he walked into the glittering ballroom of Scorpios, silence fell like thunder over the crowd.
The only sound, their shoes against the white marble floor.
Click. Click. Click.
He raised his head high, eyeing Mr. Rose and an official of the High Court. Seto, the King’s guard. Seto wore a black robe with golden cuffs and a golden collar of metal. Tensley’s scorpion tattoo burned on his right shoulder blade, his breath shallow and quiet.
He walked Molly to the front of the crowd and stood her beside his mother who looked too pale, too thin.
He didn’t hug Molly or touch her, but he gave her one final look, a look he hoped expressed everything he couldn’t say or do. He had explained what he could to her, but he knew the ceremony would be worrisome no matter what.
Then he turned, seeing the councilmen seated on upholstered black and gold chairs, watching as he crossed the distance to Seto and Mr. Rose.
He eyed the golden goblet aged by years of use, and the garland of thorns and thistles.
“Come,” Seto demanded, not moving his hands from each other in front of him. Seto was a tall, wide-set structure, towering over Mr. Rose, and scars ran along his cheeks, but he wore them proudly. His dark hair was tied back in a thick braid and a massive beard hid the lower part of his face, only hinting at thin, scowling lips.
Tensley did as he was commanded and stood in front of Seto, wearing the same cool expression.
“As Fallen’s messenger between the High Court and Earth, I have received the King’s blessing to make Tensley Knight the Dux of Scorpios, his birthright,” Seto announced to the silent crowd. “The thorns,” he ordered, snapping at Mr. Rose. Mr. Rose reached for the garland of thorns, jolting when the sharp edge sliced his thumb. He passed it to Seto who turned to face Tensley.
“Are you ready, Mr. Knight?”
He grinded his teeth and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He braced himself as Seto set the garland, the crown of thorns upon his head and slid it down, slicing into his scalp, his temple, perfecting the impassive expression. No emotion, no sign of weakness as his men, his people watched him perform the oath.
“The cup,” Seto said and passed it into Tensley’s hands. “You may drink from the cup after you say your oath to the crown.”
Tensley breathed through his nose and glanced down at the dark redness swishing in the golden cup. Blood of Fallen.
“I, Tensley Knight, take the oath of the crown,” he began, voice steel, voice iron, the perfect warrior, perfect beast. He paused, his heated gaze turning to the silent crowd. Then the oath, the ancient oath rolled off his tongue. One he’d practiced as a child with Beau. One he’d dreamt of and feared.
“With this cup of blood
And thorns upon my head
To which my essence does flow
I solemnly swear
My loyalty as Dux
To the brothers of Scorpios
To the court
And to the Crown
Which comes before any other
And is steadfast above all else
In strength and malignancy
As does the blood drip from my head
So does the blood which I have been graced
From the almighty himself
Fallen.”
One deep breath and he lifted the goblet to his mouth, pouring the thickness of poison and corruption down his throat and into his own bloodstream.
He straightened, licked his lips, the taste of bitter acid in his throat, and faced the crowd, the warm blood from his temples rivulets down his cheeks, through his lashes.
He didn’t flinch, he didn’t cower.
Show them the beast you are.
His eyes sought hers, wide and wet, but she didn’t look away, she didn’t flinch.
How can I be the cruel demon to serve my men and my king, and still touch her with the softest, holiest caresses of devotion?
“I present the Dux of Scorpios,” Seto announced.
And cheers erupted, hands clapping, but all he heard was her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
Did she see the beast now?