by Caitlyn Dare
“Did you know about this?” I ask Sasha, but her pupils are already blown and the grin splitting her face tells me she’s as high as a kite.
“I told you to take the pill.” She shrugs as if it’s just business as usual.
It isn’t business as fucking usual.
“Tell me you’re not going out there?” I hiss at Channing, but he’s already moving away from me, yanking his t-shirt over his head and approaching his friends. The five of them—Cade, Ashton, Tim, Brandon, and Channing—stand before Bexley and Alex like bronzed gods.
“The only way you leave here tonight,” Cade says, ushering the crowd into silence once more, “is to submit.”
“Oh God,” I breathe. He’s insane. Completely and utterly insane.
Alex looks green, like he’s going to puke at any moment. But not Bexley. He looks furious, his eyes burning with contempt. Staggering to his feet, he runs a trembling hand through his hair, levelling each of the Electi with a murderous glare.
“You want carnage?” He spits the words, their venom snaking through me like barbed wire. “Come get it.”
11
Bexley
"The only way to make a difference, to make a change, is to see this through. Everyone in this town needs you to do this." Uncle Marcus—Grandad's, I guess—words ring out in my mind as I stare Cade fucking Kinsley right in the eyes.
If he thinks he's scaring me enough to make me back down, to make me submit like he craves, then he needs to think again. Because I don't submit to anyone, especially not a jumped-up, power-hungry cunt like him.
Even without Marcus' words ringing loud in my ears and the haze from whatever they gave us back at that freaky-as-fuck chamber, there's no way I'd walk away from this fight. Even if it ends up being five against one.
It might have taken a lot of time and effort on Alex's part to scale my walls and worm his way inside my life, but he's the opposite of me, and I already know that he can't fight for shit.
They're going to take him down in less than two minutes, I'd put money on it. I, however, have every intention of making it hard work for them.
The bloodthirsty crowd chants and cheers, desperate for the fight to start as tension ripples around us.
I don't look at the other four. I don't give a fuck about them.
I'm going for the main man.
He's my target. And I think that might be the case long after tonight is done.
"Robes off, initium. Let's see what you're made of," Cade taunts.
My hands drop to the tie around my waist as my head continues to spin. I should have guessed they'd spike the drinks we were forced to down as part of whatever fucked-up ceremony we endured in that church not so long ago. But the second my vision started to blur and my muscles started to relax, I knew what they'd done.
Lucky for me, though—after all the shit I've taken over the years, I have a high tolerance for that crap, and unlike Alex, who almost passed out on the journey here, I'm still somewhat with it.
I rip the tie open and shrug the fabric from my shoulders, now grateful for the shorts they allowed us to pull on, although suspicious of them doing something as kind as that.
A smirk pulls at my lips as I wonder if it's because my cock is bigger than Cade's.
"Something funny, Easton?"
"Yeah," I spit. "You."
I crack my knuckles, the crunch settling something inside me for a second as a growl rumbles up Cade's throat.
"You're going down, motherfucker."
He flies at me, but I'm ready for him and block his first hit. That really doesn't do anything to tame the beast.
He chuckles, but there's nothing amusing about it. It's more like I imagine the devil himself might look if he were ever to laugh.
"What are you waiting for?" I taunt as Ashton steps up beside Cade.
"Nothin'," he spits, and this time when he lunges, I'm not as fast, and his knuckles connect with my jaw, snapping my head to the side as my face burns red hot and pain lances down my spine.
I barely get a chance to catch my breath before more fists rain down on me. Cade focuses on my face, because he's a twisted motherfucker and will want to be the one to claim the visible evidence of this night, while Ashton focuses on my torso, as if his main goal is to crack every single rib.
I give it everything I have, but the moment Ashton stepped up to the plate, I knew the odds weren't in my favor, and the second a massive cheer booms from the crowd, it’s clear my job just got a hell of a lot harder.
Glancing to my left, I find what I feared: Alex is out cold on the muddy, wet ground at my feet, while Brandon and Tim take a step back.
"One down, one to go," Cade taunts. "And it's five against one. How are you fairing your chances, Easton?"
"Fuck. You," I spit, spraying his face in blood and spittle.
The sick cunt doesn't even bother to wipe it away as he closes the space between us. He nods his chin over my shoulder, and I sense the others move behind me until I'm in the middle of their fucked-up circle.
Silence falls around me as the crowd watches, waiting to see what's going to happen next. Movement over Cade's shoulder catches my eye, and once I manage to focus, I find Mia.
All the breath rushes from my lungs at the devastated look on her face and the tear tracks down her cheeks as she stares at me.
Fuck. Even crying, she’s beautiful.
That's the last thought I manage to get in before someone's fist lands in my lower back and I fall forward onto my knees, right before Cade.
"Time to bow to your fucking king, asshole." Cade's foot lands in the center of my chest, putting enough force behind it that I have no choice but to crash to the ground, my shoulder smarting as I land on it.
"I'm not cowering to you, Kingsley." I jump back up and fly at him, my fist connecting with his nose with a loud crunch. That one sound momentarily makes the pain searing through my body worth it.
Blood pours down his face and into his mouth. He spits a load out, shaking his head at me. "Cunt," he roars before both he and Ashton strike again.
Hit after hit rains down on every inch of my body they can reach. The crowd goes wild, but after a while, all the noise and chaos surrounding me begins to quiet, probably my body's way of telling me this is coming to an end, and not in the way I hoped it would.
Two pairs of hands wrap around my upper arms, and I’m hauled back against two warm bodies, giving Cade and Ashton free shots without me fighting back.
I jolt against their hold, my quickly depleting energy is nothing compared to their strength. The darkness is starting to set in, and I know that soon, Cade is going to get exactly what he wants: me in a bloody pile on the ground at his feet.
Their fists continue as my knees start to buckle under my weight. Still I try to fight back, but it's futile.
I'd lost this fight long ago, and it's time I accept the inevitable.
The pain lessens, and I start to think it's over, but seconds later, a stronger punch snaps my head to the side. Stars flash in my vision as I rely even more on the two guys taking my weight.
Two more brutal punches land before Ashton's name being called rings through my ears. Seconds later, everything goes black.
The pain is the only thing I can focus on. It's like when I was seven and fell off my bike, breaking my leg in two places. Only this time, the pain isn't just in my leg. It's in every single inch of my body. I swear to fucking God that even my toenails hurt.
But that all seems to vanish when she touches me.
Her fingertips gently run down my cheek as she inspects me for wounds.
Mia
I want to say her name, but nothing works. I can't even part my lips.
I put everything I have into moving my arm to reach for her. To feel her warmth against my skin. To know that she's really here.
Tell me all of this is a nightmare, I want to beg.
This can't be real. I can't really be part of this fucked-up world that I know nothing about.
I'm a Danforth. My dad is a Danforth, right?
But if this is real, and Marcus is my grandfather, then who is…
Something soft and warm presses against my bottom lip, and all thoughts fall from my head.
She's fixing me.
She's here.
It comes as some comfort, but the fact that I've got these wounds in the first place means that there's a chance it's real.
Fuck.
My head spins and my body remains motionless as I draw support from her tender touch. I wish she'd talk to me. That she’d explain what really happened tonight. Because the reality has to be different. It has to be.
I feel myself fading, and I try to claw to reality to keep me here with her. I don't want to succumb to the darkness where I'll be alone. Cold. Confused.
I want her to tell me that everything is okay, normal, and that my life as I know it isn't completely over.
That I'm not basically owned by Cade Kingsley and his asshole friends who chanted all that Latin at me earlier, watching as that fucker dragged a knife across my skin and forced me to drink out of a chalice.
It can't be real.
I awake with a start, ripping my eyes open to find that I'm shrouded in darkness and that the pain I thought I’d dreamed about is very, very real.
Blinking a few times, I allow my eyes to adjust, and when they finally do, I find a figure sitting with his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his legs that are pulled up against his chest.
"A-Alex?" My voice is so rough, it sounds like I've been asleep for a week.
Maybe I have.
"Yeah," he replies. His own sounds hollow, broken.
"What did… Are we really… Fuck,” I breathe through the pain burning every inch of me. “What the fuck was that?”
"Our worst fucking nightmare," he sighs.
“Did you know that was going to happen?” I ask. Whatever that was.
"Does it sound like I fucking knew?" he hisses, and I don’t know if it’s from the pain, frustration, or both.
“You’re a Rexford? How is that even possible?”
“You tell me. I thought my dad was dead." His defeated tone speaks to me, and I fight to sit up so I can support him. My body screams as I attempt to move. After what feels like an hour, I finally manage to push from the cold, solid concrete floor beneath me so I'm on my hands and knees.
I crawl over to him, hating that Cade Kingsley has reduced me to this, before lowering my ass back to the ground beside him. "I'm sorry,” I croak.
"It's not your fault."
"At least we're in this together though, eh?"
"Oh yeah,” Alex lets out a strained chuckle, “that really makes it all better." He stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath. “Motherfucker…”
“What is it?”
“He wouldn’t… no way…” he murmurs to himself, and for a second, I’m worried he has a head injury, because he’s not making any sense.
“Alex,” I bark, “will you tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“There’s something you should know.” His words come out strained as he meets my bleary stare.
“Go on…” My throat is dry, because somehow I know I’m not going to like whatever he says next.
“Your uncle… I mean, your grandfather… well, he… fuck.” He hesitates, and I drill holes into the side of his face. “He asked me to befriend you all those months ago.”
“What the actual fuck?”
“Yeah, he checks in on my mom occasionally. One day he was over for dinner and collared me. Said he had a nephew coming to live with him and that he’d need a friend—”
“He pay you or something?” I grit out, anger skittering up my spine as I try to process what he’s saying.
“What? No! It wasn’t like that, I swear, man.”
“So what the fuck was it like?”
“He said I’d be doing him a big favor, and he’s always helped me and Mom out, so I thought, why not? Besides, it only took one look at you to know you needed a friend.”
“Fuck you, Rexford,” I sneer.
Alex flinches. “Guess I deserve that. But you know it’s true.” The faintest of smiles tugs at his mouth. “I had no idea you were his grandson or the Easton heir, Bex, I swear. He pulled the wool over both our eyes there.”
“Why, though? Why go to all those lengths?”
None of this makes any sense.
“Maybe he knew about my dad all along. Maybe he knew this day would come and wanted us to be in it together.”
The fight leaves my body on a pained sigh. He’s right. Somewhere deep inside, I know Alex is right. My uncle… no, my grandfather orchestrated this to make sure we had each other going into this thing.
But to what end?
Silence settles between us, and I rest my head back against the wall and close my eyes, willing the pain to subside. "How much do you know about… about all of this?"
"Not enough to fully understand, but enough to know that our lives have just turned to shit,” Alex replies.
"This Initium thing, is it serious?"
"As far as I know, yeah. There are stories… I heard one guy died way back…"
"Fuck."
"This isn't just some rich pricks playing games, man."
"We can say no though, right?"
Alex laughs, and for a minute he sounds like his old self, but then it turns manic and I start to wonder if the drugs they plied us with are having a lasting effect on him.
"No, Bex. We can't get out of this. It's our blood right. The only way out is to… is to die."
"We could leave," I suggest.
"They'd find us. The Easton name is on the verge of extinction. Without us, they don’t have a firstborn heir for our family lines."
"But Channing is a…"
"He's not a firstborn heir. Now I exist…” he trails off, clearly not ready to go there. “You’re the only Easton heir. Marcus’ son, your… your dad, he died…" I raise a brow, wondering how true that is, seeing as he thought his own father was dead until tonight. "It’s true, man. I’m sorry."
"My dad is a Danforth," I say, more to myself than him, because I know it’s a lie.
"You might need to talk to your mom about that." He lets out a weary sigh.
"Right. Fucking hell."
"We need to get out of here.”
"You fucking think?" I deadpan. “First, we need to figure out where the hell we are.”
He makes a nondescript noise in the back of his throat. "I think we're in Cade's basement. If you really listen, you can just about hear the music from the party."
"How long have we been down here?"
"A long time."
"And the party’s still going?"
"It's the night of the new moon. They'll party until sunrise and then some."
I have no intention of hanging around and waiting for Cade and his gang of loyal followers to find us and do whatever the fuck else they've got planned for us.
"There's only one door." Alex nods toward a set of stairs. "There's no fucking way they'll allow us just to walk out through it."
"Maybe not, but we've at least got to try."
And then when we’re free, I’m going straight to my uncle to get answers.
12
Mia
I wake with someone pressed up against my back. Fear steals my breath as I lie there, frozen in place. My bleary eyes strain against the light as I take in my surroundings. It’s a fairly plain room, light gray walls and darker gray curtains, but there’s a feminine touch in the pale gray and pink covers I’m under and the pink swirls painted around the mirror.
Glancing gingerly over my shoulder, I sigh with relief at the sight of Sasha lying there.
It’s not Cade.
I’m not in Cade’s room. Thank God.
I can’t quite remember how I got here, but I’ll take it over waking up in Cade’s bed any day.
“Ugh, what time is?” Sasha croaks, squinting up at me.
“Uh, it’s,” I turn to check the clock on the nightstand, “a little after nine.”
“I need water… and headache pills. And maybe some pancakes.”
I chuckle. “Some night, huh?” The words make me bristle as I remember watching Cade and his friends beat the crap out of Bexley. When they dragged him and Alex away, the two of them a bloody, barely conscious mess, I’d tried to go after them, but Sasha and Channing had marched me to the nearest keg and made me drink. One drink turned into two, and two turned into three, and before I knew it, the pit in my stomach had gone, replaced by a warm buzz.
Flipping onto my back, shoulder to shoulder with Sasha, I let out a small sigh. “What was that last night?”
“Caedes?”
“Yeah…”
“You really haven’t heard of it?”
“I’ve heard stuff… but I’ve never heard of Cade and Ashton almost beating a guy to death.” Anguish snakes through me as I wonder how Bexley is this morning.
“They didn’t…” She stops herself. “Bexley will live. He’s going to have to survive a whole lot more than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Bexley wasn’t supposed to exist, Mia. He’s an Easton heir.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “Easton was always the dominant bloodline until Marcus’ son died. Bexley’s existence changes everything.”
“I’m still not sure why it matters?”
“Why?” Sasha scoffs. “Because Cade doesn’t like outsiders, and Bexley didn’t grow up in Gravestone. He doesn’t know of our ways. Cade sees him as a threat.”
“Wait—you knew, didn’t you? All along, you knew who he was?”
It makes sense now, the strange animosity between Cade and Bexley. I thought it was about me, but it wasn’t. At least, not for Cade. I’m not sure Bexley knew any of this until yesterday. If he did, he sure did a good job of hiding it.