by R. Scarlett
All the blood rushed to Mr. Rose’s face. “You bastard! You picked that vile human over my daughter? How dare you bring such scum into our presence! What would Fallen say—”
“Things change,” Mr. Knight interrupted coolly, though his eyes were two vats of raging fire.
“I told ya! It’s in their genes. Those weak bastards love humans.” Pudgy chuckled, a few others soon joining in.
Tensley narrowed his eyes, drilling imaginary holes into Pudgy’s skull. His beast—his demon side wanted to maul the man.
“I don’t know how comfortable I feel letting two men who are obviously human sympathizers lead Scorpios,” said another partner named Mr. Adams, garnering a few more nods of agreement.
“I believe a vote is needed, Mr. Knight. The partners obviously don’t agree with your weak son taking over this organization and mating with that human whore,” Mr. Rose spat, raising his hand.
Tensley glowered as the room filled with protests, forcing him to pound his fist repeatedly on the table until the others shut their mouths. He looked directly at each and every Scorpios partner, baring his teeth to make a point of showing them his wrath. A weak man. He would show them he didn’t possess a weak bone in his body.
“My family has held the position of Dux for Scorpios since 1699, and we will continue to lead it through the next three centuries and beyond. If you have a problem with who I decide to marry, then find the fucking door.”
“Tensley!” his father roared.
“I think your son should be removed for talking to councilmen like that,” Mr. Rose said, glaring at Tensley. “We have no time for weak, sensitive leaders.”
“Care to remove me yourself?” Tensley challenged, relishing the chance to bash Mr. Rose’s face in.
“My son is not and will never be weak, especially when he’s engaged to a daemon,” boomed Mr. Knight, his voice reverberating through the office.
Tensley blinked. Fuck.
Every single demon present bristled at the word, their bravery evaporating.
“Since this is very sensitive news, I know none of you will expose my son’s fiancée—unless you want to suffer the penalty. Fallen’s court will be alerted at the right time.” Mr. Knight straightened. “Where’s your loyalty to my family? To me? Have I ever failed as your Dux?”
“We need proof, Salvatore,” Mr. Rose said after a long, brutal silence.
Tensley fisted his hands. Of course these motherfuckers do. He wanted to punch the man in the face, right there, right then, perhaps take out a tooth or ten in the process—but he suspected that was not the proof Mr. Rose was looking for.
“Find Miss Darling,” Mr. Knight said to the nearest servant. “We require her presence.”
Tensley’s head whipped around so hard it cracked. “Father,” he murmured, but Mr. Knight ignored him.
The servant returned after several tense minutes, leading Molly in.
She scanned the room, those vivid eyes searching, searching—until they settled on him.
Something unspoken passed between them, a wordless conversation of confusion, fear, and surrender.
An encouragement, a whispered praise, a comforting look, he didn’t know—but he did know she had found in his eyes what she had been needing.
“Miss Darling,” Mr. Knight said. “Would you be so kind as to demonstrate to my men what you are?”
Molly glared at Mr. Knight; Tensley realized she must recognize him as the man who attacked her father all those years ago. “I don’t know what you mean…”
“It’s all right Molly,” Tensley urged, moving closer. “Go ahead.”
“Tensley…” she whispered, shaking her head.
He nodded again.
Slowly, she turned to face everyone, her shoulders tensing and hands curling as if preparing for battle. She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose before opening them once more to pierce each man with her glowing gaze, entrancing them.
Controlling them.
Tensley couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as she wielded her strength, her ability to paralyze the Scorpios members with fear and reverence.
Molly was his dolcezza, his beauty.
She was going to be the death of him.
“That’s enough, Miss Darling,” said Mr. Knight victoriously. “Thank you. You’re dismissed.”
Molly relaxed and blinked several times, her eyes returning to their normal blue shade and seeking Tensley out again.
“I’ll join you in a bit,” he said, a little too kindly for his liking in front of the Scorpios members—who, truthfully, were still shaking themselves free of Molly’s trance.
“So now you all know,” Tensley started up once Molly had left the room, “that the only way you’re going to supersede me as Dux is if you kill me first.” Tensley plucked a piece of lint from his suit jacket and marched toward the oak door, still left open in Molly’s wake. “Enjoy your evening.”
When he was a few feet down the hall, someone grabbed his bicep with ferocity. “As much as the daemon helps to secure our place, you can’t talk to them like that,” Mr. Knight hissed. “Get your anger under control; things are precarious enough as it is with all these disappearances. They nearly voted you out.”
“And they still might.”
Tensley stiffened at the lilting tone of his older sister.
“Gabriella, get back to the party,” Mr. Knight ordered, shooing her away.
Gabriella sidestepped her father with remarkable deftness considering the roundness of her belly. “It doesn’t appear your son has marked her yet, Father. Molly Darling doesn’t have his scent.”
Tensley inhaled so hard he coughed on his spit.
“Dear, dear brother,” Gabriella went on, clearly amused by his discomfort. “You just sent a lamb to the slaughterhouse.”
FUCK ME.
“You haven’t marked her?” Mr. Knight snarled, spinning Tensley to face him.
His father’s fingers pierced into Tensley’s shoulder blade like sharpened knives, and when Tensley finally looked into Mr. Knight’s face, he saw the pure demon within. “No.”
“Why not?”
It was the closest Tensley had ever seen to his father losing composure, and it made him feel like a scolded seven-year-old again.
Because she didn’t choose this life, and once I’ve marked her she’ll never be free of a husband who can’t give her what she truly desires: love. Emotion. Affection.
All reasons he couldn’t actually admit to his tyrannical excuse for a father.
Tensley yanked his arm from Mr. Knight’s hold. “I’m figuring it out.”
Mr. Knight huffed and spun, shouting over his shoulder. “My office. Now.”
Gabriella and Tensley trailed behind their father and into the room Tensley would one day run Scorpios from. The expansive space was lavish, with navy walls and marble and chrome accents that seemed old-fashioned and showy to Tensley.
Mr. Knight shifted some papers and sat down, tapping his fingers impatiently against the wood of his massive desk.
Both Gabriella and Tensley stood across from him like two children awaiting a punishment, both knowing better than to speak out of turn.
“Abaddon…he knew,” Mr. Knight said with a growl. “That’s why she was taken.”
Tensley gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
“And now she’s here. In a house full of demons,” Gabriella spat from his right. “Smart move, brother.”
Tensley glared at Gabriella, seething. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, not after he’d watched her torment Illya for years. “Don’t talk to me.”
“Ooh, still upset I told Father about Illya’s little transgression?”
“You contrived a story about him stealing files from Scorpios! He was nearly imprisoned! So yes, I’m still fucking upset!”
“Both of you, stop.” Mr. Knight ran his fingers through his midnight-black mane and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If Fallen found out about this…”
/>
Tensley straightened. Too bad he already knows she exists.
Gabriella smirked. “Molly was just openly telling everyone at the party about how you haven’t slept with her yet. Is that a human thing? Being so…shameless?”
“Shut the fuck up, Gabriella,” Tensley said.
“Enough! Tensley, mark her! Tonight! Right now outside this door for all I care!” Mr. Knight shouted over their squabbling. “We cannot show weakness right now—not in the middle of our negotiations with Ares.”
Gabriella cocked her head. “Ares? The Boston division? Are you planning to take over?”
Mr. Knight massaged his temples. “Yes. Now leave my sight before I start regretting letting you both live beyond infancy.”
Gabriella strutted outside—Tensley assumed most heavily pregnant women waddled at that stage, but not his primping, preening sister—and he followed, glowering at the back of her head.
“Guess you’re not the favorite child anymore,” she said when they were a several yards from their father’s office.
“If you so much as glared in Molly’s direction—”
“There, there, Tensley,” Gabriella interjected. “You’re sounding dangerously similar to another beloved brother of mine.”
“You had no business telling Father any of this,” Tensley said, ignoring Gabriella’s suggestion that he and Beau were anything alike. “Are you angry because your husband doesn’t have the urge to mark you? Is that what this is, Gabriella? Are you playing the jealous, bored housewife?”
She snarled. He’d definitely hit a nerve.
“Don’t you dare,” she said as her hand hit his away, scowling. “Don’t try to make this about me, Tensley. You’re the fuckup, and it’s about time Father knew. All those years he favored you while I was forgotten by him.”
“Favored me?” Unless being treated like a soldier in a military encampment was a new form of parental favoring, Tensley’s childhood had included nothing of the sort.
Gabriella glared at him. “You have the power to glorify our family again. Don’t you remember? How everyone stopped talking to us, how father lost so many clients, so many deals because of Beau’s mistakes? Father had to testify in front of the High Court to prove he was still fit to run Scorpios. Kids were far crueller; I’m sure you remember that. We fell from the graces of so many high-born and became pure entertainment to watch. That daemon can bring us back.”
“I remember, Gabriella,” he said, lifting his chin so her eyes followed the faint scar Beau had given him for pleasure. Unlike Gabriella, Beau had taken his fits of rage out on Tensley.
She sighed and stood up straight, caressing her stomach again. His eyes glanced at the bump for a moment, wondering how her husband so much as tolerated her. She snickered and turned. “Come to think of it, maybe Abaddon should have marked her instead. If she’s the daemon you say she is, she needs a demon who won’t let her control him. You obviously cannot do that, brother, and we cannot withstand another scandal.”
“Watch your tongue.” He growled lowly, his back seized, his muscles tightening and his nails digging into his palms.
“Then prove me wrong. Show me you’re capable of putting her feelings aside. Do you think she wants you? She wants love and you can’t give it to her. She wants a human man and instead has you, the harsh demon.”
Those words settled deep inside Tensley’s chest and mind. I can’t give her what she deserves…
Gabriella gave him a pointed look. “Do what’s right for our family, for Scorpios. Mark her, Tensley. Soon—or some other incubi will and Father will never forgive you for it.”
She left him in the darkness of the hallway then. Tensley snarled in his throat and punched the wall, his anger too vast to contain within himself.
He turned to search for Molly, but froze at the sight of her.
Fucking hell.
“Evelyn,” he muttered, straightening for another attack.
His ex-lover edged closer along the dark hall, smiling viciously at him as she tossed a lock of dark hair off her naked shoulder. Her hips swung back and forth, creating a mesmerizing rhythm that had once been a siren’s call to him.
Now it was like coins in a metal can, setting his teeth on edge.
His chest burnt. She had scorched him, singed the affection he’d once held for her to ash, to nothingness. For a while, they had both survived off of each other, had given each other what was needed.
Unlike Molly though, Evelyn knew the limits of his affection, knew what was needed of her. Unlike Molly with her sexy outfits, the way she tossed her hair, all of it beckoning to him, calling him to consume her essence—Evelyn knew his limits. They were partners in their world.
A demon-to-demon relationship was business and only so much affection existed between the two. Marriage to demons was a power exchange, just as much as sex was.
And now with his fiancée in the picture, Evelyn was no longer needed.
She tilted her head to the side, exposing her slender, delicate neck. “I need to speak to you. Privately.”
“I’m busy.”
She immediately latched onto his arm.
“No—I need you.” She paused, parting her red lips; he couldn’t look away. “Now.”
He paused and swallowed, ashamed to admit he was turned on. A few months ago, he would’ve agreed right away. Evelyn Rose understood him: his needs, his anger, the limits of his affections. She would’ve been the perfect wife for a Dux.
He hadn’t been getting energy from anyone—not since Molly weeks prior—and Evelyn’s willingness was stoking his basest needs.
“I saw your fiancée,” Evelyn cooed once she’d pressed him against the wall. “She’s much too sweet for you.” She leaned forward and gently blew against his earlobe. “You need someone who can handle you, who can reciprocate—”
“Tensley?” Molly stood silhouetted a dozen feet from them, the nearest chandelier’s light draping her in a dewy, golden glow.
Evelyn’s fingers dug deeper into Tensley’s bicep.
He shook his arm out of Evelyn’s grasp and faced his fiancée, unable to ignore the hurt and confusion flashing across Molly’s features.
“Good seeing you again, Mr. Knight,” Evelyn purred, dragging a finger across Tensley’s chest before passing Molly to vanish amongst the partygoers.
Molly’s eyes pierced Tensley like laser beams as he approached and reached for her arm.
She dodged him. “Was I interrupting something? My sincerest apologies.”
He grabbed at her again, this time with success. “Nothing I didn’t want interrupted. We’re leaving.”
He hauled her through the crowds and out the front door of the townhouse. “They know I haven’t marked you,” he said once they stood on the street.
“Yeah. That woman you were with in the hallway smelled me.”
Tensley waved to notify his driver they were ready to leave, clenching his jaw as the Aston Martin DB5 rolled up. “It was foolish on my part, yes. I miscalculated whether a certain someone would be in attendance, and if she’d get close enough to recognize my lack of scent.”
Molly’s eyebrow jumped. “So you’ve been close to this woman…”
“Get in the car,” he said, offering a hand to help her inside.
Her icy eyes studied him, big and glossy, tugging at heartstrings steeled long ago, ever since his brother’s volatile rages. The scars on his back tingled whenever he thought of that and reminded him what he could not be.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your night,” Molly said quietly.
He frowned at her and ignored the tightening in his chest. He wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself, but his anger was like a whip striking those closest. “It’s not you, it’s this whole fucking night. I’m ready for it to be over. Get in.”
As she entered the car, her delicious perfume tickled his nose, the alluring scent diverting his focus to the one place he most wanted his lips pressed up against in that moment: her delicate neck
. His demon side stirred viciously, craving to mark her, craving to claim her as his. He looked away, fear clawing at his throat. He had never wanted to mark anyone before—a demon’s way of claiming another for protection and the ultimate sign of a union—not Evelyn or any other woman he’d been with. No one had ever made him feel this way.
The desire shook him to the core.
He knew he was in trouble, because he was already addicted to it.
He needed control, and he needed it now.
They sat in silence the whole car ride, and he didn’t bother touching her. He was too angry with himself, with his society to do anything. Too pissed off to be gentle with her.
He was a beast. He didn’t trust himself to not devour her.
If he marked Molly Darling, he’d be damning them both.
“I’M STAYING THE night,” Tensley announced the moment they entered Molly’s apartment.
Uh, what?
Molly blinked at him and eyed her bedroom; the only way they’d fit on her twin mattress was if she were to lie on top of him.
Her cheeks flushed at the thought.
“On the couch,” he specified, perhaps mistaking her reddening face for anxiety instead of attraction.
She watched him scan the tiny apartment with a scowl. The kitchen hadn’t been updated since the eighties, and their ancient gas stove regularly malfunctioned, once even catching September’s hair on fire.
“Why do you live in this shithole?” Tensley mumbled, glaring at the worn couch he’d volunteered to sleep on. Stress was written all over his face; his lips were pursed, and a small wrinkle tracked between his brows. Molly wanted to smooth that stress away with her hands…with her mouth…to provide him with the healing energy he obviously needed.
Molly sighed. “Because I want my own space and freedom, and until I’ve graduated and make more than minimum wage, I’m perfectly content to live in this ‘shithole’.”
She threw her purse on the kitchen table next to her sizeable stack of schoolbooks. “Really, Tensley, I’ve been fine here the last few weeks on my own.”