The Jaded King (The Dark Kings Book 2)

by Jovee Winters

  I was lost in a haze of lust the likes of which I’d never known before. This wasn’t just a carnal distraction for me, because Betty was too strong, too powerful to let me forget for even a moment that she was right there with me. She slapped at me, tore at my hair, fused our mouths together until our teeth slammed against one another. There was nothing delicate about our joining.

  I felt her anger, and she took my own without question.

  “How dare you ever leave me!” she cried before dragging her claws down my already abused back.

  I hissed, bowing into the delicious pain, loving the fact that she seemed to know exactly how I liked it—a little sweet, but sharpened with a knife’s blade of violence and fire.

  Her long legs wrapped around my middle, and I was stunned yet again to find we were both stark-naked. It was like I was sleepwalking, and yet, I could just about anticipate her every move. Her tiny, heated sighs further engorged me, made me mad and insane with lust and more. So damn much more.

  I slammed my mouth over her left breast, circling my tongue over her turgid nipple, sucking on it like the sweetest of fruits, losing myself in the ecstasy of her cries.

  “Yes. Gods, yes, Gerard,” she moaned. “Like that. Just like that.”

  I nibbled. I suckled. I left a trail of bites around the curve of her breasts, leaving my mark, owning her. But knowing deep down that it wasn’t I who held the power right now. This was only an illusion. It had always been an illusion. She was the smaller of the two of us, but it was Betty that could destroy me with a word or a look. It was Betty that could kill me.

  But she wouldn’t. She never had. She never would, because her heart, her love, had been true. Pure. Perfect.

  I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed her heat, needed to feel gloved and hugged by her. I slipped deep inside her velvet warmth, making her gasp and cry out, making her fingers dig into my spine, and making me cry out along with her.

  Gods, she was soft and wet and so, so perfect. I’d never known better. Never felt better.

  Leaning up on my elbows, I framed her beloved face in my large hands and held perfectly still even as I felt her channel slowly flex and massage me. My words were thick and harsh as I whispered, “Are you okay?”

  Sweat coated her long hair, causing it to cling to her forehead and the side of her neck. Her heaving gasps hypnotized me, and I felt myself falling all over again, sliding into something I knew I could never get out of. Never walk away from. Never be without again.

  She didn’t answer me with words, only wrapped her arms tighter around my chest and squeezed. With a hungry moan, I began to move, unable to hold back a second longer.

  The friction between us was incredible, causing me to break out in a heated shiver. I squeezed my eyes shut, losing myself in the rhythm of sex—in and out, flexing and rolling my hips, moving in rhythm until she screamed or cried out when I hit a spot she loved, and doing it again and again until her thighs shook.

  It wasn’t always this way. I knew this.

  Not that I had much in the way of experience. Only the one time, with Belle. But there was a memory surging to the forefront—me, but a different me, hanging my head in my hands as partner after partner rolled out of my bed, each act leaving me colder and more dead inside than before.

  I’d known the pain and humiliation of feeling less than a man because the pleasure lasted less and less each time, and sometimes wasn’t there at all. Sometimes, I’d had to close my eyes and think of another to get it up at all. Other times, I’d imagined a dream woman, pure and lovely, who loved me, all of me, with her whole heart.

  That dream woman had become my lifeline, my savior. And then, I’d met her in truth, in a strange and terrifying new world. She’d been so different then, dark haired and distrustful of my intentions immediately.

  But why wouldn’t she have been? I’d been a rake. A cad. A terrible, terrible man. But she’d seen right through me. She’d seen through the disguise to the real and broken soul beneath, and she’d rebuilt me, made me see I was still worthy of love and to love in return.

  As I continued to slide deep into Betty’s warmth, past and present collided, exploding like a reel in my mind—the man I was, the man I am, the world that had been, the world that was now...

  My pleasure built and grew, as did hers. I fought to remain in the present, fought to stop thinking about the demons my mind was churning up, but they were crashing over me, drowning me. I saw myself as I’d been. I’d wounded many, destroyed families, and hurt my friends.

  My breathing deepened, the pleasure building now to near the point of pain.

  “Stay with me, Gerard,” she whispered, as if she sensed my demons. “Stay with me, ma moitié.” My other half.

  I shook my head. What was happening to me? How could she sense this? How could she know? But I already knew the answer.

  Terror beat its horrible wings inside me, stealing the breath from my lungs. This other me couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true. I hadn’t really done those things before. That would mean I’d had her, once, and then I’d lost and forgotten her. I couldn’t have forgotten her so easily. I just couldn’t have.

  But even as the terror began to spread and consume me, the pleasure would not end. I felt the climax building, felt myself near the verge of la petit mort.

  “Betty, I—”

  She covered my mouth with two of her fingers, quieting me. I opened my mouth, not sure what I meant to say, and she slipped her fingers inside. It was the most natural thing in the world for me to suckle them, to hear her hisses, her moans, and her sighs.

  My skin felt burned, my soul flayed wide and exposed. The panic and pleasure built and built. And then she stiffened in my arms, crying out to the rafters and disturbing a nesting flock of birds, startling them into flight.

  I roared as the orgasm finally ripped through me, bringing me to tears, wracking sobs that made me feel I might die from them. Words spilled off my tongue. I could not understand them at first, but they slowly began to break through until I could latch on to one or two.

  “Stay... forever... left...”

  Betty had scooted out from beneath me, and she had her knees tucked up to her chin, her arms wrapped around herself, and was shaking her head, telling me no over and over. I knew she should never, ever look like that, especially because of me. But the dam had burst wide open, and I couldn’t stop. Goddess help me, I couldn’t stop.

  I flipped between English and French. Pain poured out of me like a raging river. The target of my pain, of my rage, was her. Even as she trembled and shook, I damned myself ten thousand kinds of fool and screamed inwardly that I was messing it all up, that I was screwing up the very best thing that could ever and had ever happened to me.

  But still they came, one terrible word after another. A demon had been let loose, and there was no shoving that monster back until it had said what needed saying. I was outside of myself, watching it all happen. Watching myself destroy the only thing that could ever again bring me joy.

  By the time I’d finally finished, the only thing left inside me was shame and self-loathing. My brave, beautiful girl only looked up at me, tears gliding in slow motion down her lovely face.

  “What did I do?” I murmured thickly, voice breaking with my humiliation. I shoved my hands through my hair, shaking my head.

  Betty sat up on her knees, reaching out to me. Even after what I’d said, still she wanted to comfort me.

  “Non! NON!” I roared, and as mindless as the animal I now knew I was, I snatched up my clothes, turned on my naked heels, and ran as far and as fast as I could away from her.

  She deserved better than me, so much better than me. “My gods, what have I done?” I wailed into the darkness of night, grieving for what I’d lost, for the terrible human being I was, and for the woman who’d given me such joy and peace. I would treasure this night with her in my heart always.

  “I love you, Betty. I’m sorry. So sorry.” I heard her calling my name into t
he darkness, trying to bring me back. But I wouldn’t stop. She deserved better than someone like me. She deserved all things. Everything.

  And someday, she would get it. My heart broke because I knew it was true. She was too good, too pure to not find her joy again.

  But it couldn’t be with me. And that thought... it killed me to my very core. I wasn’t really an animal, but when I tipped my head back and stared at the heavy, silvery moon resting in the sky, a sound a lot like a deranged beast spilled off my tongue.

  Chapter 15

  Betty

  I’d understood him perfectly.

  Sitting in the dark, alone, holding on to my legs, I stared out into the night with lost and vacant eyes. How could this have happened?

  I still wasn’t even sure.

  I didn’t have the full memories of our past life completely pieced together, but I remembered enough—the love, the laughs, the tears of joy, and those of sorrow. Gerard had loved me so completely, opening himself up to me in a way that no one else would ever know from him.

  I sniffled as ghostly echoes of what he’d said continued to hammer at my skull.

  You promised me forever...

  I am lost...

  I am broken without you...

  You are my light, my joy, my world, and I do not know how to be without you...

  Why did you leave me, Betty? Why?

  How could I forget you? Forget what we had? How can I live with myself now? You deserve better, so much better than me...

  After that, he left. I wasn’t even sure if he knew what he’d said. There’d been a manic glow in his eyes. It was in that moment, when his heart bled for me, that I finally, truly understood what it was we’d lost.

  We hadn’t just lost love or happiness.

  We’d lost a part of our souls.

  All my life, I’d felt empty, like I was walking around with half a soul, half a life. If the world was a watercolor, then mine had been painted in shades of gray. Then Gerard had stepped in, and suddenly, it had all blazed to wonderful, glorious Technicolor.

  After tonight, I felt even more bonded to him. I felt the yawning void eating him up inside, felt the terrible aching loneliness sweeping through him, felt the recriminations and the self-loathing he now felt for what he’d done.

  But all I could feel for myself was the emptiness creeping back in. The color was leeching out of my world all over again, muting the shades that’d been so vibrant just moments ago. Soon, there’d be nothing left but black and white.

  I wanted to cry, but there were no tears in me. There never really had been.

  I’d never understood my lack of attachment to things. I loved my brother and Briley, but that was all I loved. Nothing else mattered. I’d thought myself a freak because when someone else could see a sunrise and marvel at the profound beauty of it, to me, it had only ever been the start of another monotonous and unchanging day. A day in which nothing would change, in which everything was doomed to forever remain the same, a day in which I felt nothing at all.

  For so long, I’d looked for the thing that would give me joy, but I’d never found it. So I’d finally decided I was broken, a defective model, and that it was never going to change for me. I’d grown to accept my fate and had eked out a kind of contentment that had worked for me.

  But it wasn’t going to work anymore. I could never forget what life had felt like, could never go back to the way things had been. I knew the taste of happiness, now. How could I ever be expected to survive without it?

  There was a sudden tightening in the air around me and then a snap and pop. I glanced up, heart blazing with a furious flickering of hope, only to be instantly squashed when I saw it wasn’t Gerard there, but a brown-haired woman with wings. Only when I looked into her kindly blue eyes did I realize it was the same woman who’d opened up my eyes in the hut, despite her altered appearance.

  Seeing Danika, my fairy godmother, caused a dam to burst loose in me, and the tears that had been choking me overflowed. The sounds I made were broken and full of devastation. A second later, she flicked her wand at me. A shimmering veil of glowing magenta surrounded me, making me feel as though I’d just stepped inside of a wet sauna. I vaguely noted that she’d redressed me, and then she pulled me into her arms and murmured that I would be okay. That I just needed to believe. That all was not lost.

  Just believe.

  Believe.

  I sobbed, wailing as my soul continued to shrivel deep inside me. Every step he took away from me felt like a physical blow. I was losing him. Or I’d lost him. Or maybe I’d never had him at all.

  At that, I cried even harder, shaking with all over body spasms. “It... it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  “No. No.” She shook her head, patting my hair. “No, my darling. It wasn’t. But don’t give up on him. Don’t give up on the magic of true love, Betty. You must believe. It’s the only way.”

  Sniffing, I wiped at my swollen red nose with the back of my hand and shook my head. “He left me then, too. I remember. He left me, and I was devastated.”

  She frowned, cocking her head, making me think of a tiny bird in her strange little gown that looked like it had been fashioned from thousands of pearly white feathers.

  “He didn’t leave you, Betty. Not then, and not now. He’s scared. I know him, and so do you. This Gerard and that one are the same, though they are so very different.”

  I yanked on her hands, clasping them so tight that my knuckles whitened. “Tell me what I can’t remember, Danika, please. Make this better. Please tell me he’ll return.”

  She swallowed hard, and a terrible groaning sound vibrated through my chest. “He won’t come back, will he?”

  She shook her head. “Now, I didn’t say that, girl. You must stop imagining the worst. You must try and remain calm and level-headed and remember who you know him to be.”

  “But I don’t know him at all!”

  She scowled. “Now, that’s not true and you know it. You know the truest parts of him, the real man beneath the wounded armor. The sad fact is you’ve found him at the very lowest and worst moment of his life. A man like Gerard might look strong, powerful, and mighty, but he is delicate and fragile. His love is not given lightly, and once betrayed, it is a terrible grief for him to overcome.”

  “But I’m not like her!”

  She nodded. “I know that, dear, as does he. Just give him time.”

  I was tired, vexed, sore and, honestly, done. I needed space. I needed time to think, to examine whether I even wanted to be here anymore. I had a life back home and a family. They needed me.

  Gerard was a big boy. He’d be fine. And I was done trying to understand a world I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be part of.

  When I turned my gaze back to Danika, I knew she had read all those thoughts in my eyes because she shook her head and gasped. “No, child. Don’t do this.”

  Closing my eyes, I shuddered and picked up a piece of straw, holding it between my fingers. “I need to get away from him. Far away.”

  “Then... then let me choose.”

  “Why do you care so much? Maybe not everyone is supposed to have a happily ever after. Maybe sometimes lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

  “No!” She gave her head one firm shake, causing her fat curls to bob prettily around her face. “No. I refuse to accept that because I have too much to lose if that’s true. Give me a chance to prove to you, Betty Hart, that sometimes all you need is a little bit of faith, patience, and a sprinkling of fairy dust.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I could see that she believed what she was saying, and I wished I could say I did, too. But there was so little color left now. I felt cold again. Empty. I now understood what I was missing, and I felt like I might die from the lack of it.

  “Fine. I don’t care. I just—”

  “No!” a male voice thundered, bringing me instantly to my feet as I hugged my belly and shook my head.

  It was Norman Bates, and he
was staring down at Danika with fury burning bright in his glowing red eyes. I shivered, knowing this man wasn’t human or even anything close to it.

  He scared me. I didn’t like him at all.

  “No! You can’t do this, Danika, you can’t. Do you hear me! I was told. This will work, it will—”

  “It did!” she snarled and whirled on him, gripping her wand, which now sparked red flecks from its tip. “Can’t you sense the child? You’ve got what you wanted. You got exactly what you wanted!”

  Norman, who’d been a raging tower of fury just seconds ago, rocked back on his heels as his gaze shifted to me. For a second, I thought he was going to bum-rush me. I saw the way his legs tensed, the way his hands fisted by his sides. His gaze longingly caressed my stomach, and that was when I finally understood what Danika had said.

  “Wh-what?”

  She looked at me with kindness and sorrow. “You are with child, Betty. Gerard’s child. Your child. The one you lost and had forgotten.”

  I sucked in a sharp, trembling breath as I laid a hand against my flat stomach. I had no child. I would remember that. I would. I—

  Bright red hair. Clear blue eyes. Skin as pale as porcelain.

  “I love you, Mother...”

  With an inarticulate cry, I dropped down to the ground, heaving and sobbing as memories of a beautiful girl skipped and danced through my head. There was so much laughter and love in her that the colors were starting to come back again, painting the darkness in pastel hues, light and wispy, but back again. I had my colors back.

  I cried silent tears as I hugged my middle and whispered, “My baby.”

  Norman Bates dropped to his knees and held out a hand to me, looking as broken as I had felt just seconds ago.

  I shook my head as a terrible sense of foreboding whipped all the way through me. “Why do you care about my child? What is she to you?”

  Danika opened her mouth, but Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her and hissed as though to silence her. Danika looked down her pert nose at him and said in a steady voice, “His aim is to take her.”