Seducing Chaos

by Luna Quinn

  Far from angry, there was a teasing quality to this argument that felt like it had a familiar rhythm.

  “You could have died, you big bastard. You can’t—” Sin said, stumbling over the word died before his voice cut off.

  At his words, they froze as a group.

  Sasha broke the silence, though her words were soft. “Are you all right, Sin?”

  Sin cleared his throat, a shadow falling over his face. “No. But I will be.” Shaking his head, he seemed to push back his emotions. She knew from experience that holding such strong feelings back could be dangerous, but she was in no positon to tell Sin how to react.

  Sin turned his glare back to Edge, brotherly concern still written over his features. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “I didn’t die.” Edge responded easily. The solemn mood seemed to have passed for now.

  “Yeah, by some fucking miracle. You broke the rules, E.”

  Razor snorted. “Yes, he did. Had I known using Hellfire was an option tonight, I would have scorched the place down the instant Valtu grabbed Sasha.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have,” Edge countered, voice tired. “You had no idea she was immune to our Hellfire. None of us did. You wouldn’t have risked it.”

  Razor pressed his lips together in annoyance. “It still would have been nice to know the rules didn’t matter.”

  “They still matter,” Edge snapped impatiently. “Now let it go. All of you.”

  Night sighed, then chuckled. “Poor Razor, he just wanted to be Sasha’s hero tonight. Slighted out of the title again, eh, brother?” Leave it to Night to really lighten the mood.

  “Shut it, Night,” Sin said, coming to Razor’s defense.

  Razor bared his fangs, but was clearly fighting a grin. “I swear, Night—”

  “You’re seriously going to fight about this? Now?” Sasha cut in, incredulous, eyeing the destroyed club, all the blood, and the injured.

  Night limped over from his spot, clapping a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. A grin split across his too pale, busted up face. “Welcome to the family. Better get used to it, Sis.”

  Sasha couldn’t help her laughter in response as she looked at the men who were now her brothers, and smiled brightly up at the man who was now her mate. Not everything was perfect, but she’d been given a second chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

  Epilogue

  A month later, Razor was back in his bedroom at the Night House, his weapons spread out on the bed.

  As he finished adjusting the leather harness around his bare torso and attached his saber claws to it, the events of the last month flashed through his mind, starting with Sasha.

  He was mated, for fuck’s sake. She was his forever.

  The thought still made his stomach flutter. Not once had he ever believed he would actually have her, much less keep her. But she loved him, and he sure as fuck loved her. With everything that he was, he adored her. And although it might have taken them centuries to come to this point, the journey had been fucking worth it. He was happier than he’d ever been.

  The only thing that marred his new life was Luka’s death.

  Two days after the fight with Valtu, with Sin’s help, they’d found Luka’s decomposing body in a hole under the floorboards of his home. His head had been separated from his body. Sin had finally let himself mourn after that. They’d all mourned.

  Luka and Sin might not have been mated the way Razor and Sasha were, but love had been there.

  Later that night, after they had burned Luka on the traditional funeral pyre, Sin had confessed that Luka had been acting differently days before the attack. That was undoubtedly due to the fact that it had no longer been his Luka, but Valtu in glamour. Razor knew that his baby brother was beating himself up about not having put two and two together sooner. But Valtu had made sure that the price she had paid for the glamour spell guaranteed that, even with all their heightened senses, none of the Hellhounds would been able to tell the difference between the real Luka and Valtu.

  Still, Sin believed he should have seen it. I slept with that thing for several nights, for fuck’s sake, he had snarled, anger and guilt burning in his eyes.

  His brother had closed himself off after that, hardly leaving H.O.T. It would take time, but Razor knew Sin would be okay. Eventually.

  For now, they had left him to grieve in peace. Luka was lost to them, but Sin wasn’t.

  Life in Shadow Realm in the past month hadn’t been easy for anyone.

  The people of Shadow Realm were spooked. With good reason. No one wanted to know how this infiltration had happened more than Razor and his brothers. With Sasha’s help, he had been trying to keep peace out on the streets since the news of the attack broke. The citizens were demanding an explanation and reassurance that something like it would never happen again. They’d lost friends and family since Valtu had put her plan into action, and he more than understood their frustrations. But rioting and pillaging would not be tolerated; he’d made that clear.

  The Shifter packs were another thing that needed fixing. The packs relied on structure, and with their alpha gone, they were slowly growing more and more agitated. Fights were breaking out for leadership, but with Luka’s death having been so abrupt, the natural order had been disrupted, and it apparently threw everyone off. No one knew where to start the search for a new alpha. If they didn’t find one soon, it would only get worse.

  Curling his hand around the hilt of a blade, Razor thought back to the minutes immediately following the fight with Valtu.

  They’d all begun the clean-up of the club…and the body count. At least the ones that hadn’t been burned out of existence by the Hellfire. Anyone who could lend a hand had helped. Sasha, Locke, and Archer had moved around silently collecting the souls of the dead.

  It had taken days for Edge to fully recover from using the Hellfire, but he hadn’t slowed down for a minute. Of course, no one dared to suggest he sit or take a few more hours of rest. Not even Night.

  It had been a reminder of why using Hellfire was so dangerous. Like magic, it demanded a price that was usually too steep to even consider. It could destroy anything in its path, sure, but the payment it claimed was usually deadly. Using too much too quickly could mean draining your life force. All that mattered was that Sasha was safe and his, and that his brothers and friends were alive. Shadow Realm was still theirs, and Valtu was, hopefully, dead.

  Beyond that, they were all still wondering where all the missing young girls were. If Valtu had only taken the souls of the bodies she’d dumped, where were the ones still missing? Between Xavier and Sin’s research, the list of the missing still left about fifteen unaccounted for.

  Sighing deeply, Razor shook the thoughts away and refocused on his task. Double checking that he had everything he needed, he searched for the small wooden box he’d picked up from the Dwarf merchant who specialized in items from the Underworld. He found it on the dresser.

  In front of the long mirror behind the door to his bathroom, he opened the box, eyeing the paint inside. He hadn’t done this in centuries. Not since living in the Underworld. And even then, the reason for using it tonight was slightly different. It felt necessary, though. He needed it in order to appease the wrath he’d bottled up all those weeks ago. It hadn’t been the time then.

  Dipping a finger into the black paint, Razor brought it up to his face and began to draw a series of lines on his cheeks and chin. The symbols of a challenger.

  The paint was made from the Death Iris, indigenous to the one part of the Underworld that was supposed to be hostile to all plants, the Pit. No one knew how the flower could grow as abundantly as it did there.

  Scooping up the white paint, he used three fingers and placed them at the tip of his shoulders. He drew them down to the middle of his chest, then repeated the design on the other shoulder.

  When he was finished, he put the box aside and surveyed his work. Unpleasant memories of his life in the Underworld threatened to come
forth, of the many challengers Razor and his brothers had had to face, all for Erummon’s entertainment.

  Razor took in his booted feet, the dark pants, his bare chest with its collection of tattoos, and the markings he’d just made.

  He was ready. Anticipation swirled. No one besides Bek knew of Razor’s intentions tonight.

  Making his way out of his room, he mentally readied himself as much as one could for a battle to the death.

  As he entered the club, he spotted Edge, Night, Sin, and Sasha sitting up on the dais. All the Sector commanders were sitting on a lower tier that went around the dais. It was a good visual representation of the chain of command, Razor would give Night that.

  When they spotted him, his brothers’ expressions showed that they’d caught onto what was going on. They didn’t look happy, but when they remained seated, it became obvious they weren’t going to stop him. Sasha gave him a quizzical look, but didn’t make a move to stop him, either.

  Good girl. My beautiful mate.

  He had been afraid that she’d try to come down and ask him what the fuck, and then maybe punch him in the face when he’d told her his plan. She surprised him by staying where she was, trusting him.

  The room quieted down as he reached the center. With his instructions, Miguel had created an arena-type space in the center of the club. The platform where Shadow Realm leadership sat looked down on the space, just the way Razor had asked.

  Before anyone could ask what the hell was going on, the front door crashed open, and Bek sauntered in. His seven-foot-tall frame dwarfed everyone in attendance. Which was a lot—the club was standing room only tonight.

  This is a good thing, Bek had assured him. It gives people a reason to cheer. To know that through the Hellhounds, vengeance is still within their grasp.

  Bek was dragging a chain behind him as he casually made his way in. Razor smiled with fangs as he spotted what was at the end of the chain.

  It had taken weeks to track him down.

  When Bek met Razor’s gaze, his friend tugged on the chain. Castor, the filthy Vampire, cursed at the end of the chain.

  “I have a gift for you, my friend,” Bek said, bowing.

  “I accept your gift, Dragon,” Razor replied, following the tradition as closely as possible.

  He had thought this through for days, and of the possible downsides of going forward with his plan. He knew of Castor’s role in the slums, or what it was supposed to be before Castor had betrayed all the kids he was meant to be protecting. With that in mind, Razor had gone to all the street kids the Vampire had “sponsored,” and informed them that Castor was going to be leaving this world very soon. None had been too upset. Maybe it had been wrong of him to be so blunt, but who was he kidding, these kids had seen and heard it all.

  He’d informed them that his Sasha would be their new sponsor. To his relief, after Hailie had unintentionally opened the way for her, Sasha had gained the title of “the nice lady” amongst the slum kids. It really hadn’t taken much to get them to agree to her protection. He hadn’t told Sasha yet, but he was sure she wouldn’t hate the idea. She had a soft spot for those kids, and he would use it to his advantage if it meant getting to snuff the light out from Castor’s eyes.

  Realization seemed to dawn on Castor when he caught sight of Razor. His gaze followed the markings, and for an instant, Razor could see the fear in his eyes. But to his credit, the Vampire quickly replaced it with contempt.

  “You must have put up quite the fight for Bek to have chained you,” Razor said as Bek led Castor to the middle of the arena.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Castor looked up at the dais, shaking the chains. “Is this legal, Edge?”

  “You bet your ass it is,” Razor answered him. He knew that if Edge had deemed it illegal, he would have stopped it the minute he had read Razor’s intentions.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Castor spat, looking back at the dais.

  Razor bared his fangs. “Fuck this. Castor, for your crimes against Hailie, for your involvement with Valtu, for your neglect of the children you were supposed to be caring for, and for Sasha, I challenge you.”

  “For Sasha? Really? For what, calling her a whore?” Castor only laughed while Razor snarled. “It wasn’t a lie. But I guess she’s your whore now, right?” the bastard continued, looking back up at the dais. “Why aren’t you stopping this?”

  “It’s not illegal,” Edge finally answered him. “Just not the usual type of challenge. As anyone who is old enough to remember, Death Challenges are common in our homeland. There is no law that says we can’t bring traditions with us. This will be the first Death Challenge in Shadow Realm history.”

  Gabriel, the Vampire clan leader, stood up then. He looked almost eager. “Castor, you have been challenged. Edge has stated it is a legitimate challenge, and I agree. Now give your fucking answer.” He bared his fangs.

  A pregnant pause passed through the massive crowd. Castor’s lips thinned as his gaze shot fire at Razor.

  Come on, you bastard. Accept.

  According to the rules of a Death Challenge, which were slightly different from the ones they already followed in Shadow Realm, you could only challenge a person once. If they declined, you could never challenge them again. So if Castor didn’t accept the challenge, there was nothing Razor could do about it. At least not if they were sticking to the rules. And they would. Razor’s honor wouldn’t allow him to cheat.

  Death Challenges were primarily used to battle for titles and positions within the Underworld, and ended only when one of the two fighters was dead.

  With a sneer, Castor finally said, “I accept.”

  “Good man,” Razor said, the hunger for the other man’s blood singing through his veins.

  Motioning to Bek, he said, “Assist him with weapons.”

  As Bek led a now unchained Castor to the weapons room, he returned his gaze to the dais, and to Sasha.

  Moving closer to the platform, he placed a fist over his heart, kneeling on one knee and bowing his head. “For my mate’s honor, and for those who can’t speak tonight, I fight this day. And although I know my Sasha is a strong warrior and can fight her own battles,” he said with conviction, his body pulsing with more adrenaline, “this fight I take for myself.”

  On the dais, Edge, Sin, Night, and the rest of the commanders stood up, fist over heart. “I accept, and the final outcome I shall enforce, with my strength and my sword, from those who would try to contest it.” They all spoke, one after the other.

  Sasha stood last, Razor’s heart thundering in his chest. Her corkscrew curls were gone, replaced with braids. Half of them were pulled up into an elaborate updo while the rest hung loosely down her back. She looked so regal and calm, even though he could feel her tension through their bond. As she moved to the edge of the platform, he noted that she fit perfectly up there.

  “I accept, and the final outcome I shall enforce,” his mate repeated, “with my strength and my sword, from those who would try to contest it.”

  Then her pretty face lit up with saucy smile, and she added, “Now go kick some ass, Hellhound.”

  Razor laughed. “Yes, my Reaper.” He winked at her before taking his position in the center of the ring.

  By the time he held Castor’s head in his hand, the Vampire’s unseeing eyes open in shock, he would have said the battle had lasted a week. Castor had been a worthy opponent, and had fought savagely until his last breath.

  Razor’s chest heaved as he howled in triumph. There were cheers and whistles coming from everywhere around him. His name was being chanted, his body pulsing with adrenaline and pain. He knew he had cuts and bruises and was bleeding everywhere, but all he was focused on was the female sitting on the dais.

  His Sasha. His mate. The owner of his heart.

  He moved through the crowd, excited voices cheering and hands touching him. But he never took his eyes off his prize. He could hear the low rumble coming from his own chest as he climbed u
p the platform.

  As he made his way to Sasha, her eyes were bright, and her lips parted in what he could feel was part exhilaration, part arousal. Her legs were crossed, and he noticed how she pressed them together. She wanted him. Right there on the platform.

  He grinned with bloody fangs. She’d get her way. Razor lived to spoil her, even if she smacked him across the back of the head whenever he overdid it.

  When he stood before her, he dropped Castor’s head right at her feet. It rolled until it stopped against her boots.

  She didn’t even glance at it, her heated gaze glued to Razor’s face.

  “For you.” The sound was more a growl than actual words, but she understood him.

  She gave him the hottest look on the face of New Earth before getting up and sauntering to him. “If you’re done defending my honor, I’d like to go fuck now.”

  He laughed, even as desire licked up his balls to the tip of his dick.

  Leaning close, she put her lips close to his ear. “And next time, if there is a next time, I’ll kick your ass if you don’t let me in that ring with you.”

  Razor chuckled darkly, licking his lips in anticipation of the kiss he’d been dying to give her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his body. “And I’ll be cheering you on, pretty girl.”

  The End

  Acknowledgements

  Yajaira:

  This book wouldn’t have been possible without Britt. Three years ago, she said we would publish this book, and even while I believed our ideas were good, I still doubted I would be able to be help write something this great. Even now that it’s done, I still have a hard time believing I had a hand in its creation. I love you, brat.

  Thanks to Karin Tabke, who read one of my writing samples several years ago. Her positive words motivated me to keep writing.

  I can never say thank you enough to Melissa and Jeanne for all their help and enthusiasm for this story.