Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1)

by Sparrow Beckett

  She eyed the ornate dresser with trepidation. It seemed too nice to keep things in, to the point where just touching it without museum inspection gloves felt as if it might be sacrilege. The wardrobe was just as bad, but her suitcase was too much of an eyesore to leave out. Without other alternatives, she unzipped her case and put things away. She really hadn’t brought much that seemed classy enough for this place. Not that she owned much that was classy. Both Church and Ms Sutton had that understated, clean-lined and casual way of dressing that screamed money. So they weren’t servants? They were, more or less, his family? Church had called Severin his brother.

  So, poor little damaged rich boy had been adopted by the people who were supposedly just the help. It would have made for an awesome Hallmark feel-good movie if he were a sweet child rather than a fully grown asshat.

  A scuff sounded nearby, and she turned. Severin was standing in the hallway outside her door, his dark brows drawn low over his cold blue eyes. Her heart kicked into overtime, and she had to push away the fight or flight instinct. Every instinct she had screamed that she was in danger.

  He was clean now, dressed in a loose T-shirt and torn jeans, his feet bare. How the man managed to find a T-shirt that was loose on him was a mystery. Fuck, he was huge. Now that his arms were clean, the tattoos were more eye-catching. And how had she missed the septum piercing? The man looked heart-stoppingly evil.

  “Hi?” she said, watching him. She didn’t fake a smile. He didn’t seem the type to respond well to fake.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” That voice again. So low, she was pretty sure it shook the floor or maybe it was her shaking.

  She swallowed, trying to compose herself. “No? Ms. Sutton hired me.”

  “I don’t need a fucking nanny.”

  It was almost impossible not to imagine him with dripping fangs and raised hackles. The tattoos snaked up his neck in places, and they were hard not to stare at. His face was much more menacing than his artwork, and his eyes commanded her attention even as they made her want to avert her gaze.

  “Of course you don’t need a nanny,” she replied. The man looked like he could explode in a fit of rage at any given second and snap her neck without a second thought. “Ms. Sutton was hoping I could help out around here, and that maybe you’d find me tolerable.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, the coldness of his gaze making her want to shiver. “What kind of parents name their kid Minnow?”

  She snorted, knowing he’d meant to insult her, but not giving him the satisfaction. Did he really think a woman her age would get flustered about her name? This wasn’t grade school.

  “Religious people. Quasi-hippies. Think Godspell.” She leaned a shoulder on the bedpost and crossed her arms, trying to look nonchalant instead of slightly terrified. “I’m lucky they decided against Sunnybrook. Sounds like a retirement village.”

  He arched a brow and walked away.

  “Oookay. Bye,” she called out rudely after him, wondering why she was trying to bait him rather than cowering. Some sort of death wish, maybe.

  Chapter Two

  There was a stranger in his space.

  He paced his room like a trapped animal, hating the waiting time until dinner even more today than he usually did. Fucking Church had gone to his wife and family for the rest of the day, and Sutton had already made it clear the girl was staying for at least a week. He wasn’t that messy. There was no reason why Sutton needed backup. She kept saying she was getting old, but she was exactly the same as she had been when she came to live with him and Church after their other mother died.

  Yeah, Mom was dead, and eventually Sutton would be too. They all left. Even Church had moved out, even though there was plenty of room in the house for him and Ilse and the kids. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a dick to Ilse they would have tried it, but that was water under the bridge now. No way to fix it, even though she’d long since forgiven him. Probably.

  He’d told Sutton, though, that if she had to bring in someone, it needed to be a man. Women were weird and flighty and got all prissy about things. This one was afraid of him, he could tell. Surprising she hadn’t run for the door yet. The thought of the way she’d watched him, as if he was a mugger in a dark alley, annoyed him. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

  Finally the bell rang, and he headed downstairs, deliberately not looking into the girl’s room when he passed.

  “What was that bell for?” she asked as he strode by.

  “Dinner,” he muttered.

  Great. She was stupid.

  “I think I’m overdressed.” From the tap of her shoes on the marble, she was following directly behind him.

  His back straightened. She was too close.

  He stepped into an alcove, and gestured for her to go first. It was good manners, but it was also easier to keep distance between them.

  Although she moved past him, she glanced uneasily at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide and nervous. Her long dark hair was pretty, and he couldn’t help but let his gaze drift down to the lush curves of her figure in the blue wrap dress. Her ass was...

  He jerked up his gaze, but the damage had been done.

  She needed to leave.

  When she passed the breakfast room and headed for the dining room he didn’t correct her.

  “Did you see Minnow on your way down?” Sutton asked, placing a serving bowl on the table as he entered the room.

  “She went to the dining room.”

  “You could have told her we eat in here.”

  “If she’s too stupid to figure it out, she can starve.”

  “Quit being a jackass and go get her.”

  “Fine.”

  He was about to step out of the room when the girl collided with his chest and bounced off. He didn’t bother trying to catch her, and she ended up on the floor, which would have been funny if the sight of her blinking up at him hadn’t come with a gratuitous flash of thigh. She looked shocked, her face pink and her lips parted. The top of her dress gaped slightly, giving him a healthy view of cleavage.

  “Severin!” Sutton barked.

  He held out a hand, but Minnow rose without touching him, which he approved of.

  “Apologize,” Sutton prompted.

  Why was she so damned determined this one needed to work out? He didn’t want this one. “I’m sorry you’re so off balance. I figured that with your build you’d be harder to tip.”

  Sutton tsked at him, but the girl’s eyes narrowed.

  “Running into a brick wall will make even the curviest of women tip over, Mister Leduc,” she replied smoothly. “And if you want to insult me, you’re going to have to try harder than making fun of my name and my figure.” She smoothed her dress, and he had to force himself not to follow the enticing path of her hands.

  He ignored her and waited by his chair until Sutton and the girl had taken their seats before he sat too.

  They filled their plates and ate in silence for a few minutes while he surreptitiously watched the girl.

  “At least she has decent table manners,” he eventually conceded to Sutton.

  Sutton glowered at him. There was no making the woman happy some days.

  “What?”

  “You’d do well to watch her manners and try to emulate them.”

  He finished his last bite and belched. “Why?”

  “So I could have a pleasant meal for once before I die?”

  They glared at each other. “You’re not allowed to die, remember?”

  “Yes, I know. Too hard to train new help.”

  He frowned at his empty plate, hating when she talked like this.

  “The chicken was really good,” he said, waiting.

  Sutton sighed then nodded at him. He was on his feet and out the door before he had to make more conversation.

  *

  Church lingered in the doorway of the forge. Severin could feel him watching, but he didn’t acknowledge him at first. It had been a long night lying in bed
with her two doors down, trying not to imagine what she slept in. Women were too damned distracting, and this morning the handlebars he worked on weren’t cooperating.

  “Is this one going to be ready on time?”

  He glanced up at Church and his brother’s half smile as he looked over the Frankenbike was enough approval to let him know he was on the right track. Church had always been his biggest fan as well as his biggest critic.

  “Does it matter? If it’s not ready, they’ll wait.”

  “Rodrigo would give you hell for saying that.”

  “Rodrigo is in France,” Severin reminded him. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, you can’t rush this shit.”

  ‘This shit’ being his art.

  “It’s cold without the forge going in here.”

  “You’re getting soft in your old age,” Severin said, grinning to himself. Church threw a punch, and Severin deflected it with one hand while he put the metal he was working on down on one of his workbenches. “See? Soft.”

  They tussled, and eventually he got Church down on the ground, but then they fought to see who could pin whom. Church was leaner, and almost a head shorter, but he knew all of Severin’s tricks and weaknesses, and he was still well muscled, especially for an old married guy.

  “Good thing I didn’t wear anything nice out here. Ilse will kill me if I rip another shirt.”

  “How are the kids?” he asked, kneeing Church in the groin – not hard, just firmly enough to make him squawk.

  “Fuck off!” Church shoved him off and he rolled onto his back next to him. “We want more than two, so watch the jewels.”

  “So that’s how you end up so dirty,” a female voice came. “I should have guessed.”

  Severin cut his gaze to Church, but rather than tell her they were having a private conversation, his brother got up and brushed himself off.

  “Hey, Minnow. Settling in okay?” He smiled, the white of his teeth dazzling against his dark skin.

  The girl smiled back at Church. “Yes, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a bed that comfortable before.”

  Severin rolled up onto his feet and headed back into the garage, leaving them to their conversation. He slid his welding gear back on, grabbed his tig torch and filler rod then finished a few welds. By the time he pushed his mask up, Church was alone, standing just inside the door.

  “For fuck’s sakes, Sev, you’re not even trying,” Church grumbled, moving closer.

  Severin stepped back from his project and pulled his mask off to get a better look at what he’d just done. “Is it that bad?”

  “Not the handlebars, fuckwad.”

  “What? That little cunt Sutton hired? I’ve barely said a word to her.”

  Church scowled at him. “Minnow is a nice girl. She needs this job. You know Sutton won’t keep her on if you don’t make nice with her.”

  Anger and discomfort made Severin hunch his shoulders. “I am being nice.”

  “No. You’re being marginally less of a dick than you were to Todd.”

  “You couldn’t stand that prick either, so don’t even go there.”

  Church grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to Severin.

  “Beer? It’s not even noon.” Severin arched a brow.

  “Am I insulting your delicate sensibilities, your majesty?”

  Severin cracked open his beer and took a swig. There was only one reason why Church would be feeding him beer this early in the day. “So what is it this time? You sign me up for another therapy group?”

  “No, no. Not that.”

  He relaxed a fraction. As long as it wasn’t that, he didn’t give a shit.

  “Then quit being a pussy and spill it.”

  “You need to give Minnow a chance. We’re running out of options.”

  “Options for what?”

  “You have to make your world bigger, Sev.”

  “It’s big enough,” he growled. How many times did he have to veto this damned conversation before they understood he was serious? “Leave if you want to leave. You can’t buy me a fucking family to replace you. I’m fine with quiet.”

  “Ha.” Church chugged his beer and banged it down on the workbench. “Do you remember what happened when Ilse and I went away on our honeymoon? We were gone a month, and you ended up in jail again.”

  Severin shuddered and swallowed more beer. “That won’t happen anymore.” Sharing a cell had been worse than solitary. He’d learned his lesson – not that he had to stop beating people because it was wrong, but he had to stop beating people because they’d force him to live in a small space with people he couldn’t get away from.

  “Will you try, for me?” Church asked. “Just have a few conversations with her where you honestly try to be nice.”

  “So what – I’m nice to her and then what happens next? We become BFFs and do each other’s nails? I don’t know anything about women. What do they even talk about?”

  Church rolled his eyes. “What do you talk to Sutton about?”

  He shrugged. “Welding? What we should have for dinner? Her misguided desire for more hellion grandchildren from you?”

  “You never talk to her about music or TV or anything?”

  “Sometimes. Maybe we host big fucking block party barbecues when you’re not here and invite all the fucking neighbors. You’d know if you still lived here.”

  “Kids grow up and move out. It’s just how things work.”

  “I know that.” He also knew he didn’t have to like it. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “I’ve accepted a job offer in Virginia.”

  His heart stuttered to a halt. “Virginia.”

  “Vox Vogel. It’s my dream job, Sev. I wouldn’t have said yes if it wasn’t. I went to school for a million years to become an architect, and I can’t make all of my life decisions around keeping you in your comfort zone.”

  Severin nodded. He wanted to ask how often he’d come back, but knew better. Once Church was gone he wouldn’t be back. It was funny how the knowledge that Church would eventually leave hadn’t kept him safe. He’d let him in. Loved him. Panic tried to surface, but he stuffed it down.

  Stop.

  The feelings got iced.

  It wasn’t love. It was just habit.

  Severin was used to having him around, but he’d get over it.

  “Your entire world has shrunk down to just Sutton, Rodrigo, and me. It’s not healthy.” They’d had this conversation so many times that it had its own script. “You should have gone to high school with me in town. Home schooling yourself out here was a mistake. You shouldn’t have been alone so much.”

  Severin wanted him to leave for Virginia now – to get it over with – but somehow he kept up his end of the conversation. Weakness was never rewarded. “There’s nothing wrong with home schooling.”

  “No, but you were alone too much, man. You’re fucking weird. You haven’t been socialized.”

  Socialized? That made him want to laugh, but he didn’t trust himself not to sound crazy. “I’m not a dog. I rarely bite unless provoked.”

  “Oh, you’re a dog. You’re just not a pet dog. You’re like the stray at the pound that no one is comfortable sending home with a family.”

  “So they sent me to a farm to live out my days chained to the garage. Someone feeds me and makes sure I don’t freeze to death. Yeah, I get the analogy. It’s pretty much my life. Someone should have put me down by now.” It would hurt him if he had feelings, but he’d outgrown that shit a long time ago. Everyone knew he’d been thrown away. Years of other people’s obnoxious pity had thickened his skin.

  “It always comes back to this. What they did to you was wrong. It was fucked up. You act like this to get back at them, but they don’t fucking care – they don’t even know. So in the end the only person you’re punishing is yourself and the people who love you here and now.” Church’s dark eyes were full of rage. “Even when I was a little kid I knew this whole situatio
n was a shitshow. Now that I’m a father, I can’t even wrap my head around it. You never deserved any of this, Sev. Don’t let them fucking win.” He got up and moved toward Severin, but one look from Sev stalled him in his tracks.

  He watched Church, wary he’d come closer, but his brother knew not to touch him without permission, even now. Part of him wanted the affection, but he couldn’t handle it today.

  “They always win,” Severin finally said, putting his beer bottle on its side on the workbench and spinning it. Easier to occupy himself rather than see the raw emotion in Church’s eyes. Not when he was having so much trouble keeping himself in check.

  “Only because you let them.”

  *

  Footsteps.

  He was sitting up in bed, heart pounding, before he realized he was awake.

  Nightmare?

  Listening hard, he closed his eyes, willing the feeling that came with the sound to go away. Yes, footsteps, but quiet ones. No one wandered the house at night, so it had to be the girl.

  He rose from bed and followed the sound of her footfalls. Someone needed to inform the girl of the house rules.

  Blue light spilled into the hall from the screening room, but the sound was muted.

  “Why are you in here?” he asked as he stepped into the room.

  Her eyes went wide. “I...” She seemed to be at a loss for words as her gaze darted shyly from his face, then dipped to his torso – naked above his jeans – the jerked away to the plasma screen.

  “You...” he prompted. Despite the coolness of the house, she wore a tank top and short shorts. The press of her cold-hardened nipples against the thin fabric of her shirt made it difficult for him to stay focused on her face.

  She gripped the television remote as though it was a lifeline.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d watch something for a few minutes.” She moistened her lips, and he narrowly avoided looking at them.

  He needed to get rid of the light in the room before his gaze slipped down to her body. He was already trying not to consider what it would feel like to touch her.

  “There’s a TV in your room.” He took the remote and glanced at the screen. Before bed he’d been watching the movie channel, so of course, at this time of night, there was porn playing. The woman on the screen was giving an enthusiastic blowjob. He raised a brow at Minnow, as though she’d turned porn on deliberately, and her cheeks turned pink. He hit last on the remote, and it switched to Discovery before he shut it off.