Chapter Thirty-Two
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Henri
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SEPTEMBER
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THE GAMES ALL BLURRED TOGETHER.
Topaz Torment pushed both our limits.
But we survived.
But then there was Moonstone Marks. Then Amber Lashes. Citrine Cuts, Opal Welts, and Quartz Scream.
On and on and on.
Victor had an endless amount of sick and twisted entertainment. On top of the porn put on every night and another treasure hunt he organised on the night of a full moon, he kept us all very busy.
Luckily, Ily and I had already discussed what we’d do if we had to play that particular game again. We didn’t speak as Victor chased the jewels out of his castle with a loaded pistol then gave the Masters permission to hunt.
Ily went straight to the recycling shed by the kitchens.
She took Mollie and Rachel with her.
Peter refused.
He preferred to run with the others, doing his best to put himself in danger over them.
As the silvery cast of the moon revealed Masters darting around in the dark, some getting lucky and catching unfortunate jewels, I stood guard on the threshold of the shed and protected my heart, a pregnant girl, and a friend.
The next day, Peter came to breakfast hobbling on feet that’d healed, covered in fresh bruises that had not.
My chest had grown tight.
I’d had the unbearable urge to leash him to me so no one else could hurt him.
By the end of September, Victor had to go away for a week on business, leaving our nights to ourselves once again.
I’d prepared to leave Ily alone—now that we weren’t forced to fuck in front of the man who pulled our strings, we didn’t have to put on a show.
But the first night Victor was gone, Ily broke into a run after dinner.
She darted into the gardens.
I’d caught her in the maze.
She’d cursed me.
I’d forced her to her knees.
She screamed as I fingered her.
And begged as I fucked her.
With no one watching our performance, we didn’t have to be so reckless or so feral.
We could’ve been sweet. Soft. Gentle.
But...Ily was right.
The longer we played these twisted games, the sicker we became.
We were lost.
Well and truly corrupted.
And I had no idea what would become of us if we kept doing this.
* * * * *
THE CURSE OF BLOOD & DARKNESS
by
Henri Mercer
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I truly am my father’s son.
The things I’ve done to my jewel.
The things I want to do to my jewel.
I’ve drawn her blood, marked her, whipped her, flogged her, fucked her, and last night...I completely consumed her.
One rose quartz dildo in her ass.
One obsidian phallus in her pussy.
My hard cock in her mouth.
She looked fucking spectacular.
Skewered in three ways.
Teary eyed, body pleading, whimpering, and quivering.
The blackness doesn’t just welcome me anymore, it has become me.
I’m polluted by it.
Defiled by it.
I no longer fear the black because I am the black.
And she is my—
“Oh, I’m so happy to hear you used the gifts I gave you.” Victor reached around the back of the wingback where I sat in the library. His hands landed on my shoulders, giving me a quick massage.
Slamming the laptop closed, I spun in the chair and dislodged his hold. “Do you fucking mind?”
He smirked. “Still not ready to share your manuscript, mon ami?”
“I’ll share when and if I’m ever ready, Vic.”
“Fine. Fine.” He held up his hands and strolled around the library. The soaring shelves of literature wrapped us in paper motes and history. “I’ll let you keep writing your secrets. Just, I’m curious. Tell me, Henri. Tell me what she is...”
“What she is?”
“You said you’ve become the darkness. Which makes me so incredibly happy to hear. I admit you seem far more content these days. But...how do you see her? ‘And she is my...’?” He raised an eyebrow. “What were you going to write before I stupidly interrupted?”
Placing the laptop onto the side table complete with a figurine of a hedgehog, I shrugged. “Guess you’ll never know. That’s the price you pay for reading over my shoulder.”
“Spoilsport.” He chuckled and ran his fingers along one of the dust-free shelves.
My heart kicked as I flicked a look at a section of books where I’d planted one of Rachel’s and Mollie’s presents in the limited-edition shadows last month.
I hadn’t wanted to do it.
Frankly, I thought they were still wasting their time and playing with fire (literally), but...I was all in on our war, and if they wanted me to help plant useless bottles with homemade wicks and dodgy chemistry, I wouldn’t argue.
As long as I kept distracting Victor and gave him no reason to look at the security feed, they would go unnoticed. Even if the bombs didn’t go off, we could use the substances to splash over the carpets and curtains, adding fuel to the fires I intended to set on D-day.
“Do you celebrate Halloween, Henri?” Victor finally stopped pacing and faced me.
“Never. Why?”
“I’m hosting a soiree that night. Only intimate, of course. Nothing too grand. A few of my favourite guests is all. Luckily, events off my island detain many of my friends with their own families, and each year I host a special ceremony for the trusted few I actually like.”
“Sounds fun.” I smirked, ignoring the warning prickles down my spine.
“Oh, it is. Most enjoyable.” He smiled. “However, I’m undecided on a theme. Past years I’ve dabbled with witches and warlocks. The trope of vampire and maiden has been done far too often. As has the devil and his sacrifice. I want to do something different this year. Do you have any suggestions?”
Climbing to my feet, I snagged the laptop and tucked it under my arm. “None, sorry. I don’t really have the imagination for party events.”
“You have plenty of imagination, my friend.” Victor snickered. “I’ve only read a few paragraphs of your book, but I must say, I’m very intrigued to read more.”
I drifted toward the door.
I needed Ily.
Being in the library with Vic reminded me of our very first day here. The hope in her eyes as she asked if I was a cop. The heat in her skin as I spanked her with a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.
My cock swelled.
I subtly rearranged it.
I’d intended to leave her in the jewel quarters for the afternoon, but fuck it.
I couldn’t relax unless she was near.
Victor followed me as I strode in black flip flops, jeans, and a grey cable-knit jumper through the archway and into the chilly stone corridor. “No suggestions at all? Come now. You’re far better at this than I am.”
“Told you.” I threw him a look. “Not a party planner.”
“I know. But...” He bumped his shoulder with mine as we walked toward the heart of his citadel. “How about Lycans and...something? Or fae and...?” He snickered. “Some sort of monster perhaps? We could order in some more toys to play with. Perhaps even put on a show?”
Fighting my reaction to get away from him, I forced myself to be friendly.
Stopping as we entered the large airy foyer, I smiled.
“Do you even need a theme? All your games are epic, Vic. You’re the one with the great imagination for this sort of stuff, not me.
I mean...” I whistled under my breath. “Amethyst Anguish that we played last week? Fuck me, that was hot.”
“Oh you liked that, did you?” He tapped his nose with a conspiratorial smirk.
“I must admit, I came up with that playing with one of my previous favourites about eight years ago. A beautiful little submissive called Skye. She was so timid, so shy. I think a part of me fell for her—I’m a sucker for the fragile.
One night, she seemed a little...tired from our previous excursions, so I decided to be nice for once.
I teased her with feathers, flower petals, that sort of thing.
She slowly grew so relaxed and dreamy, she no longer even knew I was there. ”
His eyes flashed. “I didn’t like that, of course. I wanted her to be aware I was the one giving her pleasure instead of drifting off. So...I hit her with a cane.” He laughed. “She came back to earth with a bang, let me tell you.”
I nodded along, eyes wide with fake respect and awe. “It was definitely a power trip. Ily did the same thing.”
“I was watching you while I played with Rachel. I did notice your little nightmare was a sobbing, soaking mess by the end of it.” He grinned. “What did you use again?”
“For soft, I used my fingertips. For hard, I used the tawse.”
“Ah, one of my favourites. Did you know that split leather strap was still used in classrooms when I was a boy? I got swatted a few times in my youth.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know what it was until that night.
” Lowering my voice, making it seem as if I confided a secret, I added, “I loved that Ily’s anguish came from not knowing what I’d deliver.
It was genius to blindfold and ear-plug the jewels before playing.
Ily had no idea if my fingers would pet or the tawse would punish.
It turned me the fuck on watching her body sway toward mine hoping for soft only to flinch when I chose pain instead. ”
“Ah, Henri.” He patted my cheek. “If only I didn’t have a son on the way.
It would’ve been an honour to have you as my heir.
” He dropped his hand, his face almost wistful.
“Tell you what...I’m not getting any younger.
If I don’t live to educate my son in all the ways he will rule, would you be open to it? ”
I froze. “Y-You want me to teach your son?”
“As his guardian...yes. His godfather if you will.” His eyes grew serious and tinged with sadness. “You have no one. I have no one. No one else I’d rather ask anyway. So...what do you say?”
A pang in my chest.
A complex mixture of loathing and...loss.
I was a monster’s bastard.
I’d been raised far different than most children.
I suffered the ramifications of that curse daily.
And the thought of Victor’s child going through what I did?
Becoming what I am...
Swallowing hard, I said, “You never told me. Did you do it?”
“Do what?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Kill my brother.”