9. Chapter 9
Omniscient
A throbbing ache pulsed at the back of Brooklyn’s head.
She gripped the edge of the counter as she forced her breath out in short, ragged rasps.
The memory of her skull bouncing off the cold floor was courtesy of that arrogant, entitled Princess.
It had Brooklyn’s blood boiling so hot, the feeling resembled acid eating through her veins.
“When I’m done with that bitch, she won't be so high and mighty,” Brooklyn hissed into the empty room. “I don't know where the fuck she gets off putting her motherfucking hands on me. Sticking her nose up like she’s untouchable.”
On the counter sat a double-edged combat knife. Her fingers wrapped around the knife before she whipped her arm back and threw it across the room.
The blade bit into the wall, sinking into the paper right between the eyes of Princess Adanna’s portrait.
Brooklyn stared at the portait. If she had her way, she would have marched straight into Jade’s estate, painted the walls with every single one of their brains, and watched the whole place burn to ash.
A wave of nausea washed over her. She tried to stand up, determined to tear the picture off the wall, but the moment her knees locked, the world tilted. The back of her head screamed in agony, blinding her for a split second.
“Fuck!” she spat, dropping back into the chair. Her hand flew to the swelling lump on her crown. She squeezed her eyes shut. She muttered under her breath, “Good thing that bitch of a Chief actually lives by a code... otherwise I’d have cut her throat in her sleep already.”
The heavy deadbolt on the side door turned. The front entrance opened and shut. The murderous tension in her shoulders bled away as a wicked smirk slowly spread across her face.
He stepped into the dim light of the entryway, tossing his coat over the back of an armchair. The father of the new King locked eyes with Brooklyn. He took in the bruised state of her lip, and the look on her face. He didn't say a word at first. He took his time dropping between her legs.
He reached up, cupped her face, and pulled her lips to his in a light kiss that tasted like iron and smoke.
Brooklyn leaned into it, demanding more. The kiss deepened, until he wrapped his hand around the front of her waist and pulled her close. A wince tore from her throat as the pressure radiated up to the back of her head.
He pulled back. “I’m sorry... are you okay?”
Brooklyn swallowed. “I’m better now... my King,” she whispered.
He leaned back in, pressing his lips to her neck, kissing the spot right below her ear. He trailed his mouth up to her cheek.
“How did everything go?” he murmured against her skin.
“As expected,” Brooklyn spat, her hands tightening on his shoulders. “Bitch got the upper hand for now. But I’ll get my licks back later.”
“You shall. I’ll make sure of it.”
Brooklyn pulled her head back to look him in the eyes. “How about you?”
He sighed. “Well... my second wife found out I was sleeping with somebody. She had been snooping, but they don't know who..”
Brooklyn’s eyes narrowed into cold slits. “Okay. And?”
“And it might take me a little bit more time to clean house,” he said softly while his thumbs traced her cheekbones. “It might take a little longer to get rid of my wives without the whole council throwing a fit. But when all this shit is said and done... me and you will have a fresh start.”
Brooklyn leaned closer. “And the children?”
“Will be gone,” he said. “Dead and buried. The only people left standing in this entire fucking kingdom will be you and I.”
He didn't hesitate. There wasn't a flicker of remorse, doubt, or warmth in his eyes when he responded.
Brooklyn searched his face. “You promise me?”
“I’ve already told you what I was gonna do,” he growled, bringing his face inches from hers. “And I always keep my fucking word.”
He stood up, sliding his arms her thighs, lifting her off the counter.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he muttered.
He carried her up the narrow staircase, stepping past the knife stuck on the Princess’s face.