Chapter 24 Luther
LUTHER
“How in the actual hell are you supposed to tie these fucking things?” Killian grumbles into the mirror where he’s been waging war against the strip of silk for the last five minutes.
Roth rolls his eyes from in front of me as he sets the knot of my tie.
I didn’t even bother attempting to do it myself, since Roth would have just redone it anyways.
As soon as he finishes and turns to help Killian, I tug at the collar of my dress shirt.
Even expertly tailored, it feels claustrophobic.
Even my own skin has felt claustrophobic lately. All my demon wants to do is break free, to spread our wings and fly hard and fast into the night. Anything would be preferable to wearing this monkey suit and pandering to the hordes of cloying lemmings fawning over us.
“Stand still, mutt,” Roth orders as Killian fidgets and groans in irritation.
“How long do we have to be there tonight?” he whines.
Roth sets the knot of his tie and sighs. “Long enough for word to get back to my father that Calanthe survived the night at my side.”
Killian scoffs. “Can’t you just send him a selfie or something?
” Roth side-eyes him before moving over to Thane, who’s standing nervously in the doorway of his room.
Even though he’s taller, Thane is always looking up to Roth.
With more care than he took with us, Roth begins adjusting his tie in slow, controlled movements.
“Color?” Roth asks.
After a moment, he answers, “Green.”
“Good. Tell me if that changes.”
“Okay.” He swallows thickly as Roth sets the knot of his tie, but stills when Roth’s tattooed hand slips around the front of his throat.
“Tell me,” He orders, the deep rumble of his demon’s voice bleeding through. With one more hard glance, Roth leaves him to adjust his own suit and tie.
“We got you, man,” I mutter as I pass him, rubbing his buzzed head.
Killian snickers. “Yeah and if worst comes to worst, Luther can just fly out and drop you off a cliff. Easy peasy.”
“I’ll drop you off a cliff,” Thane mutters as we file out of the apartment, Roth in the lead.
Roth looks over his shoulder and glares at us. “I will drop you all off a cliff if you don’t shut up.”
The corner of my mouth tips up. “Gotta catch me first.” Killian cackles with laughter as we file into the elevator, but the mood sobers, and by the time those doors open again we are no longer Roth, Killian, Thane, and Luther.
We are the prodigal sons.
The wicked who shall inherit the earth.
Except me.
The familiar, well-worn path leads us around the Foundation Stone, where the great monolith will be the backdrop to tonight’s Samhain bonfire. With any luck, we’ll be long gone by then. Hopefully blitzed out of our fucking minds on whatever Killian’s been working on. Speaking of—
“Is the new batch ready yet?”
“Almost. Give me another week or two to refine it,” he answers, and launches into a monologue about the science of his latest experiment.
Another week or two might be the difference between life and death if Thane can’t keep his demon from rising.
Last weekend was the closest he’s come to flattening everything in a half-mile radius.
It was too fucking close. And all because of her.
God damnit.
I shouldn’t have gone to her.
I shouldn’t have—fuck. The memory of her dancing in the dark flashes behind my eyes. Of stalking her through the darkness, wrapping my hand around neck, running my fingers over that soft skin.
Kissing her.
Devouring her.
The way she molded to my body, so different than drilling in Carrick’s class. Whimpering in desperate need instead of pain.
All for me.
She wanted me.
Bile threatens to rise.
No, she didn’t even know it was me.
I’d hoped, stupidly, that maybe she’d recognize me in the stockroom, that she’d remember cumming on my fingers not thirty minutes prior, begging for more.
But when we locked eyes, she recoiled like she wanted nothing to do with me.
Not that night.
Not in physical training on Thursday. No matter how much I pushed her, she always pushed back. And every time she ended up beneath me, I had to bury the urge to touch her like I did in the club. I wanted to. So fucking badly.
I wanted to ruin her, just like Roth warned her.
But I couldn’t. I can’t.
No one can know what I can do—what we can do—least of all some powerless nobody who’d just use that knowledge to bring us down and lift herself up. It’s happened before, and it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
Roth, Thane, Killian—they’re the Heirs, the scions of their families.
And one day they’ll be the patriarchs. Me?
I’m just the spare. When they eventually rise to the Dark Council, it’ll be Cyrus standing next to them, not me.
And the moment I renounce Cyrus’s authority when he takes over as Head of House Aeris, I’ll be nothing.
Better that than dead, forgotten and left to rot in the same crypt where they tried to erase Quentin.
So I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure they live long enough to keep Cyrus in check.
Including wearing this fucking suit, being around these fucking people, and burying any desire I have for the one girl who’s slithering her way between us.
It grates at me that I haven’t figured her out yet.
Unlike the vultures mobbing us as we enter the Great Hall, she’s not playing the same games as everyone else.
And if she’s not on the board, then I need to find a new way to take her out of the game completely.
Thane stays close to Roth as the Legacies descend. Calanthe keeps Lyra and Cynthia close by for reinforcements as she stands next to Roth. I can feel the lust seeping from her, wafting through the air to tease and taunt the adoring, simpering idiots that usually dog her footsteps.
Killian thrusts a drink into my hand when we finally claim our usual corner of the Great Hall. “Drink. Your RBF is scaring people.”
“Good.”
“Do me a favor and pull the stick out of your ass. Smile! Have fun! It’s a party!”
“It’s my worst nightmare.”
“Oh my God, you’re so boring,” he says, downing his drink.
He quickly switches his empty glass out for a full one as a server passes by, and nudges me hard enough to nearly spill my own.
“Well would you fucking look at that.” He nods, and I follow his line of sight across the room to where a group of women are chatting amongst each other.
I vaguely recognize Evie Hektreia and her two older sisters as they’re greeted by a group of three other girls.
“So?”
“Look who’s next to Tori. Black dress.” I look again, and when I see Nyx I nearly choke on air. She looks…
Fuck.
“God damn.” Killian breathes out harshly.
The dress hugs her body like a second skin, showing off the curves she’s gotten since she came here.
The strips of black fabric hide everything I want so desperately to see.
I don’t even notice Thane’s come up on Kilian’s other side until he chokes on his drink when he notices who we’re staring at.
“Oh my fucking Fate,” he whispers, breathless.
“I hate you so much right now.” Killian sighs, sipping his drink.
“Why? You saw her naked too.”
“Yeah, but you had a taste. And you get to touch her every week in class.” He glares at me.
“So fuck you both.” When I look over, I see his lips twitch with the barest hint of a smile and I can’t help but shake my head…
and adjust my swelling cock. Fuck. This is the exact kind of shit that needs to be stopped before it spirals out of control, and one of us—them, one of them—does something that can’t be undone.
But for now, I can only watch as she smiles and laughs, even as she does so from the edge of their group.
I tear my eyes off her when the doors of the Great Hall thud open a few minutes later. To see—
“What in the actual fuck is Smaug doing here?” The appearance of the partially-shifted dragon prince makes my own demon rise in challenge.
I have to roll my shoulders to ease the burning ache as my wings threaten to break free of my skin.
He may be the only one who could meet Roth’s fire and come out unscathed, but the skies are mine.
“Well, then.” Roth’s low voice comes from behind me, and I step aside to make room for him.
His black eyes track every movement the dragon makes as the crowd parts for him, and my breath stills when he stops, scenting the air and heading directly for—Nyx.
I start moving, but Roth grasps my elbow to stop me.
Killian is practically vibrating, and Thane is frozen next to him.
The rest of the room holds its breath waiting for the infamously volatile dragon to snap.
Which apparently is what she’s trying to do when whatever she says makes his chest rumble with—
“Is he fucking laughing?” Killian hisses as gasps come from the crowd.
“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” his beasts voice echoes in the silence. I can’t hear what she whispers back from here, but his growl floats above the crowd.
“Are you scared?”
She fucking should be—
She bites her lip, and shakes her head.
“Absolutely… as you wish.”
She seems to remember where she is, and looks around the room. For a split second, she looks straight at us before looking up to Ramsey expectantly.
“Follow me.”
Without another word, he turns and lumbers through the crowd towards the back patio of the Great Hall, Nyx following dutifully behind him after waving off her friends who look as stunned as the rest of us that she—
“What the fuck was that?” Thane murmurs.