Chapter 16 Lucus
LUCUS
Ifound my mate, and she was a hellion on heels. If I could just get rid of these assholes orbiting her like flies, it’d be perfect.
Finding your mate—the one person made for you, not just in looks or temperament, but someone who could handle your worst moments, who understood you when you didn’t understand yourself—was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
Sometimes you matched, same fire, same flaws. Other times, you were polar opposites, but fate never gave you what you wanted, only what you needed.
In return, you cherished them. Prioritized them above all else. Made sure the world knew that you were each other's person in life, but that didn't happen for most.
My parents weren’t mates. Just two names from ancient families forced together to keep the bloodline pure. I often wondered if they ever wanted to find real love or if profitable indifference was enough for them. They were problematic like that.
Watching their cold indifference to each other, I knew I didn't want that. Mate or not. I wasn't going to be chained to someone that I loathed in the name of money or prestige. I wanted that fire, that warmth that would keep this dead body alive.
It was my uncle who’d taught me about mates. He found his, an unassuming human he turned just so they could stay together. He explained the pull, the instinct, how your body could recognize them before your mind ever caught wind, but it was different for everyone.
For werewolves, it was the wolf who chose.
Mages found the one their magic wouldn’t touch.
Demons exchanged blood and sex, and if the horns grew, it was a match.
Vampires? We shared blood and searched for a mark on their skin.
Fairies? Their eyes became kaleidoscopes of color and wings turned from sheer to iridescent.
So… why hadn’t Aniyah’s wings changed?
Though rare, it was possible and not unheard of that she could be my mate, whereas I wasn’t hers. On the other hand, these things sometimes took a few days to align and show up. My neck tightened at the impossible thought that she might do the unthinkable and reject me. No. She wouldn't do that.
The key was not to freak out about it… right?
Sipping my bourbon, I watched her light up the room with chaos and fire, letting those thoughts and fears bleed into the back of my mind, put away for later. I wanted to enjoy that little pixie wrapped in heels, jewels, and pure danger. Perfectly mine.
Watching her put the troll in his place just now was deeply satisfying. It made me want to snatch her up, check behind her ear again, and trace the blood-red diamond that marked her as mine.
The first time I saw it, I panicked, but I masked my reaction because I knew she wasn’t ready.
On day one, she tried to dominate me by fucking another man in front of me.
Day two near her? She upped the ante, fucking someone else on stage.
In public. Both times, I felt equal parts possessive rage and feral arousal.
It was maddening. I’d felt more in the last seven days than I had in my entire ninety-eight years of living.
Needless to say, declaring her as mine for life might be… a bit much. So, I played it cool. Strategic.
The truth? As much as the other men in her orbit vexed me, I hadn’t yet felt the need to rip their heads off. That had to mean something. Growth, maybe?
Right now, she was flanked by the mage, Van, and that wolf she’d used on stage. Both were demanding answers, though neither deserved them.
I took another sip.
Van had the eyes of a friend who’d spent too long suppressing his love, waiting for the perfect moment that would never come.
The wolf? He looked at her like he was seeing a ghost, then followed her lead like a puppy.
And the troll pacing the room… his constant glances and tense body nearly made me laugh.
All of them were lacking, but Aniyah kept them close. Which meant, for now, I couldn’t do anything about them.
A whisper of logic crept in. What if they’re her mates, too? Knowing who her family was, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
I’d spent the last week in London, combing through every bit of information Kara could dig up on her. Known as mob royalty, the Desmonds were ruthless in business and fiercely loyal to blood. Her mother, Rayla, had five mates, and together, they’d built an American kingdom.
Sure, the family dabbled in the unsavory, but her sister Ezra? She was legit, building a clean empire and expanding their brand. I hadn’t paid attention before since most of my markets were in Europe, but that was changing now.
Because of her.
Her grandfathers had descended from the first supernaturals—a hell of a pedigree. Good. That should silence my snobby family when they found out I’d mated with the queen of a crime family and owner of a sex club.
They’d never wanted to branch into the American market.
Too “unstable,” they said. Not enough time had passed for them to make something out of it.
I spent the past week convincing them to let me scout for investment opportunities, telling them that if we didn’t diversify, we couldn’t maintain our lifestyle indefinitely.
A cover, of course. In truth, I just wanted to be near her.
Ezra Desmond had done her family proud and got in on some key investments early on, and maybe, just maybe, if she could help out her new mate in-law, I could pitch a full expansion to the family.
I would take over the American division and move to New York, entangling myself in her world. I could make it work for my mate.
My mate. That word was still new. Still strange, but it felt right.
Now, I just needed to win her over. Wine. Dine. Spoil. And when the time was right, drop the mate bomb. She’d fall into my arms, and all would be well. I just knew it.
At least, that was the plan… until a scattered-looking demon burst into the office, yelling her name just as the building shook from a loud, echoing BOOM.
I held onto the credenza behind me, making sure not to spill my drink, and took another sip as the walls groaned.
“What the fuck was that?!” Aniyah screeched. She bolted behind her desk, pulled out her laptop, and slammed a finger onto the keyboard. As her fingers flew over the keys with practice, a wall of security feeds bloomed to life.
“Rasmus, what are you doing here?” Alic asked, calm but coiled. “I thought IT was coming next week.”
The demon stuttered, still catching his breath.
Aniyah snapped, “Fucking limp-dick pricks think they can take me down? They have no idea who they’re fucking with.” She stormed out before any of us could stop her.
The demon bolted after her, calling out for her to wait for him. Something was off about him. The twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her… I didn't like it. I was going to need to keep a firm eye on him and his interactions with her.
Van stepped up to her desk and spun the screen around. Alic turned and leaned in, eyes widening as his face drained of color.
“Shit! She’s going to get herself killed,” he muttered, then sped off faster than I thought possible given his massive size. Van and the wolf immediately chased after him.
I set my glass down and zoomed over to the computer.
Black-clad gunmen wearing ski masks swarmed the first floor, shoving guns in patrons’ faces.
That was bad for business. Looking round, I saw half the security was down, the rest bound with magic-blocking rope.
A few more screens showed similar-looking gunmen searching for more people on different floors. All of it seemed pretty well organized.
A flash of white came from the bottom right feed, and I clicked a button to enlarge it.
Right there was my furious mate stomping down the hallway like a lioness about to defend her pride.
Hair up in a messy bun, legs on full display, and a look on her face that said everyone was going to pay. I wouldn't miss that.
Picking my shirt up off the floor, I threw it on, half-buttoned it, and sped after her.
I found her in a flash, tapping on a large wall in a precise rhythm.
The rest of the guys circled her and waited.
A soft beep sounded, then a panel spun around, revealing a goddamn military-grade arsenal of magic weapons.
Top-tier. Some that even circled the black market.
This had her brother Calix’s name all over it.
She threw her head back and cackled, whispering to herself about how they would pay for attacking the Syndicate on their own turf.
It was followed by a gleeful comment about how she now had people she could practice on with her toys.
I wasn’t sure what she meant until she started pulling down weapons like a woman on a mission.
Alic stepped forward, trying to reason with her. “Aniyah, we should come up with a plan first.”
She didn’t even hear him, or if she did, she didn't say anything because she was too focused on the weapons at her fingertips.
I knew this was a high-risk situation, understood Alic’s concern to some extent, but that didn't stop the thrill coursing through my veins. This was the Syndicate queen I wanted to know. The firebrand under the glitter. I wanted every piece of her. Every crumb. Every scar. Just to make her mine.
“One step at a time, Lucus,” I whispered to myself. She wasn’t going to be an easy catch, but I was working the long game. She had to learn to trust me first.
She tossed two pistols at Van, who barely caught it. “Right shoots sleep darts. Left has heart-seeker bullets that explode on contact.”
Two massive shotguns followed. She lobbed them at Alic, grunting, “Fuck, those are heavy.” She pointed to the left one then the right. “Wind-throwing and bone-crushing. I trust you know how to use those.”
Turning back to the weapons, she finally answered Alic. “And I do have a plan.” She threw her thumb over her shoulder to the demon. “Mr. IT guy—”