Chapter 25
LUCUS
Itried to sleep, I really did, but it was useless. Sleep hid behind a door I couldn’t unlock, mocking me from the other side while my body twisted in place, aching for something I couldn't name.
No, not true. I could name it. Aniyah. My entire being felt like it was being magnetically pulled toward her, this low, thrumming instinct insisting that I was in the wrong place. That I was meant to be with her.
She was a leader, a badass who refused to rely on anyone. She carved her own path, made her own rules, and built everything with her name stamped on it in bold, bright letters. I admired the hell out of that. It was everything I’d been fighting for my whole life.
My family came from old money. Legacy types. They believed in tradition, in playing it safe and steady. Their success was slow and predictable, measured by time and preservation. They didn’t take risks. They didn’t chase the unknown.
But me? I’d always wanted more. Craved it.
I wanted to make waves and shake things up. Win big. I yearned to prove that I didn’t need their safe, suffocating version of success. I wanted to build something that made my blood rush and my heart pound—something electric, something worth living for—and around Aniyah, I felt that.
She was the spark to my fuse. The fire I’d been searching for. She made me feel like I’d been sleepwalking until I met her.
When we first crossed paths, I wrote her off as just another beautiful woman running an upscale brothel.
I didn’t think there was anything deeper than curated pleasure, but then I started to see it, the architecture of her mind, the way she had built something from the ground up.
She didn’t just offer pleasure. No, she offered what supes and humans craved most—belonging.
Someone who understood and accepted them, whatever that looked like, and I wanted it. Wanted her.
At first, I thought I could have just a taste. See what it felt like to hold a woman like that. I could even try to break her, tame her, but deep down, I knew you couldn’t tame a wildfire. You could only survive it… or burn with it.
Still, I liked the burn. I liked the resistance, the sass, the way she surrendered on her terms. It was never about dominance. It was about earning every inch of her, and I found I wanted to accomplish that task.
Then I walked in on her and Alic at the club, and something dark and primal rose up inside me.
If she was trying to figure out a choice, I wasn’t about to be cast aside because I didn't get in when I had the chance.
No. I was going to get equal attention. So I joined.
Was it fueled by adrenaline, ego, or lust? Take your pick.
But the moment her ruby-red essence touched my tongue? That was it. Game over. I was addicted. Completely, stupidly hers.
Something inside of me shifted the second my fangs pierced her skin—a deep, searing certainty. A beast rose inside of me, rearing its head toward her. Mine, it echoed in my head, and I didn’t dispute it. I wasn’t even surprised to see my mark manifest. It felt… inevitable.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t only mine. I could see it in the others. Maso. Alic. Van. Even that smug bastard Rasmus. I recognized the pull in their eyes, the weight of longing in their voices, and I knew her family history.
Her mother had five mates. Five. So, why not her?
I wasn’t new to sharing in bed. I’d had my wild years. I told myself I could handle it, as long as we were all hers, like partners in a business venture. Different assets, all under her empire.
Then she told us about that damn mate-blocker tattoo, and everything cracked.
My understanding of the situation shattered. How could you block something so sacred? So rare? Something that only ever happened once in a lifetime if you were lucky? How could she block me?
I tried to shove it down and talk myself out of the pain. Maybe she was overwhelmed. Maybe it was just bad timing. She was facing a crisis, and she didn’t have space for love or mates or emotional earthquakes at the moment.
It all sounded reasonable in my head, but none of it helped the knife twisting in my chest.
The worst part? The thoughts I hated most, the ones I thought I’d outgrown, started surfacing.
She’s going to reject you. You’re not enough.
She’s too much for you. Too important. And you?
You’re just noise in her world. Another rich playboy looking for some fun, and you found it.
Ready to be left and discarded to go back to your real life.
By the time Alic came to get Maso and me, I was already drowning in my spiral. My emotions had boiled over, and I was ready to fight. To confront her. To make her see me. Accept me.
Because, fuck it, she was my mate. She had to feel it too.
Then that fucking psycho demon opened his mouth. His confident words about what I was doing wrong, how I was failing her, had pissed me off, but deep down, I knew he was right. He understood her rhythm, and I felt like a child being scolded for not knowing how to hold something fragile.
She was a ball of fire. If you held on too tight, you would get burned, but if you let her loose, the wind would take her and leave you in the dust. She needed someone with just the right touch, and I thought I was just the man to do it.
Then he called himself her boyfriend, and something inside of me fractured.
Everything I’d been holding back, all the logic, the maturity, the rational self-talk, it crumbled into dust. I was standing in the wreckage with nothing but my pride and empty hands.
Not wanting to go around killing everyone, I settled for doing some work. I desperately tried to focus, to not think about it all. I called Kara, finalized deals, and scheduled meetings—anything to not feel—but nothing helped.
Then I heard a soft moan, barely audible, but it cracked through my shield like lightning. At first, I wrote it off as a dream, my desire to be buried deep inside of her coming to haunt me, but then I heard it again.
I got up, skeptical, shaky, really wanting to prove to myself that this was a hallucination.
I walked through the apartment in silence, passing Maso, who was knocked out and snoring on the couch.
Alic was pacing the hallway outside, probably giving himself a good pep talk full of self-loathing and guilt. He was good at that kind of thing.
I didn’t look for Rasmus because if I saw him again, I’d kill him. No warnings. Just pure, calculated violence for the sake of soothing my pain.
Then I saw her door. The unconnected bond was tugging me forward, but the darkness inside of my soul was holding me back.
Then it happened again, that whisper of a moan floating to my ear, and I snapped.
No longer settled with searching, I began to hunt.
Every muscle pulled tight, I stalked the sound until I found the moonlight pouring in from the balcony, and then I saw her, my mate, on her knees, with Van.
Her lips were wrapped around him like she couldn’t get enough.
Her ass shifted, and her nails dug into his skin, pulling him closer even though he showed no inclination to leave even a breath of space between them.
His hand was fisted in her hair, his head up as he moaned into the night sky like he’d just gotten everything he ever wanted.
And I fucking broke into a million pieces.
Every dark thought I’d tried to bury came surging back. Maybe I was just a passing thrill. A toy she planned to wind up when she was bored. Maybe this was her answer to my mark. I don’t choose you.
My jaw clenched until I thought my teeth would crack. My fists curled so hard I lost circulation.
She knew what she was doing. She was showing me that they fit in her world… and I didn’t.
My blood turned to ice. Fury slid into my veins, slow and deliberate. I watched her like a predator tracking prey, stalking her every movement, every sound, waiting for my moment.
I wasn’t going to walk away. I wasn’t going to lick my wounds.
No.
I was going to prove to her that I was the only one who could truly handle her fire. She was mine.
The moment he had her in his arms, kissing her like they were the only two people in the world, I pushed the balcony door open.
“So, this is where you come when you want a good time.” My voice stayed smooth, even, almost too calm.
She jolted, spinning around like she’d been caught with her hand in something sweet and sinful. His head snapped up, and those burning eyes met mine, full of fire and something even more dangerous, a challenge.
I smiled, teeth bared in something that wasn't quite friendly. A warning. A promise. To my surprise, he didn’t flinch or loosen his grip on her.
If anything, he pulled her in tighter, staking a silent claim of his own, but I wasn’t here for him.
Not really. She was the one in my crosshairs.
That wicked, infuriating, addictive woman who had no idea what she did to me.
The urge to reach for her, just hold her, and whisper something soft and stupid like “I missed you” hit me with the force of a tidal wave, but I shut it down. Instead, my pain rose up, and I let my anger bleed out through the cracks in my walls.
“Now, Van…” I let my gaze slide to her and caught the way her eyes locked on my bare chest. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. Good. Let her look. Let her want. It would make it easier to break her.
“You can’t keep her in this state,” I said as I stepped forward, slow and deliberate, dragging a single finger down the center of her chest.
Her pupils blown wide, her breath shallow, hungry, she arched into my touch like it would hurt not to.
Van’s arms tightened, trying to steady her, trying to protect her from me. Too late. She was already mine.
“It’s a shame, darling…” I murmured, leaning in until our foreheads nearly touched. “To leave you this needy.”