Chapter 40 #2
“Yeah, I get that, but... Luca still gets what he wants.”
“Queens belong to their subjects,” he countered. “Not the king.”
My eyes widened as the reality of his words rolled over me.
I belong to The Devil’s Knights… and they belong to me.
Words failed me as he spun me around the room, picking up the pace. He was so damn graceful I wondered where he learned these moves. For a big guy, he was light on his feet.
Despite my reservations about marrying Luca and becoming their queen, I needed answers about Aiden. If I wanted my brother back, I had to infiltrate the ranks of one of the world’s most corrupt and powerful secret societies. I would gladly sacrifice my life for the cause.
Long live the queen .
“What exactly does being the queen entail?” I asked, even though I was afraid of the answer. “You say I’m bound to the Knights, but do you mean like… sexually?”
A smirk pulled at his delicious mouth. “Whatever you need, my queen .”
“And Luca would be okay with it?”
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. “He has to share our Queen.”
“That’s why he’s always been so cold with me,” I guessed.
He nodded to confirm my suspicions.
“Years of torture…” I shook my head, disgusted. “And for what? Because he didn’t want to share me with his friends.” I looked up at Drake and bit my lip. “No offense, but I don’t want… that from the Knights.”
Drake tilted his head back and laughed. “None taken.”
“Being with one man is hard enough,” I admitted, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.
He smiled. “Don’t worry. None of us expects that from you.”
I blew out a deep breath. “I assume you will eventually get married and have your own families.”
“Eventually. But we’re not allowed to marry yet.”
“Why not?”
“We’re waiting for you to choose…”
Before he could finish, the monitors screeched from the opposite end of the room. We drifted toward the entrance doors. Watching my grandfather operate, the Devil’s Knights gathered about ten feet from the plastic curtain.
“We should head over,” Drake suggested.
I gulped down my fear, knowing this could be it. Every second was precious at this point.
I couldn’t lose him.
I needed Marcello.
Drake led me by the hand toward the curtain. My head pounded right at the base of my skull, blurring my vision. The room spun into a mess of colors and sounds. That constant beeping reminded me of what little time Marcello had left.
My grandfather shouted at someone, his words muffled.
Why couldn’t I hear him?
His voice sounded so far away.
Five, four, three, two, one…
Just breathe, Alex.
We stopped beside Luca, who looked at me from the corner of his eye. I clutched my chest to make the pain stop, sobs ripped from my throat, stinging my lips.
“He’s dying,” I muttered. “It’s all my fault…” I lowered my head and focused on breathing, attempting to control the swirl of emotions tearing through my insides. “It should have been me.”
“Breathe.” Luca ran his fingers up my arm in a soothing motion. “Just breathe, baby. We got you.”
The Knights . They would do anything to protect their Queen. A weakness I would expose when this nightmare was over.
Drake stood behind me, his hand on my hip to steady me as Luca grabbed my arm. Pressing my thumbs to my eyelids, I forced back the tears and let them comfort me. Despite their guilt for Aiden’s disappearance, I needed them.
Until I found my brother, I could tolerate Luca’s fingers dipping beneath my sweat-soaked shirt. I could let him massage my back and whisper sweet shit into my ear. And I could let Drake hold me against his chest, his fingers grazing my stomach soothingly.
“Marcello will make it,” Luca assured me.
I sobbed, my lungs heavy as I took a few deep breaths and glanced up at Luca. “How do you know that?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t kill the Devil, baby girl. Only a god can kill a demon. That asshole who shot Marcello is far from one.”
My eyes met his cold blue irises, which looked sadder than usual. He was so beautiful that my throat just about closed up.
“If he dies… I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much, Luca.”
Luca curved his arm around me and rested my head on his chest. “It’s okay, baby. Shhh…” He kissed my sweaty head, stroking his fingers through my hair. “Close your eyes, pretty girl. It will all be over soon.”
“No, it won’t. Those men will come back for me. This is only the beginning. Isn’t it?”
He nodded. “They will return. Next time, they’ll have more resources.” Luca swiped a tear from beneath my eye. “We will be ready.”
I glanced around the room. A worried Sonny shoved a hand through his messy blond hair, biting the inside of his cheek. Drake had tears in his eyes as he watched Pops operate. When he caught me looking, he turned and wiped his eyes.
Arlo waited outside the plastic curtain, arms crossed and with his back to us.
His gaze hadn’t shifted from Marcello, not once.
Bastian and Damian leaned into each other, speaking in hushed tones.
Their faces were as cold and emotionless as marble.
Like Luca, I couldn’t get a read on them.
None of the Salvatores wore their emotions on their sleeves.
They had learned from an early age how to bottle them up.
I recognized some men from the Midsummer Night’s Dream masquerade ball. They waited on the other side of the room, huddled around each other with their focus on Marcello, members of The Devil’s Knights.
The tallest of the bunch, Cole Marshall, had white-blond hair styled off his forehead.
He was twenty-one, the youngest and newest Knight.
He wore hunter-green fatigues and a fitted shirt that made his big biceps look more prominent.
His family owned and ran a military academy for boys, where Cole had lived most of his life.
A man in his mid-twenties stood beside Cole, tugging on his tie.
The other blond beside him shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
They had light blond hair and sun-kissed skin.
Sonny was the oldest of the Cormac boys.
He had two legitimate brothers and a half-sister.
I wasn’t sure which brother was older, Callum or Finn, but they resembled Sonny.
I closed my eyes, attempting to block out the beeping monitor. To forget about the man who held me at knifepoint. The bullet lodged into Marcello’s liver.
My grandfather yelled, “We’re losing him.”
With those words, I moved toward the curtain, following the sound of his voice. Luca shouted my name, but I couldn’t make out the rest of the words over the ringing in my ears. My pulse thumped in my neck, pounding so hard and fast it was ready to escape.
I stopped beside Arlo. He stood painfully still, his eyes on his dying son. Lights flashed before my eyes, Marcello’s name a whisper on my lips. More sounds penetrated the air, voices reaching a higher octave. My body felt weighed down, the gravity of the situation taking over.
Legs trembling, I pushed out my palm to steady my legs, but it was useless. Machines screeched in my ears. Pops yelled something, and as his face came into focus, someone moved behind me. They grabbed my arm, crushing me against a hard chest.
I squirmed, a scream ripping from my lips as someone jammed a needle into my arm. “No,” I slurred.
“He’s gone,” someone said from a distance.
Before I could process his words, I lost my footing, and the room swirled around me.