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The Ministry said people wouldn’t come out tonight and neither should we.
I smirk to myself.
Shows how much they know.
The corridor is full, Argents and Stygians alike standing shoulder to shoulder for as far as you can see as they wait for what they know to come next, while once again being hit with something they couldn’t have seen coming. ?
I imagine every time the Argents are called upon, it’s with fear and uncertainty that they travel here, being it’s the same way they learned of the death of their own Royal Family centuries ago, followed by the shock of a Ministry forming in its place, and the refusal of our father to relinquish his title.
And why the fuck would he?
He was the fucking King of Darkness, and rightfully so.
We will never bend to the so-called Ministry. We didn’t then and we sure as fuck won’t now.
“Following the death of a king, royal decree states the dark throne shall pass to the firstborn son …" she turns her head, looking to the left of the crowd. “However, it also states a king shall bestow his crown upon the first of royal blood to unlock their Ethos by way of a mate. My people, King Arturo was prepared to do just this before a traitor took his life.”
It takes mere moments for the whispers to begin, growing louder and louder by the second, but they quiet when she opens her mouth once more.?
Lifting her chin and outstretching her hands, Mother continues. “I stand before you today to announce there is a new King of Darkness on the horizon.”?
Our people hang on her every move. On her every breath, so when she turns, looking over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine, they follow.... but at their angle, they can’t possibly see which of their Lords their Queen’s gaze lands on.
So, they wait, staring in rapture as a red carpet appears.
The thick, shiny mane of the monster who skinned its own back for this honor today starts out no longer than the length of my hockey stick, but as my shoe meets the fur, it grows, rising higher in the air with each step I take, creating invisible stairs. They rise higher and higher into the open night air, until I am standing above my mother. Until I am standing above all.
I grind my teeth until there’s a deep crack.
Never in my life had I heard such true silence, and a split second later never have I witnessed such roars.
The people rejoice, their love for my father instant and without fault rolling over to his chosen son. Because in their eyes... the fates never get it wrong.To them, this moment means I was written in the stars and blessed by the blood of our ancestors lifetimes ago.
But they don’t know what I know.
That my mate, my bond … is bullshit.
There are two things nearly all Stygians have in common.
They love their kind more than all.
And they hate The Slasher more than any.
That is only one of the many reasons my mate cannot be.
Mother rises, not standing at my side as the crowd stares on. Slowly, her head swivels my way, her eyes meeting mine. She dips her chin and waits.
My eyes move behind me, latching on to London’s as she stands as far back on the balcony as she can in attempt to hide.
Her features are lined with tension, too many emotions to count flash across her face as her gaze holds mine. Her hands fall to her sides, and my brows snap together at the sight.
My lips curl, my head whirling, but I clear the air from my lungs, erasing the scent of her.
I don’t even have to look at my brother, he moves on his own.
Sinner dashes for her, grips her by the shirt and tosses her clear over the edge. Before she knows what’s happening, she’s freefalling to the ground a solid seventy-five feet away.
The crowd gasps, probably the Argents, those weak motherfuckers, and her scream pierces the air as she continues to fall to her death—the sound yanking at every nerve in my body.
