Page 43 of War and his Queen

Halen

My vision blursand anytime I try to focus on an object, it only makes it worse. The room blends to a smudged color palette behind a pool of tears as I try to push up from the soft surface I’m lying on.

A hand is on my chest, forcing me back down.

“I thought you said it was just a cut…”

“It was.” War’s tone is hard.

“If it was just a cut, why is she so fucked up?” Priest hisses from somewhere.

I force my eyes open, reaching up and scrubbing them with the palm of my hands.

“I’m fine!” I grumble, crawling up the bed and leaning against the headboard. “And War drugged me.”

I look to my brother. His eyes narrow as they fly between us. I haven’t even registered where I am yet. The ground is uneven and slowly the room comes into focus.

I’m on the fucking 747.

Priest closes his eyes for a second, nostrils flaring as the tension leaves his muscles. “Could have been worse and at least it knocked you out for a few hours.”

But— “Wait.” I shove the white woolen blanket off my body. “Why are we on Riddler?” We only ever use this plane if we’re going away for family vacations because of the sheer size of it.

The door behind War closes and he chuckles, shaking his head while lowering himself down onto the mattress of the bed. I force myself to move away from him because no matter how much I try, I can’t not be angry with him. He does too many things to piss me off.

Like for one—whatever happened last night. It isn’t the drugging, no. I’m not precious and I don’t care. I know that it wasn’t the intention to harm me, so it’s not that.

My step falters when turbulence shakes the plane. “I know you all. Why are we on Riddler? We only use this for vacations.”

The door closes opposite and Vaden slowly lowers himself into the chair in the corner of the room while holding a glass of whiskey. Riddler had been gutted and restructured in design to match our private jet. There are bedrooms upstairs, the biggest one being the room I woke up in.

“Halen, you wanted in, so this is what’s going to happen going forward.” Priest’s monotone voice is one of his many red flags.

“You say it like I had a choice, Priest…” I say softly, and I instantly hate that I sounded so weak. I didn’t want to be weak. Especially not in front of the very men that have always made me feel that way because of just how insane they are.

He ignores me. “Correct. So here’s what you need to know going forward. All of what happened last night, was a retaliation from a rival group.”

“The Gentlemen?” I blurt the first one that comes to mind.

Naturally.

Vaden tenses in his chair. “No.”

“Who?” I ask, folding my arms in front of myself.

“The same man who cut you was the one who cornered us, Halen. He’s what they call a Baker—" White noise pierces through my ears as the room shifts sideways and the pain in my side returns. “Hey!” War’s arm is around my back, helping me stand straight. “You good?”

I stare blankly at him, before looking around the room and resting a little longer on War before going back to my brother. “You all underestimate us.”

Priest’s eyes narrow. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Let up on her.” War makes his way to the opposite side of the room, opening the curtains and looking out to the puffy clouds in the sky. “Pretty sure she can handle it.”

Silence.

War Malum, always there to take my hand. Even if it is to lead me to hell.

“So?” I ask, glaring around at all three of them. “Why are we on Riddler?”

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