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“I know you do.” My lips split into a small smile. Leaning in, I make sure to keep his gaze as if I’m about to spoil a secret, then whisper, “If not, Dad wouldn’t think of you that high, regardless of his love for Nathalie.”
Régis purses his lips in annoyance but doesn’t blink. He’s waiting.
“Look around you.” I spread my arms. He does, his blue eyes darting around as he takes in the surroundings of this beautiful place. Magical, with its glass and silver. With all those plants and flowers that grow everywhere, some even as high as the endless ceiling. Dotted around us on those ceramic tiles are plush pillows and low stools, their colors a warm ochre, brown, green and red, matching outside’s autumn glow.
“What’s the stage for?” Régis finally asks.
“Hmm, the stage,” I drawl. “What do you think it’s for?” Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t use my little stepbrother for my own pleasure, but he’s just so quickly disturbed, his mask so easily cracked. It turns me the fuck on.
“I don’t know?” He stammers. Like a light switch, the mood has changed into something less hostile, something more heady, I can’t put my finger on. Well, whatever it is, my limbs tighten with anticipation.
I take a few steps up the stairs, fingertips tracing the shiny cherry wood of the stair railing. “We use them for performances.”
“Performances?”
“That’s right. Come further.” I wait for him to reach the spotlight, while blood continues to fill my eager cock. Dripping anticipation has my body coiling with heat. This place was designed for one thing and one thing only.
For power. And tonight I will use it just for that. I’ll show my little stepbrother who gets to toy with him. Who gets to tell him what to do and when. Who makes him understand that he better not get in my way.
Monchaton, my little devil whispers. And only mine. Fuck. How did it come to this, so soon?
Régis reluctantly follows me, the first cracks already beautifully forming in his large, clear as blue, stoic glare. He’s nervous and fuck, if that doesn’t make me hungry. But I continue explaining, because this part needs to be clear. I want him to know what he walks into, need his full conscience.
“During the French Revolution, when Paris became one big warzone, many elite families fled to neighboring countries, such as Switzerland, and Italy. Some came here, to Monterrey Castle, where the monks promised to keep them safe. They kept their word, and the privileged families stayed in the south wing for years,together.” I flick my gaze back at Régis, then guide him to a wooden chair. The only thing on this stage. He languidly follows me.
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me, nor with this brotherhood.”
“Theyarethe brotherhood, Régis, the very same one that sent you an invitation to join. The Alpha Fraternarii was founded by our ancestors, the elite who fled the capital when the streets of Paris were burning down.”
He blinks, then blinks again. Then he lets out a strained chuckle. “This is… Why did you bring me here anyway?” His gaze turns serious once more and he shifts uncomfortably as he looks around him. “To scare me?” He takes a step back toward the stairs, the mask on his face cracking a little more, making him even more vulnerable. My chest tightens a little, but I shake it off. Shake it the fuck off. “I have to go soon, it’s getting late,” Régis mumbles.
I grab his shoulder before he can climb back down the stairs. He turns over his shoulder, surprised. In the faint light I catch sight of his large eyes. He’s afraid.
“No. This is about you not being a pussy and standing here and listening to what the fuck I have to tell you, little stepbrother.” I squeeze his shoulder a little tighter, but it comes off as some weird gesture of affection. I drop my hand. “When they stayed here, in Monterrey Castle, our ancestors formed a pact based on communal values. They vowed that history would never repeat itself, that they’d never again be taken off their thrones by commoners. Because that’s the thing with the people, Régis.Le peuple.They believed in the French Revolution. Believed that things would really change for them. That their voices would be heard, that they would pay less taxes, be more protected and safe from disease and other destruction. But they can’t take what’s ours. Not then, and not now.”
Régis flutters his lashes, his lips parting, then closing again as he visibly searches for words. I wait, suddenly curious about what this kitten thinks about the Alpha Fraternarii. He doesn’t speak for a few minutes and we end up just staring at each other.
“That’s absolutely sick,” he finally settles with, his luscious lips curved into a sneer. “You are—do you know how poor some people are out there? How many people work their asses off, only to barely get by? And you…you just, you just—” He shakes his head. “I’m actually speechless.”
I snort. “No, you’re not. You’re judging, based on two lines I gave you about something that happened over two hundred years ago in a different time, a different life. Like all the other sheep out there, who are too lazy to inform themselves. Theyspeculate, that’s all they do.” He doesn’t smile at that, but remarkably allows me to sit his ass down onto one of the three chairs that stand on the stage. It’s Elder Jacques’s chair, I notice with a satisfied grimace.
This one’s for you, old man.
“But, you know what? The brotherhood agrees with you. We understand that times have changed, that commoners are valuable and should be rewarded for all their hard work. Which is why we give a lot to society.”
“Stop calling other people commoners, it’s disrespectful!” He seethes through clenched teeth.
“Why?” I shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with showing some respect to those who make sure you get your monthly allowance every month. To make sure that your child goes to a good, public school. That you can be treated in a hospital when you are ill.”
Régis lifts his chin, glowering up at me, his eyes a darker blueish glitter filled with indignancy and fire. “And you’re saying that your brotherhood is responsible for that?” I expect him to honor me with another show of disbelief, or anger. Instead he lets out a long sigh, then rubs his forehead, visibly in thought. “What exactly are you talking about?” His voice trembles a little, as if his brain is slowly connecting the dots that he doesn’t want to connect.
“I’m talking about loyalty, chaton.”
“Stop calling me—”
“I’m talking about sacrifice, respect, traditions.” I continue, ignoring him. I’ll call him what the fuck I want to call him. “They are the backbone of our world. Our ancestors believed so too, which is why they created the secret brotherhood. To provide a safe environment for themselves and all future members.” I pause when Régis raises his brows.
“But why keep it secret?”
