Reverse Harem. Polyamory w/ MMM. 18+. Violence. Mentions of child abuse and sexual assault not done by harem members.
Now that the Cards Royalty is all joined, there are loose ends that need to be tied up and a gluttonous wolf that is begging for...
"You're touching again, Cesca. That's a tremendous no, no. I just might have to break your hand to get our point across." He removes her hands, tutting and waggling his pointer finger. Gone is my jovial satyr. In his place is one livid dark fae.
"Who else did she touch, darlin'?" Ryder asks Jaxson.
Jaxson meets his husband's flint-like gaze. "Dom," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I've been telling you, she has been making the rounds to bag at least one of the richest guys here. You and Dom are currently worth the most in the entire school."
"It's because her family is going bankrupt, and she is about to be destitute," Ryder says in a chilling tone. "Isn't that right, Cesca?"
Here come the waterworks. Eye roll. What a weak and conniving woman, crying for being found out. She is the one who called me greedy? Puh-lease.
"I don't care which filthy rich idiot you con into marrying you with that pussy of yours, but the Kings are all off-limits. We are all married now. We all belong to Natalie and one another." People all around us are watching, but the moment Ryder, Jaxson, or I catch their gaze, they swiftly look away. "That knowledge does not leave this school," Ryder warns that if his father finds out about his latest trick, those involved will end up broke or gone.
"Why does she get to have you all to herself?! You guys are gorgeous, popular, and filthy rich. It's entirely unfair!" Francesca screeches like the banshee she is.
Jaxson throws his head back, cackling wildly. "News flash, little princess. Life isn't fair and it never will be. If life were fair, I wouldn't have been in the hospital. Rye wouldn't be limping around either or have a blind eye. So yeah, life isn't peachy," Jaxson says cynically after regaining his composure.
"The thing is, Ali will allow no other woman near us that isn't family. We will allow no other men near her that isn't family. TIT. FOR. TAT. The Queen belongs to us alone and we belong to her. Call us whipped or love drunk. I don't give a consideration," Ryder replies in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What my Kings are trying to say is get lost. Find another man that doesn't belong to me to suck dry. Life's a bitch and then you die, so get the fuck over yourself. Learn how to survive, then thrive," I tell her, reaching my good arm out to Jaxson as the bell rings. "Let's go to lunch, my Kings. I'm craving seafood."
"Remind me to get some blood from you so I can send it in for some lab work. Might need to put you on a multivitamin. Your Omega 3s or iron might be minimal. Are you anemic, Angel?" My Foxy really should become a doctor if he doesn't turn out to be a CEO. Knowing him, he could do both jobs at the same time with simplicity while running a criminal underground.
"Not that I know of, but I suppose taking vitamins couldn't hurt," I reply to him as we walk at a slow pace. Ryder is in the middle with mine and Jaxson's hands tucked inside the crook of his elbows.
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When we arrived at the cabin after school, Dominic had already begun cooking lunch. I smell something scrumptious. "What are we having?" I ask him, wrapping my arm around Dominic's waist from behind.
"Shrimp carbonara, garlic cheddar biscuits, and salad," Dominic replies in that velvet voice of his that reminds me of dark chocolate.
"I love you knew I was craving seafood. Best husband ever." I rub my nose against his spine. His chuckle vibrates my whole body.
"Go sit down, Dolcezza. Lunch will be done in fifteen minutes." I do as he says so he can place the biscuits in the oven.
Callum pulls me into his lap on the couch. He then hands me the acoustic guitar. "Play something, Ange. I need to hear your voice." I play an acoustic version of I Could Be Your King by Katherine Langford, singing to my five Kings. The Kings call me their Queen, but am I a Queen or the King of the Kings? This song has had me pondering lately. It's also been trapped in my head.
When I'm done, Callum looks at Ryder. "Renard, play her that song we've been working on," he orders.
I give the guitar to Ryder, sitting on the other side of the couch from us. Both Jaxson and Etienne are napping on the floor, lying on their backs, one arm covering their eyes and their hands intertwined between them. They are so stinking cute together!
Ryder plays a slow, lilting melody. "You never knew we were there stalking you. Hidden in the shadows. We were protecting you. Everything we do is for you." The tempo picks up, moving into the chorus.
Callum's deep, smokey voice is what I hear next. "You hold our monsters by their leash, commanding them with ease. Tell us who you want to bleed, and we will make sure it's done for you. You are more than just our Queen. Bloody little angel, you set these once-dead monsters free."
Ryder joins him as they growl together, "You set us once dead monsters free."
The tempo slows only slightly in the second verse, in which Ryder sings, "Bloody Angel, you're more than our Queen. It's only when we are alone with you that our true natures can be seen. These monsters' souls were incomplete now put together piece by jagged piece. By your side is where we find peace." Once again, my boys go back to the chorus, then the melody amps up leading into the bridge.
"We are your monsters," Callum lets out a guttural, roaring scream.
"Covered in blood. We watch them all bleed," Ryder rumbles.
"Paint our yellow roses red," Callum howls once again.
"We painted your roses red with the blood of your enemies," Ryder's growl proceeds.
"Command us monsters," Callum screams.
Ryder sings the melody, slipping back to what it was before the bridge. "We are your monsters. Don't you see? Bloody little angel, you're more than our Queen."
With those words, Callum and Ryder sing the chorus, harmonizing together perfectly.
"Bloody little angel, you set us monsters free. Bloody little angel. These monsters owe you everything." They finish in the same soft lilting melody Ryder began with. It was phenomenal.
"That is my song, isn't it?" I ask them and they both beam at me.
"Cal wants to put it on the tour list and introduce it before we put it on the next album. What do you think, Angel?" Ryder asks me with one eyebrow cocked.
"I think it will be a number-one hit single in no time," I tell them proudly.
"You're going to record and sing with us on tour this summer, Mon Ange. Your unique honeymoon with the Kings of Death," Callum whispers. His voice disappears when he sings.
I grin. That sounds like the ideal way to spend a honeymoon on tour with my favorite rock band made up of filthy rich bad boys. My very own criminal blood-soaked rockstar Kings of Death.
