Page 14

13

VEIL

I nside the Vorovsky estate, I’m left stunned.

I’m not sure what I expected. But certainly not this .

Growing up in Corutio, I am no stranger to vice and what it looks like to fall victim to the god of excess. I’ve witnessed it, yes, but I’ve never experienced it personally. Too tucked away into the dark folds of the city margins to be affected.

Even the Feast of Fools—which the god clearly influenced—held little power over me. In the past weeks, I’ve had plenty of time to mull over why I was unaffected when the others appeared almost hypnotized. I wonder if it’s partly why I managed to survive the sacrifice.

When Gemini said we were to feast, I was naive to believe we were walking into a real feast, similar to the one I had been forced to participate in on these very grounds.

But as the heir of the Foley family leads me by small tugs of the leash through the massive foyer, lofty halls, and countless stately rooms, my throat goes dry from the magnitude of excess I’m forced to witness.

Maybe there had been a feast earlier today, but all I can see now are the spoils. And a level of inebriation that I don’t think I’ve ever encountered before in my twenty-five years on this mortal plane. This seems closer to madness, a festive hysteria blackening the gaze of every person we cross paths with.

And the indulgence— my gods —the uninhibited indulgence. From gurgling down alcohol straight from the bottles to naked, writhing bodies in every state of coitus.

Eyes black.

Thoughtless.

This might not be the product of the god of lust; however, excess is kin to such gratification. Eroticism perfumes the air and appears to spur these poor souls into a whirlwind of sexual frenzy.

My gaze flicks to Gemini, who is looking at me with a feral grin from over his shoulder, his coat long ago discarded to a nameless servant. I’m a ball of nerves, awaiting what’s to come, but try to keep my expression as smooth and hard as the marble around us.

Because of the see-through material of his shirt, I can now see the tattoo sprawling the span of Gemini’s back. A snake coiling around a hand. It’s the same symbol as the necklace he fastened around my neck. The one I’ve been forced to wear ever since he kidnapped me.

I’m unsure why it takes me seeing it on Gemini’s back to connect the dots, but it dawns on me that I’ve seen this symbol before, around the Foley neighborhood.

It must be his family sigil.

The medallion pressing against my chest seems to burn my skin with the realization. I’m not sure what’s worse—wearing his family sigil around my neck or the collar and leash. Both are claiming me. Tying me to the mortal extension of the god of trickery.

I feel tricked all right …

“Here we are,” Gemini finally declares with a pleased sigh as we enter a room the size of a small house.

He leads me by the leash through the room, weaving us between countless revelers. The lighting is ambient, cloaking the room in a warm, uniform glow. Most of the walls are painted a dark wine-red with images of still life projected across them—depicting a variety of fruits spilling over plates, meats from raw to fully cooked, bread ripped open and half eaten. It only heightens the powerful pulse of excess found in every small crevice of the estate.

The room is stuffed with black couches, burgundy divans, and large, gold-threaded cushions that can fit dozens.

Even with a prudish sweep of the room as we walk, I count at least seven groups of tangled bodies, dispersed around the lofty space.

No one in the room pays us any attention, but my anxiety spikes nonetheless.

What does Gemini expect of me tonight?

“Don’t be so glum, doll.” Gemini’s voice falls down an octave as he faces me, and goose bumps break out all over my body when he smooths his hand down my arm, his nose trailing up my neck. Sensing my apprehension, he answers the question plaguing my mind. “All I ask of you tonight is to sit down and look pretty,” he whispers into my ear before catching my earlobe between his teeth.

I startle at the sensation of the quick swipe of his tongue across my skin, but I don’t move an inch.

“Can you do that for me, Veil Vulturine?”

At the sound of my full name out of his mouth, my nape tingles. It’s uncontrollable, and I loathe my dysregulated reaction every time he speaks it. Straightening back up, his chest still inches away from mine, Gemini pins me with his animalistic stare, and my mouth waters. I swallow hard and slowly nod.

“Yes,” I croak out weakly.

“What a well-behaved doll I own,” he drawls, dragging his thumb over my lips before he pushes me backward onto the couch behind me with a soft palm to the shoulder.

Before distancing himself, he lets the chained leash drop over my thighs and leans down to level his gaze with mine.

“If you suddenly crave witnessing me spill blood tonight,” he says with an arrogant lift of his full lips, “well, it’s simple really — all you need to do is let someone touch you.”

The shiver that zips down my spine is just as confusing as the squeeze in my chest at the sound of his threat, but I say nothing. I continue to stare and ignore the couple beside me, who are surprisingly fully clothed, indulging in large glasses of red wine, their lips just as red as the slosh of alcohol in their cups.

Gemini keeps his smoldering gaze glued on mine as he steps into a sunken cushioned area a few steps away from where he has me sitting. His face is painted with a mixture of hunger, arrogance, and pleasure. But there’s something in the wild undercurrent of his expression that I can’t quite place. It’s almost like … he’s trying to show off.

When he snaps his fingers and three heads swivel to attention, I realize that’s exactly what it is. He wants me to witness his influence over others.

His power.

His dominance.

A young man approaches him first, black curls framing his face. Then, moments later, a woman with auburn hair, reaching the middle of her back, approaches to his right. Both are naked.

Gemini’s eyes never stray from mine, his grin turning into nothing but a taunting slit while the duo unbutton his shirt. Another man, just as naked, kneels in front of Gemini and starts on his belt. I can’t see his face, only the back of his shaved head and the wings tattooed on his scalp.

I wish I had something to drink, or smoke, or anything to dull the edge of watching Gemini be disrobed. Instead, I’m dreadfully sober while everyone else is blissfully intoxicated.

When his shirt comes off, my eyes drop to the small diamond hanging from his left nipple. Undeniably knowing where my attention has fallen, Gemini gives the diamond a small flick with his finger. My gaze flies back to his face.

He laughs.

But I can barely hear it over the loud moans and thudding bass. The ghost of his laughter still manages to skitter across my skin, and my body unexpectedly heats.

His eyes slide down to my chest, and a flush crawls up to my neck and cheeks. I’m repulsed by such a blatant reaction to seeing him like this. Aside from the obvious reason—having been brought here by force—it feels like I’ve lost a game I wasn’t aware we were playing, until now.

The victory flashes across his irises before he reaches back to grab the man on his left by the neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss, his gaze somehow still on me.

I’m caught between two wild urges. The first is to continue watching him devour this man whole, and the second is to cast my gaze down to where the woman has now joined the other man on his knees. The latter urge eventually wins. Feeling like some kind of perverted voyeur, I gape all the same.

He’s practically begging me to.

Gemini’s pants have been pushed down his legs, his long, thick cock stroked by multiple hands at once. I catch a glint of a gold ring at the tip. A piercing. My breath hitches, and I squeeze my thighs together at the salacious sight.

I shouldn’t like this.

I shouldn’t crave to see even more of him.

But I’m growing hot with need, and I’m not sure what to do with myself, but toy with the chain now wound tight around my hands.

My attention bounces back up to Gemini’s face, and I’ve somehow missed him curling his hand around the man’s hardened cock. His mouth is open near Gemini’s cheek, panting in pleasure while one of the gods’ favorites whispers in his ear. I’m suddenly desperate to hear those very same words.

Gemini smiles, his hooded eyes flicking to mine, as if knowing exactly what thoughts are aflame in my mind. My breathing turns shallow, and I barely register when I slip closer to the edge of the couch, as if needing a better look.

I watch in consuming desire as the man with the shaved head settles behind the woman. He starts to fuck her from the back while her mouth wraps around Gemini’s cock, her cheeks hollowing around his shaft.

I can’t tell if the sensation I feel could even be described as jealousy, but it’s certainly possessive in nature. There’s even a faint bubbling of anger behind my chest. No one can touch me , but he can have as many hands touching him as he wants. I fall deeper and deeper into the confusing depth of being forced to watch Gemini being pleasured—and give it back ravenously.

He’s breathtaking.

Undeniably beautiful.

Still a snake.

But I’ve been ensnared.

Hypnotized.

His sexuality drips over every hard curve of his body—his tightening stomach, the clenching of his jaw. Dropping his chin slightly down toward his chest, he peers at me from under his lashes while he continues to fuck the man with the black curls with his fist. Again, Gemini whispers something to him, but this time, he releases him from his grasp to let him step up to the man with the shaved head still on his knees.

I stare with unbridled attention as the one on the floor opens his mouth, never losing a beat, his hips thrusting steadily against the woman’s ass. Cum spurts onto his stretched-out tongue, his eyes closing, as if he were tasting the most delicious of nectars.

My gaze flies to Gemini just in time. His eyelids flutter closed for only a second as he punches his hips forward, both hands on the woman’s head. His darkened eyes slam into mine, and for a fleeting moment, I convince myself that the same peaked pleasure painted so magnificently across Gemini’s face ravages inside of me.

My clit throbs painfully, but I stay perfectly still as I stare and stare and stare, my fingers twisting even harder into the chain leash. I’ve been tricked into some of the most heart-wrenching pleasure I’ve ever had the dis pleasure to witness.

Lazily, Gemini smooths his hair back before dropping both arms to his sides, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

A crowned prince.

A spoiled aristocrat.

The deranged glimmer in his eyes is so quiet yet so loud. Somehow, I know exactly what it means.

I’ve been caught craving the one thing that should repulse me.