Page 13 of Marked (Wicked Heirs #1)

The whiskey bottle was heavy in my hand as I watched my brothers, Bastian and Valen, each take a pull from their own bottles of expensive liquor.

We stood at the edge of the reception, shrouded in darkness, while laughter and merriment surrounded us.

“It’s disgusting,” Bastian hissed. His eyes narrowed as he peered past the gathered crowd toward the newlyweds. “This wedding is an insult. He’s betraying us all for his own power.”

He was right, but I wasn’t going to agree with him. Not aloud.

Instead, I took another swig of whiskey and savored the burn as it slid down my throat, before allowing a slow, calculated smile to cross my lips. “And what would you do about it, little brother?”

Bastian bristled at my question and his hands tightened around the neck of his bottle, but he didn’t have an answer.

His frustration radiating off him in waves and I took a sip of my whiskey but kept my eyes on him.

“Lucian doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Valen said bitterly. Valen, his eyes narrowed as his gaze followed the ‘ happy’ couple. Julia’s head fell back as she laughed at something our father whispered in her ear. “Messana may be under his control for now, but even the Necromi can only bend so far before they break.”

“The Necromi?” I snorted. “Is that what you’re worried about?” I couldn’t help but taunt him. “Or are you just jealous?”

I glanced at my brothers, their faces illuminated by the harsh glow of lantern lights. “Betrayal is second nature to our kind, isn’t it?”

Valen scoffed lightly, his dark eyes brooding under the stark moonlight. “We learned from the best,” he retorted dryly, gesturing toward Lucian with a tilt of his head. His voice was full of bitterness. Valen had always been the more sensitive one amongst us, and he had borne the brunt of our mockery for it.

Bastian remained silent, but his jaw was tense. His pale eyes flickered with an enigmatic light as he observed our father and Julia with relentless intensity. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, and I wondered what he was plotting.

The laughter and merriment around us seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pulsing undercurrent of anger and resentment that simmered between my brothers and me.

“Look at her,” Valen said. He gestured with the bottle of bourbon in his hand, and I finally saw Avril as she moved gracefully among the guests. “She looks... beautiful.”

I hadn’t expected her to show her face after our encounter in the alcove. But she had fixed her dress, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the way the pale gray silk, scattered with semi-precious stones, clung to her body and emphasized every curve and dip in a way that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

The memory of her breathless moan crept into my mind and I straightened my shoulders.

“Does she?” I scoffed as I tore my eyes away from her and turned them back to Valen, who kept his eyes on her with admiration and something darker, more covetous, in his gaze. “Beautiful? Captivating? Is that what we’re calling whores these days?”

“Titus, don’t—” Valen started, but I cut him off with a dismissive wave.

“Her mother is no better,” I sneered, letting my contempt for the both of them seep into every word. “They’re nothing more than opportunistic leeches, looking to latch onto our family for power and protection. Why Lucian chose to align himself with such traitorous filth is beyond me.”

Valen’s eyes narrowed as they met mine. “Filth?” He was clearly aware that provoking me further would only deepen the rift between us, and he said nothing else. I knew he wanted to. I could feel it.

My lip curled as I raised the whiskey bottle to my lips and took another swig of the burning amber liquid. “We shouldn’t waste our time discussing the worthlessness of Lucian’s latest conquests. This is just a distraction.”

“From what?” Bastian’s laugh was harsh. “It’s not distraction, Titus, it’s strategy. Avril is…an opportunity.”

“What are you talking about?” I spit the words out like a curse as my gaze cut sharply toward him.

Bastian’s shrug was noncommittal, but his pale eyes glinted like shards of ice under the lantern light.

He downed the last of the amber liquid from the bottle in his hand before he tossed it carelessly into a nearby bush.

“What she is or isn’t doesn’t matter,” he drawled out before he wiped his hand across his mouth. “What matters is how we use her.”

“But she’s— she’s not like us,” Valen protested. His words were slightly slurred from the bourbon, but his eyes were fixed on Avril, who was now engaged in a polite conversation with a small group of women. “She’s… innocent.”

I laughed, and the sound echoed strangely in the darkness. “Innocent?” I scoffed, gritting my teeth as I noted Bastian’s prowling gaze, still trained on Avril. “Innocence is the first casualty in the war for power. You should know that by now.”

“We shouldn’t have to stand for this,” Bastian said suddenly. “Does he really expect us to treat them like family? Mother dearest and our darling sister? Has he lost his fucking mind?” Bastian grabbed the bottle of bourbon out of Valen’s hand and took a swig. Valen didn’t protest, but there was a hard edge to his glare.

“Calm down,” I said, although the words felt hollow even as they left my mouth. “We all knew this day would come, eventually. One way or another.”

Bastian’s glare hardened into a deep scowl as he looked at me. “You may have accepted this,” he growled, his voice tight with barely contained rage. “But I refuse to stand by and watch while that… that…”

“That what?” I asked, leaning toward him with a cruel smile on my face. “While that traitor’s whore just waltzes in here and steals our birthright? While he promises her everything we’ve worked for? Everything we’ve taken ? Is that it?”

His eyes flashed dangerously at my words, but he remained silent as he seethed in obvious frustration.

Satisfied that I’d struck a nerve, I turned my attention back to Avril.

She was looking around now, and her wide eyes reflected the pale lights that illuminated Withermarsh’s sprawling gardens. She was dressed up in fancy clothes and jewels that sparkled as she moved. She looked just like the other women in attendance, but there was something about her that made her look out of place here amidst the experienced manipulators and hardened power- brokers that populated our family’s circles. An innocent little bird caught amongst thorns and bastards.

Instantly, my thoughts stole back to earlier when she’d cried out beneath my hand and how the soft skin of her throat had felt against my palm; the sound of her voice still echoed jarringly in my mind. My throat tightened as I took another swig from the bottle of whiskey in my hand.

I swallowed hard and stared down at my younger brother, letting him feel the weight of my gaze. “I am our father’s heir, and his word is law within these walls.”

“For now,” Bastian muttered.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me,” Bastian snapped. “You think that traitorous bitch isn’t planning to take everything for herself?”

“I don’t care what she plans,” I replied, my voice icy and condescending as Avril engaged in conversation with the women who surrounded her. Her laughter floated over to us in the cool evening air, like the soft notes of a lullaby, but I could hear the uneasiness in it. She was uncomfortable here.

Good.

“She’s only a small part of whatever game our father is playing. And pieces like her have only one purpose: to be traded away— or sacrificed when the time comes.”

Bastian let out a derisive snort and gestured wildly with the liquor bottle and I watched as its contents sloshed against the glass. His icy eyes were bright with anger and defiance. “Maybe,” he agreed, his voice was spiteful, “But have you considered what role Avril is supposed to play? Our newly acquired sister ?”

I scowled at his implication. My gaze snapped to him. His words hung heavily in the cold air between us, but I refused to take his bait. Bastian loved nothing more than to provoke me and edge me closer and closer to that fine line between sanity and madness. It was a line I’d danced along far too many times for my liking.

Valen staggered slightly and leaned heavily against me as he tried to regain his balance.

He blinked owlishly at us before he swiped a hand across his mouth. “She’s not like you,” he said as he pointed a shaking finger at each of us, “or you... or me.”

“Because she’s useless?” Bastian sneered, rolling his eyes at Valen’s defense of Avril. “You’ve seen it yourself, you’ve felt it. She doesn’t even have any power worth taking.”

I pushed Valen away, and he laughed as he stumbled into one of the carefully sculpted topiary trees.

“Get your shit together,” I snapped. “She’ll learn her place.”

“Her place?” Valen scoffed. “What does that even mean, Titus?”

My eyes raked over him with disdain. “Every member of this family has their role,” I sneered, my voice dripping with contempt. “Our father has clawed his way to power and fortune with ruthless cunning, not by playing favorites or holding onto misplaced loyalties. Whatever safety that little bird thinks she has? It’s an illusion.”

“And you’re going to show her?” Valen shook his head as he laughed. “I don’t know why you care what Lucian is doing. Like you said. We have our own ambitions—”

“Really?” I asked, my tone mocking. “Forgive me, brother, but sometimes I wonder if you have any ambition at all.”

“Of course I do,” Valen snapped, the strain of maintaining composure was clear in the tightness of his jaw.

He was drunk—but I’d never seen him this out of control.

It was usually Bastian who spoke out of turn. Not Valen.

Valen took a breath and pushed away from the tree. He examined his palm briefly and then rubbed his hand against the side of his thigh. “But I don’t believe in sacrificing everything for power.”

I snorted and took another sip from the bottle in my hand. Bastian had almost finished the one he’d taken from Valen.

How was he still standing so steadily?

“You’re an idiot,” Bastian snarled. “You know better than that.”

Valen shook his head, but said nothing.

“Do you think she does?” I asked as I gestured in Avril’s direction. She was surrounded now by women who were as dangerous as serpents, and I could see their falsely eager smiles gleaming in the lantern light. Avril was visibly shrinking under their attention, and her eyes were wide with fear that she was failing to hide.

It was tempting to just let her be and allow her to live in that na?ve little shell that had protected her for so long.

But it wasn’t in my nature to show mercy or kindness.

No one had ever shown it to me.

She was a Romano now, and she had to learn that this was no place for weakness to fester.

Valen frowned at me and his hand curled into a fist at his side as he swayed on his feet. “Do you even care? Or are you just going to use her like you do everyone else?”

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” I replied, my gaze drifting back to Avril.

Bastian laughed at my words, and I ignored him, focusing on Avril instead.

Valen let out a grunt and walked away from us toward the brightness of the party.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“Getting a drink,” he snarled back. Valen’s pace was unsteady, but he seemed determined despite it.

Idiot .

Valen didn’t want to admit to anyone, even himself, how hard he had fought to take the position he held. When he sobered up, he’d regret what he’d said—and there was no way I was going to let him forget it.

He’d be begging me not to say anything to Lucian about it.

“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” Bastian asked as he stepped closer to me and took a swig of bourbon.

“No,” I said as Valen’s tall frame disappeared into the crowd. The festive lights twinkled in the distance, casting glimmers of multicolored light across his back.

As I turned away, my eyes found Avril once again.

Everything about her screamed vulnerability. It was almost sad how out of place she looked. She knew she didn’t belong here.

Good.

Her mother had immersed herself into the society that swirled around our family as though she had always been a part of it, and I loathed the entitlement I saw in her smiles and heard in her laughter.

“Does it bother you?” Bastian asked, nodding towards Avril. His question echoed through the cool night air, breaking through the rhythmic hum of the party behind us.

“What?” I scoffed. My gaze lingered on Avril’s lithe figure, draped in the extravagant gray silk gown that had made my breath catch when I’d first seen her earlier in the day.

“That she doesn’t belong here,” Bastian clarified with a sardonic smirk. “That she’s got no idea what she’s walked into.”

Despite his constant provocations and irritating personality, Bastian had a knack for striking at the heart of things.

It didn’t matter whether he did it deliberately or stumbled upon the truth by accident; his words had a way of stirring up thoughts and feelings I’d rather leave buried.

“She’ll learn,” I murmured after a moment .

Bastian snorted at my curt reply and lifted the bottle of bourbon to his lips again.

I glanced back at the party and saw Valen leaned against a table, frowning at a collection of liquor bottles before he grabbed one, unscrewed the cap, and tossed it into the grass.

If there was one trait that we all shared, it would be our affinity for self-destruction. Whether it was drowning ourselves in alcohol or constantly engaging in the power struggles our father pushed us toward, the three of us were destined to crash and burn.

Maybe that was what Lucian wanted.

My father and his new bride moved through the crowd of guests and my eyes narrowed as I caught sight of them. Julia’s coldly beautiful face turned toward my father as she whispered something in his ear, and his pale fingers gripped her shoulder. His fingers dug into her smooth flesh and Julia’s head fell back with an expression that was twisted between pain and ecstasy.

Disgusting.

My grip on the whiskey bottle tightened.

I wasn’t going to give the old man what he wanted.

In fact, I was going to take everything from him…