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MARLOWE

Rage.

The only emotion I could feel.

I had been touched and used and fought over, my body coveted and taken against my will. My consent ignored and spat on. Everyone I’d ever loved had been taken from me.

Even my own brother, my twin, my best friend—he wasn’t here anymore. Alaroth had destroyed him, too.

And I was done.

I felt the power within me intensify, and the pained howls of the soldiers was music to my ears. I was ready to end it all when a net of agony was cast over me and I collapsed, gasping for air while my body failed.

A pair of boots thudded on the ground near me, and then a familiar, awful face bent down to look into mine. “Wonderful, beloved. Beyond my expectations, truly.”

I tasted blood, and then sleep claimed me.

Gentle fingers caressed my cheek and I smiled. The skin was too soft to be Cam or Julian’s. Too large to be Archer or Elias’s. Nolan, then?

I opened my eyes, excited to see my dark-haired alpha, but it was aqua eyes and silver hair that greeted me instead, and I grimaced, turning my head away.

Alaroth clocked my disappointment and his expression soured. “Who were you dreaming of, beloved? Obviously it wasn’t me.”

I swiped his hand away and sat up, now remembering that my wrists had been broken. I looked at them, touching them softly and finding no lasting pain. Then I shook my head and looked up at the king, matching his foul mood with my own. “You almost killed me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. I was sure the Berserkers wouldn’t hurt you. And if I’d been wrong, I would have stepped in.”

But hadn’t he wanted me to control them where he couldn’t? Where Ezra…

Oh god, Ezra!

“What happened to my brother?”

I cried, trying to get out of bed. My jacket had been removed, and my pants were still gone, the blanket covering my bottom half.

Alaroth laughed, leaning back casually against the headboard. “So worried for him? I hope this means your little sibling squabble has been resolved.”

A lump formed in my throat, tears pooling in my eyes and threatening to spill over. “What did you do to him?”

He patted the space next to him, and I reluctantly sat back down, keeping as much distant between us as possible.

“Destroying Ezra would have been pointless; I need the both of you. He is recovering from his injuries and will join us for dinner.”

Relief flooded my veins. I hated Ezra for what he had done, but the thought of him being dead, really dead…

I pushed the images of his broken body aside, and instead focused on the other casualties from the day.

“How many people died for this experiment today?”

I asked curtly.

He shrugged, scooting closer. His hand ran over the top of my thigh. “As many as was necessary.”

“For what, though?”

My voice rose in anger, my heart beating wildly. “What exactly did you need to prove?”

He sighed and gave me a patronizing look. I wanted to punch him, and my hands curled instinctively.

“I needed to observe the two of you in real action, not just fighting with each other. Not just sparring. But how you would react in a perceived life-or-death scenario.”

He cupped my face in his large hand and lowered his nose to my neck, breathing in deeply. “You will be leading the Berserkers, after all. I knew of their potential as long as I could find someone to control them. They will be the front line, the first ones through the portals to the other realm.”

Alaroth looked up, laughing at the horror in my eyes. “You will be safe by my side in battle, of course. The shields I will cover you with are impenetrable.”

Nothing stopped those Berserkers except me, and the king wanted to unleash them on Earth. They couldn’t distinguish between soldiers and non-combatants. How many innocent people would they rip apart?

And how many Berserkers would get shot and blown up by human weapons? They were just as innocent in all this, failed experiments whose minds had been scrambled by the fae king.

Alaroth closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss, but I backed away. I had plenty to still be angry about, plenty to keep me plausibly upset and my pack safe.

He gritted his teeth. “What now, beloved?”

“You offered me up to those alphas to fuck,”

I replied, crossing my arms.

An annoyed groan sounded from deep in his chest and he rolled over on his back next to me. “You weren’t listening. I offered them an omega, not mine. There are several here we use to help keep the alphas in line.”

Somehow that felt even worse. Now I knew what happened to the omegas Alaroth didn’t find pretty enough to be his personal concubines—they just became comfort women for sex and pack-starved alphas instead.

Or sacrifices for the king’s stupid tests. That poor omega, torn to pieces…

Aside from Ezra and myself, shifters really meant nothing to him. Including Ezra and myself, we were just a means to an end.

Alaroth opened his arms and gestured for me to lay down on his chest. “Come, I wish to rest before dinner, and I would like to do so with my betrothed.”

Every cell in my body revolted at the idea of cuddling with him, but what could I do? I bit the bullet and laid back down, resting my head on his chest. His arm wrapped around me and rubbed my side, while he raised his other hand above his head.

“You and your brother,”

he started. “Am I to assume this tiresome quarrel is finished? I would like it to be over now.”

So I couldn’t be mad at Alaroth, and now I couldn’t be mad at Ezra. He just wanted me demure and pleasant at all times. His quiet, smiling, obedient queen.

“Well, you don’t really get to decide that. It’s family business.”

His hand grabbed my ass tightly. Too tightly, and I whimpered as he hissed above. “I am to be your husband, Marlowe. That makes me family as well. And I won’t have discord in my house. Fix it.”

“Yes,”

I whined quietly.

Like fuck I would. I might not necessarily want Ezra dead, again, but I’d be taking my grudge to the grave, thank you very much.