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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

NASH

I should’ve known seeing Vale like this would be my undoing … in the best way.

She looks like a queen tonight, rich with power and grace. Yes, she looks like my future wife and mother to my children.

Possessively, I hold her hand. It starts trembling as I proudly guide her past the wall of my brothers dressed in black suits.

Well … most of them. One better not join us tonight. He could ruin everything.

Sire gently bows to Vale, the heart tattoo under his eye crinkling with his smile. Grant gives her an approving wink. Jace softly smiles at her while Axel surprises me.

Who’s the woman he brought to Vale’s initiation?

Axel initiated our first queen years ago, but then he lost her. She vanished without a trace, and it’s as if she took Axel’s noble soul with her and left him with a cold, angry heart.

Yes, he fucks other women. He has very dark, primal urges he can’t fight, but I’ve never seen him share his heart again. Until now.

Axel would never bring a woman into our sanctuary unless she means something to him. Unless he’s testing her to make sure, she won’t run this time.

It leaves me full of questions watching Vale meet our sixth king.

Nick wraps his hulking arms around her, gently kissing her blushing cheek. “Finally, Nash gets his beauty, his Belle. He’s been suffering a long time without you.”

Of course, Vale recognizes him. Nick is the NFL’s leading defensive end and a local hero. Of all the brothers, he leads the most public life, though ironically, he hides the most.

No one but us knows he was once Nikofor Kholodov. Only a few trusted friends and we know Nick is gay and proudly in love with his queen, our queen.

It’s an odd label for the man Nick loves. But Zar Rollins wears his title with pride. His Texas swagger and billionaire clout are not threatened by any role. They only prove his love for Nick. It only proves the power of being one of our queens. We worship him, too.

“But you’re…” Vale stammers, unsure if she should reveal how else she knows Nick. “You’re with?—”

“Zar?” Nick grins. “And Luca and Scarlett Mercier, your loyal customers? Yes. But this, my queen, is our big secret.”

Vale promises, “I’ll protect it.”

“I know.” Nick hugs her again.

I lead Vale past the row of white velvet queens’ chairs with ornately carved legs and backs painted gold. They sit opposite our black velvet kings’ chairs, with a large, black leather-tufted platform between them and a sapphire velvet bench at the top.

Guiding Vale to the bench, I hold her hand as she sits gracefully, scanning the room like she’s never seen it before.

It’s the former owner’s suite, with a high black ceiling meeting black walls trimmed in ornate molding gilded in gold leaf. The tall windows at one end are covered by gold velvet curtains, billowing over the original parquet floors. The view outside overlooks the guarded courtyard.

I’m sure Vale saw this room before Axel claimed it. But she’s never seen it transformed like this.

Around the room stand tall, golden candelabras, holding flickering tapered candles. Their ivory wax drips in romantic rivulets onto the glass squares beneath them.

In one corner stands a princely, antique mahogany table with gold trays brimming with treats for the night, a crystal decanter of vodka, and over a dozen crystal glasses.

At the top of the room, centered on the wall, stands a lone red velvet throne. Black, gold, white, and red: they’re the colors of Russian royalty reflected in this room, and that’s clearly The Queen’s unoccupied throne.

More gold candelabras hold ivory tapered candles on a matching table in the opposite corner as each king silently lights one. It’s an orthodox tradition as I offer a prayer—to who, I’m not sure—but all I can do is hope for Vale to be mine from tonight and always.

And please, God. The devil? Anyone? Don’t let me murder Jace.

I blow out my match.

Sire pours our shots in perfect timing with a coded knock at the door.

Grant smiles, turning to open it for our queens.

Wren, our newest, enters wearing a black velvet corseted minidress. Every time I see her dainty face and lithe body, I have to remind myself … she’s of age . She’s twenty.

Hell, she’s more. Wren fought to be Sire’s queen. No one can deny her fierce desire to be here.

Delphine, who’s much taller with proud, feminine curves, strides behind her in a similar black satin corseted mini dress, but hers has a long, sheer, black chiffon skirt. That woman is French, through and through. Even Delphine’s blonde hair, twisted in a messy bun, and her long bangs, skimming her smoky eyes, reveal it.

Last but never least, Nick’s queen saunters into the room. Damn, I love his style. Zar chose a black velvet tuxedo tonight, his dark waves styled like a handsome devil.

My stare slides to Vale, who’s stunned silent. Each queen greets her next with kisses on her cheeks, their smiles warm and welcoming.

With a round of vodka shots served by Sire, we stand, circling Vale. She sits proudly as we hold our crystal glasses high in a silent toast to her, and for a moment, I don’t believe I’m here.

Guess this is the feeling of a dream coming true. Guess this is love because each time I think Vale can’t look any more beautiful, I’m so wrong.

I toss my shot back before noting the goosebumps blooming over her alabaster calves.

Vale feels it, too.

The kings escort their queens to their thrones before taking their thrones across from them. I stand before Vale with my hands clasped, my eyes anchored to hers as Axel drones on about tradition, honor, and vows.

The whole time, his mystery woman kneels on a golden velvet pillow, her masked face submitting to his lap, his hand caressing her head.

Vale’s grey eyes grow wide, taking in the story Axel shares of their escape from Moscow, why their mother hid them here, how we chose this tradition years later, and why we fight for what we do now.

Yes, it’s sacred to us. It’s our history and bond, but I’ve heard it all before.

I want my queen.

I’ve waited too damn long for her.

I’m impatient to begin, my heart pounding to claim her. She’s always been mine.

Finally, Axel concludes, “Do you, Nash Allen, with a free and unconstrained will, claim Vale Monroe as your queen?”

I nod, reaching for Vale’s right hand. Lifting it to my lips, I kiss her third finger and vow, “I do.”

“Will you guard her, above all, with your life? Will you love her, above all, with your heart? Will you die for her, with no hesitation, leaving her your soul?”

I swallow, lost in the tears welling in Vale’s eyes. “Always.”

“Will you, Vale Monroe,” Sire begins, “with a free and unconstrained will, accept our brother, Nash Allen, as your king?”

Vale chews her trembling lip.

Don’t cry, poison.

I kneel, cupping her cheeks, feeling all the years I couldn’t have her rush through my veins until finally, my fingertips tingle, holding her before me now.

The years she suffered alone, waiting for me, swim in her eyes, too. They make her tears fall, wetting my palms, her beautiful, silent emotions strangling my throat. Her lips tremble as if, for the first time … Vale can’t speak.

I nuzzle my forehead to hers. “Time to use all those words you love, poison.”

“I will...” She stammers, smiling, “I mean … I do. I take Nash as my king.”

“Will you love him, above all, with your heart? Will you give him, more than any other, a life worth fighting for? Will you honor him, even in death, as his queen?”

“Forever,” she promises.

“Deliver them, safe from wrath and danger,” Sire prays aloud as I pull Vale’s lips to mine. “Preserve their bed and fill their home.” Our lips part, her tongue and breath meeting mine. “Let them see their children’s children.” I deepen our kiss, my heart hitching and wanting nothing more. “Unite them into one flesh, one family with us.” I taste Vale’s tears. They make me fight mine. “Crown them, king and queen together, tonight, and in the stars forever.”

“I love you, my poison,” I murmur over our lips.

“I love you, too,” she whispers, “you sexy dickhead.”

She makes me chuckle into our kiss as Wren softly sighs, “Aw, they belong together.”

For an hour, we celebrate.

Kings and queens laugh and catch up, though I don’t miss how Axel remains seated with the mystery woman’s covered head in his lap.

Vale and I light a candle together, and I grin, knowing her prayer. It’s the same as mine— little Wednesday Allen.

We raise another round of shots. Caviar on canapes is passed before Sire blesses the Korovai, the traditional Russian wedding bread, hand-braided and prepared by Nadine. I serve Vale a bite before she does the same to me.

Later, I’ll give Vale the wedding of her dreams. I’m sure it will be gothic and glamorous, and I won’t be surprised if she walks down the aisle to the Addams Family theme song.

But now?

Christ, I want this woman.

“It’s time,” I tell my brothers.

Silently, they nod, settling onto their thrones while Axel and his woman remain on his.

I whisper to Vale, “Go refresh in the restroom down the hall. We’ll wait for you.”

Wren joins her. Delphine, too.

While they’re gone, Zar takes his place on Nick’s lap, as Nick jokes with me, “Damn, Nash. It’s about time. You’ve been a very patient man.”

“It only took… What?” Grant asks, “Ten years?”

“Twelve,” I answer. “And fuck patience. I was protecting Alena, but she’s old enough to accept it now. One day, I hope.”

Silence falls over us before Nick jerks his chin left toward the seventh throne. The empty one. “Is he coming?”

“I ordered him to join us,” Axel answers.

He makes Sire scoff, “Like he listens to anyone but Nash.”

“He better obey me,” Axel seethes before I snarl, “He better not?—”

“He knows what to do!” Axel barks. “It’s fine.”

Flaring my nostrils, I’m about to fight him on this. Seven should NOT be here. But Wren and Delphine bound into the room with Vale. “She’s very ready!” They giggle, guilty as fuck.

“Come here!” I command Vale, lust and fury thrumming through my veins.

Swishing my way, Vale smiles from ear to black diamond ear, but I pull her toward me, whipping her around, all humor escaping when I crush her petite back against my chest. Grabbing her delicate throat, I feel her excited pulse as Wren sits with Sire and Delphine drapes over Grant.

Jace is the only king with no queen, no one kneeling before him either.

Suddenly, it evaporates my rage.

I love Jace. I love that he taught Alena how to ride a bicycle; I was too protective to see her fall. I taught her how to shoot, but Jace taught her how to dress her first kill: a deer. She cried some, and Jace never chided her. He patiently talked her through it.

He looks like an alluring devil, just like his father, but he’s a good man.

Maybe he’s more like me than I realize. Maybe, like me, tonight he’ll keep his vow to his family while he waits for the love of his life, too.

It’s not Vale. No man loves Vale as I do.

But I know Jace cares for her. And once I tell my massive ego to shut the fuck up, my humanity reminds me; Vale may need him to protect her. So, I give Jace this.

I stand, holding Vale before him while I reach around, unbuttoning her pink jacket, one gold button at a time, before sliding it off her milky shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

Underneath, she’s wearing a black lace bra, the contrast to her creamy skin, breathtaking.

I unzip her skirt, noting her ribs softly heaving in anticipation. All watch as it falls, revealing her matching black lace thong.

Without my command, she proudly kicks her skirt away, staring at my brothers in her lingerie and heels.

Peering over her shoulder, I lick my lips at her aroused nipples under her sheer lace. Claiming her neck, I bite it, marking her as mine, making her gasp before I command, “Tell me to stop at any point, and I will.”

“Don’t you dare,” she sighs. “You know what I want.”

“My pretty little poison.” I press my lips to her ear, grinding my hard cock against her ass. Pulling her lace cups down, I expose her breasts, tickling her nipples until she moans, and I taunt, “Let’s show my brothers how you torture me with these.”

Playing with Vale’s luscious tits, I make Axel lick his lips, too, his fist reaching for the mystery woman’s hand, guiding it to stroke his hard cock, covered by his black pants.

Sire’s inked fingers snake under Wren’s dress. He starts playing with her pussy; it’s obvious by how she leans back and spreads her legs for him. “Yes, my lord,” she gasps for him.

Vale pants at their adoration, their amorous reaction as Delphine proudly unzips Grant’s pants, freeing his pierced cock.

Nick does the same to Zar. Nick may not be attracted to women, but Zar is. He’s hard and attracted to all.

It’s only Jace who remains stoic.

He doesn’t free himself, but he can’t deny the thick erection strangled under his pants. With slanted eyes, he watches her writhe against me as I roll her nipples between my fingers, making her moan when I gently tug them.

“Tell them how long you’ve wanted me,” I demand while sliding my hand under Vale’s panties, tickling her hard clit, and making her pant, “Since I was eighteen.”

“Tell them how you want me now.” I plunge my fingers inside her tight cunt. Her slick lust coats my pumping digits as she grinds against my cock, confessing, “Every way, my king.”

“Shall I make you my queen?” I coax, biting her neck again, leaving another exquisite bruise.

“Yes,” she pants.

“Then get on your knees on the bench, bend over, and spread your cheeks.” I relish the command, “Show my brothers what’s mine to fuck.”