Page 29

DARIUS

I’ve only ever thought about killing my nest-mates once. Today marks the second occurrence of such bloody, violent thoughts.

How could they?

Which one of them did it?

I fight against the anger to keep it from clouding my judgment. I am the alpha of my nest, and I will bring them to heel. Clearly one of those arseholes took the heart to give it to Charlotte, so either Marcus or Julius—who am I kidding. Marcus took it.

“Golden retriever bastard.” I seethe, pushing away from my desk, kicking one of the drawers I yanked from it in my haste to find the item that was the thing keeping our nest together.

He doesn’t know what the heart of the nest really means, not gifting it or even showing it to another person.

He could be royally screwing us without even knowing it.

I doubt Charlotte would even know what to do with the heart, but still.

As a witch, she has the power to take from it, destroy it if it pleases her.

The thought makes me flinch, and I grip the doorframe of my office.

Staring into the hall, I try to think of where Marcus might be with it and if I can get it back before Charlotte knows of its existence.

Not five steps down the hall, I hear it. Cries of ecstasy.

“I’m too late,” I growl, taking off at a run to chase down the sound.

Standing in front of our old armory, I pause, the sounds of mingled pleasure overwhelming me.

I am just as enraptured with Charlotte, and that could be me in the room with them, gifting her something that would mean she is ours forever.

But no. Of course, Marcus had to sneak around behind my back and ruin this. He’s too kind for his own good.

I pound my fist against the door, and I hear Charlotte shriek.

“Go away!” Marcus calls from somewhere deep in the room.

“Stop what you are doing at once. If you want to cover yourselves, I’m coming in.”

I should have just burst in. There is no need to be kind at this moment. I’ve seen both Marcus and Julius naked, and I want nothing more than to see Charlotte naked. I’ve felt her body against me, but to see her in all her glory would be an entirely different thing.

I bite my knuckle to keep the groan that rattles my chest from slipping out.

I know this witch is our mate. I feel it in the threads of my magic, but still. Trust needs to be earned, and when gifting the heart, all members of a nest need to trust the one receiving it. Atlas can never find out, or he’s going to have a heart attack.

“Come in,” Charlotte squeaks.

I shove the door open, kicking aside Marcus’ clothes and taking in the trio.

Julius and Marcus are standing beside Charlotte, regarding her with intense eyes.

Julius’ clothes are rumpled, and his jumper is hanging from a windowsill rather than on his person.

Marcus proudly stands buck naked to one side of the witch, who has pulled a paint-splattered apron over her body.

She blushes furiously and can’t seem to meet my eyes.

The box containing the nest’s heart sits precariously on the edge of a stool, and I hiss at the sight of it.

“You are a fucking fool,” I snap at Marcus, storming over and snatching up the box.

Charlotte jolts from her stool and lunges for me. Her tiny hand grips the opposite side of the box, and I swear.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers, blinking up at me, but her hand doesn’t move from the box.

“We all know it’s hers. Just give it to her,” Julius says, one of his hands drifting up to adjust his glasses, but they aren’t on his face, so it falls to his side uselessly.

“That is not how this works.” I’m trying to contain the agony roiling inside me.

“Marcus gave it to me. Doesn’t that make it mine?” Charlotte’s voice is trembling as she asks me the question.

Tears pool in her eyes, and I swear again, letting her take the box.

She scrambles back to the other two gargoyles in the room and holds the box to her chest. “I’m…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, but this is mine,” she says firmly.

I want to puff with pride but can’t seem to find the energy to feel the necessary emotion. I huff, running a hand through my hair. Between my office and here, I must have softened myself down, gone mortal in a sense to appear less threatening.

“I know it is. I don’t want to take it from you,” I tell her gently. “But Atlas…he doesn’t seem keen on courting you, even if we all are. It’s not fair to him.”

“What isn’t fair to me?” Atlas asks, striding into the room with a casual disinterest that shatters the moment he sees the heart’s box in Charlotte’s hands.