Page 1 of Fierce Monarch

Chapter One

Mari

For the first time since Cash poked his head out of the ground, I let myself get drunk. It was a safety measure for everyone, really. I was angry enough to burn down more than a few more buildings.

Nate was a Beckstrom. Cash’s brother. An Ace.

He’d betrayed me.

And now he was gone.

Cash dropped his bomb and ran before the dust settled, shepherding Nate out the door while I tried to figure out if the other leaders were going to kill me on the spot. In the end, they walked out first with the silent, seething disrespect that started coups, and I knew we were poised on the brink of an all-out war. I didn’t know how to process any of it, so I packed it away like I could shove it into a corner of my mind and forget. A problem for another day.

Today, all I could think about was my broken heart.

All this time, the traitor was closer than I ever thought possible.

I’d let him into my family, my home, my body. I’d given him all the insight he wanted into me. I’d practically begged for it. Then there were the things we talked about at night in the dark, wrapped in nothing but the soft sheets and each other’s warmth. The dreams I’d had while I was desperate for love and commitment. The words he whispered into my hair when no one was looking.

All of it—lies.

Every time I remembered, I took a drink to dull the rage, grimacing the entire time. I hated vodka. Having to drink it to numb myself made me even angrier, so I drank more until I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

Drink, rage, drink, rage.

In no time, I was through the first bottle and reaching for the second.

Which was how Greyson found me, smashed out of my mind and throwing punches at a heavy bag in my gym. I normally left the door open, but the thought of seeing someone when I was so far from okay made my skin tight. I couldn’t do it. So the door stayed closed.

I should’ve fucking locked it.

“Mari.”

His voice was careful. So careful. I hated it.

“Don’t treat me with kid gloves, Greyson,” I snarled. My knuckles were aching, swollen, and split already, but I didn’t care. I needed an outlet.

Grey stepped behind the bag, holding it for me. “Even if you need them?”

His gaze was a brand on my shocked skin, warm and so full of love I could feel it. I didn’t want to feel anything, so I avoided his eyes like it was my goddamn job. If I looked, I’d break, and I couldn’t afford to break.

“I don’t.”

I did. I absolutely did. Because I was dying inside.

Nate lied to me. He betrayed my trust. He put my people in jeopardy. He’d put me in jeopardy.

Traitor.

Was he still a traitor if he was never actually mine to begin with?

“He lied.” My voice was smooth, but my insides roiled. Grief, still fresh and bruising, pummeled me, threatening to bring me to my knees. I’d become accustomed to it early in life, the idea that no one was permanent, but the first bite was still the worst. This was no different.

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

I didn’t respond, nor did I stop punching, but Grey never stopped talking, even when I tuned him out. For the first time in so long, his voice wasn’t the soothing balm it usually was. It didn’t heal me; it made me ache. It was a reminder of what we’d lost. A future I hadn’t realized I’d been looking toward. It hurt so fucking bad to see it all blown to smithereens.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” The words pulled me back, and I stepped away from the bag. Grabbing my water bottle, I swished my mouth out and spat into the nearest trash can. Red caught my eye, and I realized half my knuckles were cracked and bleeding. The sight, the physical manifestation of my pain, made me laugh, though it was borderline hysterical. “Pretty sure I’m already there.”

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