Page 6 of Desecrated Reign

Unfortunately, his plan fell to shit when Liam Devereux got into that car alone. Each memory of that night fuels the hate racing through every inch of my core. The guilt eats me alive, but I will go to the ends of the earth to make him pay for the life he stole, even if it kills me in the process.

It’s no secret I’m sewn together by all the scars Gabriel left on me, each mark preparing me for this moment—taking him and everyone who helped him down.

A war is brewing, and I’m finally ready to tear his kingdom apart.

Once we reach the door, Lorcan drops to his hunkers. He deals with the lock instantly, and the door creaks open—just enough for us to slip inside. “Stay alert, kid. We don’t know what we’re walking into. Keep your eyes open and your gun high.”

“Stop worrying, Boss Man. I’ve got this.”

Once we step inside, darkness engulfs us, broken by the faint beams of moonlight filtering through the cracks in the roof above. The air is thick with dust, and the scent of musty decay lingers, transporting me back to the day in the basement when my father almost beat me to death before dropping me on Beibhinn and Liam’s doorstep.

“This is where they held me,” I whisper beneath my breath for Lorcan’s ears only. “I’d recognise that vile stench anywhere.”

My heart hammers in my chest as we cautiously move through the maze of abandoned machinery and crates. Every creak and shuffle echoes through the space, making me aware of my surroundings.

Finally, we reach the door to the basement. There’s no fear, no hesitation, only pure, unfiltered hate as my gloved hands reach for the door handle. Peering over my shoulder at Lorcan, I tip my chin towards the door, gesturing to see if he’s ready.

Lorcan nods, steadying his gun before his nose. “Don’t lose your head, kid. Remember, we need them alive.”

“Got it.”

Adrenaline surges through my veins as I pull the door open with an audible creak, giving a view of a narrow, galvanised staircase.

“Who’s there?” Donnacha’s slimy bravado travels towards us, echoing off the damp walls, but I don’t let that deter me. Instead, I raise my gun and charge forward down the creaky stairs.

The tension between Donnacha and me has been building for years, and now it has reached its breaking point. Whatever happens tonight will determine our fate. There’s no looking back after this. Donnacha chose his side, and now it’s time to pay for the sins of our father.

Determination fuels every step, drowning any fear. Memories of Saoirse’s anguish flash before my eyes—the look on her face the night I found her on the balcony with Donnacha’s hands all over her, knowing he left bruises on her perfect skin the night he attacked her in her home after luring me away. Each thought ignites a righteous anger that consumes my entire being.

With each breath, I draw strength from knowing Donnacha deserves everything that’s coming his way. He never should have used Saoirse as a pawn in his game because I’ll burn this world to the ground for her, no questions asked.

Completing my descent, I square my shoulders and stand tall, ready to rain hell on my half-brother and anyone else who thought they could mess with what’s mine.

As I step off the bottom steps, a dim light cuts through the darkness, but it’s enough to cast an eerie shadow on the stairwell. Suddenly, Donnacha appears before me, a sinister grin on his face. “Well, if it isn’t my baby brother. Come to get your arse kicked again?”

“Might be harder this time, D. Especially since I’m not chained to a fucking wall.”

Without warning, Donnacha lunges forward, his fists flying towards my face. Thankfully, I duck, avoiding the blow, then retaliate with a swift kick to Donnacha's side. The impact of my foot connecting with his ribs echoes through the basement, and he staggers back, stunned.

Seizing the opportunity, I use the time it takes Donnacha to right himself to my advantage, delivering a series of rapid punches, each strike powered by years of pent-up anger and frustration. “What’s the matter, brother?” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Can’t handle someone your own size?”

My words must damage his already bruised ego, because suddenly Donnacha packs a few hits of his own. “You’re a disgrace to the King name, Rohan. Father should have got rid of you years ago, just like he got rid of your bitch mother.”

“At least my mother wasn’t opening her legs to every cunt with a swinging dick. Unlike yours.”

We go at it again, our bodies twist and turn, the sound of our grunts and the scuffle of our feet reverberating in the confined space. The basement seems to shrink around us as we unleash our fury. My vision blurs with exertion, but I refuse to give into the pain of Donnacha’s blows.

From the corner of my eye, I spy Lorcan as he creeps around the basement, ensuring there are no surprises. He nods for me to keep Donnacha busy as he searches the space for any information we might need, knowing I have him handled.

Unfortunately, the distraction makes it easy for Donnacha to land a solid blow to my jaw, causing me to stumble backwards. “You’re pathetic, Rohan. Choosing a little slut over your own flesh and blood.”

The taste of blood fills my mouth, but his words fuel my determination. I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand, my eyes narrowing with a newfound resolve. “Flesh and blood don’t make a family, Donnacha. Loyalty does. And my loyalty will always lie with her.”

Summoning every ounce of strength I can, I launch myself at him. The force of our collision sends us crashing into a stack of crates piled up against the wall, splintering wood and scattering debris. We roll on the ground, grappling and wrestling for control.

Every muscle in my body burns, but I refuse to give in. Mustering my remaining energy, I pin Donnacha beneath me. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, I deliver a final, decisive blow, cracking my forehead against his nose and rendering him unconscious.

Breathing heavily, I stand up, my body battered and bruised, then turn on my heel to find Lorcan. With his feet crossed at the ankle, he leans against a rusty table with a shit-eating grin on his face. Drawing my gaze up his laid-back form, my eyes finally hold his as he brings his hands together in a slow clap. “Nice job, kid. Next time, don’t let him get as many hits in.”

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