Page 28 of Marked

“I told you, I have—” Changed. Yeah. The words don’t come though. Because we’re interrupted by Elder Jacques. He approaches, followed by the two other Elders, and his golden cane thumps on the wooden flooring with every step he takes.

“At last, my boy,” he says. Next to me, Romain flinches, then straightens his shoulders. Someone must have given him his knife back along the way—I’m guessing that little cutie Olivier—because it shimmers in the twilight in his palm. “Romain … Bienvenue. You won the Wicked Chase. Are you ready for your Initiations?” He gestures toward the sex swing with a leering smirk on his face.

“I—uhm—” Romain begins. He takes a step forward, but then?—

“Not so fast.” Two guys come forward, and though they might be cloaked and masked, I’d recognize them everywhere. Alexandre grins my way, then turns back to Elder Jacques. “My brothers and I decided to change up the celebration after the Chase this time. Variety is the spice of life, right?” He takes a step toward Romain, the slithering asshole-friend he is. “You get to choose, Romain. Either you go ahead with the Initiations and become our brother and this crazy guy’s chosen one, or you choose your own future and are gifted this for your participation.”

Arsène holds out a black-and-white kitten who takes that moment, while Romain is watching it with stars in his eyes, to let out a soft mewl. “For you. If you want it.” He nudges my way. “Or you can be the kitty cat and let your bad boy have you. What’s it going to be?”

CHAPTER 10

ROMAIN

Ican only stare at the cat. She’s so tiny in that large hand, black with white flecks and big, green eyes. “I—” She stretches, yawning, then blinks and looks my way. “You’re so precious,” I whisper. I can’t help it. I want her, safely tucked inside my palm, pressed tightly against my chest. I want to caress its soft fur and nuzzle his tiny head.

“I think we have a winner,” one of the two guys says, the triumph followed by chuckles from everywhere around us. Flicking up my gaze, I allow myself to gaze around the room. Terrifying, is the first word that comes to mind. With too many cloaked brothers, as they call them, guys who might even be in my class, lingering about. Watching me. It’s absurd. And yet…“Would they be my brothers?” I ask.

“Oui.”

I flush at the sound, immediately recognizing the guy from before. My dick remembers too, lengthening with blood as my ass clenches.

I never had any siblings. It was always just me and Maman, whom everyone knew because she was the town’s junkie.

I turn to face Edouard, who hasn’t moved and still stands by my side, his dark, brooding glare already focused on mine. Whatever it is my mind is formulating, my throat won’t let me speak. It feels thick and dry and part of me wants to run forward and grab that little bundle of mine, mine, mine and the other one wants to throw himself in Edouard’s strong arms. I have never owned anything.

But I was owned. It was Edouard who bought my clothes. Edouard who did my homework with me. Edouard who chained me to his bed and used my mouth when his friends were around. Edouard, who tucked me in his bed and kept me warm, licked away the blood from my neck after he’d carved his mark on my skin. The mark I had chosen. It had hurt so badly. But shortly after, a deep, thrumming sensation had run through my veins, and I had never felt so loved before.

We belonged.

I snort at my own memory. I’m fucked up. Which is why I should never, ever, give in to him again. My knees tremble at the thought.

Jamais?

Never.

“It’s not good,” I whisper, and I think of the way Father Benoît had looked at me. Despise, thick and destructive. “You will see. And I can’t. I?—” ”

“Romain.” His voice is as gentle as his appearance is, as Olivier walks toward me, leaving his lover’s chest. His hands come up and he surprises the hell out of me when he sweeps his mask from his head in one, smooth movement, revealing a messy mop of auburn strands. He smiles sweetly, then looks around, clearly seeking approval, which he gets with a curt jerk of Alexandre’s chin. He swirls his head back to me, and I clench my hand around my knife, eyes darting around to see if anyone is watching. For some strange reason, they’re not. The piano is still playing through the incense-foggy room, and when I see the blindfolded player, my heart rattles in my throat.

I know that song… ”Moonlight Sonata” by Beethoven. I’ve listened to him play it countless times in the woods, when he didn’t think anyone was listening. Mourning over his brother who died here, in the woods of Monterrey Castle. Dominique Devallée is a member of this secret brotherhood?

Who isn’t? There were rumours, sure. Like any toxic, imprisoned environment gossip is its own form of currency. I just never thought them to be…I let out a despised grunt, then lift my knife in panic when Olivier takes another step forward.

“Stay back,” I snarl. The kitten mewls and the sound pulls on the strings of my heart. Olivier just smiles at me, watching the way my hands tremble.

“So Edouard didn’t really explain, did he?”

“Explain what?” I make another faint movement with the knife, but it doesn’t stop him from taking another step toward me. And another. My eyes dart to the kitten. She’s so pretty, with the black and white. I want her. And I want her to love me.

“The brotherhood gives people like you and I a second chance. We weren’t born privileged, but we can be, by becoming a brother.”

“How?” I ask, and I could bite my tongue for letting his words get to me. Edouard did tell me just yet, how he wanted me to rewrite my own future by joining the Alpha Fraternarii, but something about this guy makes me want to hear it straight from his mouth. As if it becomes more true like that.

He reaches out his hand for me to take. Behind him, his boyfriend, the horse rider, takes a step toward us.

“Alexandre,” Edouard barks, who flicks his gaze up to meet Edouard’s, grinning.

“Feels weird now that the tables are turned, right?”

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