Page 1 of Hell Storm

CHAPTER ONE

Brimstone

The wage of sin: death, carnage and pain.

Tis upon us now. Will its sting never wane?

In times of old, our hope once held.

With wrath so bold, rebellion’s voice now quelled.

Pride and courage stripped away by war.

A horizon of darkness upon us evermore.

A passage from ‘Red Prose: A Collection of Cautionary Children’s Folksongs’

Origin: Postbellum North America

Year of publication: Unknown

Author: Unknown

Status: Banned from publication and distribution

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Corina

A small crystal globe danced in my vision. It once rested on a bookcase, but now hung suspended in midair, bathed in the glow of warm firelight as it swirled in smooth circles.

I hadn’t been inside this space yet, Julian’s study. So far, I’d only laid eyes on areas along the way, from the grandiose foyer to the Blue Suite—which had been labeled mine. I had to wonder if being invited into one of the more “intimate spaces” of his home, among his Dynasty Brothers, was Julian’s attempt at gradually assimilating me into this life.

I imagined myself as a vibrant, red thread, forcibly woven into his dark tapestry—out of place, disrupting the balance.

A glint of light caused me to peer up when the globe I’d been fixated on changed course, drifting across the room now. It came to rest gently in the hand of the one who controlled it—Levi.

I felthis curious stare long before our gazes locked; felt it even as my vision of him shifted to his slightly parted lips. The undertones of a wicked smirk I now knew to be his default expression were evident. He sat calmly—amidst our collective turmoil and drama—slouched in an armchair as if life as we knew it hadn’t just been turned upside down suddenly.

No, Levi was not rattled. In fact, as his gaze climbed the length of my legs, past my torso to gawk at my chest, I was pretty certain ‘worry’ was not his prevailing thought.

In the twelve hours since the press conference debacle ended, he and I hadn’t exchanged many words. Not even when the magistrate arrived with paperwork, making the others’ ownership of me official—like it already was for Julian.

But those heated glances between Levi and I, those loaded stares, they made my pulse quicken. I realized something very quickly. One could never quite prepare for the force of nature that was Levi Buchanan.

The flagrant masculinity that seeped from his pores.

The thick, unapologetic sensuality that took rest in whatever space he occupied.

Even now, all he’d done was sit and stare as the globe churned in his palm, but it was enough. Enough to leave me in need of a cigarette, and I didn’t even smoke.

Focus, Cori. Focus.

My eyes peered down at the binder, slamming it shut when I remembered why we were all here, the princes and myself. All four had sat quietly while I read Silas’ propaganda. There was no other word for it—a sales pitch meant to explain the innerworkings of a blood bond.

He once intended to present it as a choice, but now, it had all but been forced on me, on them. If I refused, I’d likely be killed right alongside Julian when the truth came to light. In short, his lifeandmine depended on it.

“Do you have questions?” Silas asked reluctantly. “We’re here to answer them as best as we can.”

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