Page 40 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

The real problem is that they’re a lost herd with no shepherd to follow.

Ares. Zander. Warren.

They don’t believe they’re capable of being leaders, despite carrying the traits to rise to the challenge and position of leading others.

This is why this gala has to happen.

“What I fear, Sweet Canary, is that we won’t be given the privilege to do exactly that.” With those words, he leans in to give me one final peck on the lips. Then he’s out the door, leaving me to stare and wonder what’s in store for us all.

I could be like any other obedient Maiden and sit here, hoping my remaining Kings can figure shit out and take the lead on this maddening ride.

Sadly, I’m not like other obedient Maidens.

With a sigh, I shift myself on the ottoman so I can stare at my reflection. I do that for a full minute before catching onto the tiny hint in this room that proves every environment I’m in has a cunning secret that blends far too perfectly into the chosen aesthetic. It makes me smirk as I rise and turn around.

Walking over to the door, I proceed to close it.

Then I lock it.

The click of my heels only accentuates the silence in the room. How comforting it could be if I wasn’t going to be a bit defiant and cunning for a Maiden who should be nothing but a broken mess.

Reaching the tall mirror in its exquisite golden frame, I stare at my reflection while giving one admiring moment to the dress that dawns on my body perfectly. I have lost some weight—which is noticeable and rather annoying to acknowledge—but I vow to fix that once this shit is behind us.

For now, this is the woman all those bastards and bitches will be forced to acknowledge.

Lifting my gaze to the top part of the mirror, I admire the golden frame design that’s filled with uniquely carved flowers that go along the fragile piece of work. It is stunning and is probably expensive.

It’s also made with intention.

My smile taunts my lips as I reach up until my finger traces along the image that’s so perfectly blended with the floral carved accents.

A golden bunny amid flowers.

With a light press, it clicks inward, and I take a step back to admire the mechanics that are unfolding before my eyes. The mirror slides to one side, the sound so flawlessly quiet, it encourages my smile to grow.

“Always be aware of your surroundings,” I say the words of wisdom I remember from my younger years.When I decided I’d no longer be a damsel in distress.“Especially when they’re decorated with bunnies.”

The chuckle that serenades the air sends shivers down my spine, but it’s nothing like how the tall figure walks so effortlessly out of the pitch of darkness, this mirror easily hides from the world.

This tunnel that can lead to darker secrets in our fucked-up society.

“Maybe I should change the animal of choice?” he offers with intrigue while his cunning grin grows. His eyes are already admiring me from head to toe, and it’s hard not to admit howsuch an intense stare of intent can make my body do sinful things.

He’s still a stranger in my eyes.

Yet carrying so many familiarities that make me want to scream.

“I like bunnies,” I confess at the mere thought of no longer catching onto those hidden signs.The joy and thrill it gives to know I’m always being watched by this man.“Diabolic little buggers.”

“I agree,” he whispers and offers his hand. “I wonder if their owners are just diabolic when they commit to the tax of raising such furry fuckers?”

I stare at this open gesture, knowing this is my last shot to walk away.

To give up on this burning need for vengeance and return to a life as fake and preposterous.

“I’d rather be diabolical than merciful,” I whisper dangerously, no emotion in my voice.

No. There is. Yet, it’s so subtle, I’m not sure I wish to acknowledge the truth in the hidden tone.

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