Page 53 of Tyrant

She touches her hips.

I want to tear that dress off her body and fuck her until I’m about to come and then pull out of her tight cunt and paint her dress with my cum.

Behind me the front door opens. It’s Peri, Vic, and Demo. They’re dressed the same as me. They walk right by me, toward Serafina.

Her entire body tenses up. She wants to run but she knows better. If she dares try then thebroodwill have to forcefully take her down. And if I step in to stop it I’ll be punished.

I’m not sure who is who in the masks and robes. One grabs Serafina by her right arm. Another by her left arm. The third pushes at her back, ensuring she starts to walk and will continue to walk.

I step out of the way and watch as they lead myclaimed oneaway. Through the front door. And just like that, she’s gone. Her scent hanging in the air.

My hands curl up into tight fists. Right now, Serafina will be lead to an all-black vehicle, with black tinted windows. She will be tossed into the trunk like a bag of groceries. I can’t help but figure she will panic. She has a tendency to panic. Picturing her freaking the fuck out and kicking and thrashing and possibility hurting herself by accident… it does bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. She’s a fucking new arrival in need of being claimed and trained. Broken and passed along. That’s fucking it.

I think about the teddy bear on her bed. Headless. Button eyes ripped off the cloth face. It could have been a message. Or it just could have been Des acting like a stupid fucking prick. Giving a hint at the kind of husband he’ll be. A violent and abusive husband. Willing to drug his own wife. Willing to threaten her. Scare her. Even when it doesn’t need to happen. Carefully torturing Serafina until she does something to stop it all.

Goddamn you, Tyrant. This is not your fucking problem. She’s a new arrival. She’s a fucking whore, or she will be soon enough. She’ll be broken. Then you’re done with her. After that, you can fucking pass her along to Demo, Vic, Peri… whoever.

The thought of Serafina with one of them. The thought of Serafina with Des—her future husband…

To my right there’s a black and white picture on the wall. It’s a stone road with huge, lumbering trees on each side. The picture has been on the wall since I’ve lived here.

I move the picture off the wall, then punch the wall with a grunt, shattering the drywall. My fist goes into the wall and I pull it back out. I rehang the picture, flex my hand, and then leave.

The ceremony is about to begin.

I enterthePergand Serafina stands in front of the throne.

She’s looking at me. Her eyes are puffy, glistening. As I figured, she’s been crying. Panicking. She’s alone in a room full of men dressed in all black with masks. And, yes, somewhere in this mix of masked men, Des is here.

Luc is seated on the throne.

Once I stop walking toward Serafina, that’s when Luc rises up to his feet. He towers over myclaimed one. I watch as his hands touch Serafina’s shoulders.

The dress I’ve chosen for her has thin, spaghetti-like straps, meaning right now my brother’s fingers are touching plenty of bare skin on myclaimed one.

To be fair, in all realness for thePerg,thelegion,and thebrood, if Luc made a command, it would be followed. If Luc demanded Serafina fall to her knees and suck his cock, she would do so. If Luc demanded Serafina to fall to her hands andknees as he wanted to fuck her from behind, that’s exactly what would happen.

My jaw tightens as a fiery rage attacks me. I refuse to believe it’s jealousy. I just know what is mine right now. I’m not going to dwell on the future. I just want myclaimed oneback so I can continue to play.

Luc’s fingers move toward Serafina’s neck. His fingers then begin to interlock. I remain completely still.

“Are you ready?” Luc asks Serafina.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes…? Yes, what?”

“Yes,Sir,” myclaimed onesays to my brother.

Luc releases his hold on her and sits back down.

“Tyrant, step forward and begin,” Luc speaks.

I close in on Serafina. My right hand reaches for her throat and I squeeze. Not super hard but enough that her eyes go wide, welling with fresh tears. I’m sure part of her wonders if it’s really me.

I can’t fucking believe myself when I grab her right hand and lift it up and toward my chest. Allowing her to feel my nipple piercing through my robe and shirt, assuring her that I am herace. There’s a hairpin curl of a smile at the left corner of her mouth.

I squeeze her throat harder. “Down on your fucking knees,claimed one.”

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