Page 4 of Heavy is the Crown
“What?” I ask, fighting against the two immortals holding me. “What do you mean?”
He pulls another cigarette out and lights it, taking a deep drag before blowing it out in my face. My father’s dark eyes peer into mine. His head is shaved, but if it weren’t, we would have the same black hair. “You have your mother's eyes,” he says, almost like a curse. “You should have died that day.”
Don’t react. Don’t react.I bite the inside of my cheek to focus on the physical pain over the emotional pain. Because I can’t argue with him. It really should have been me who died that day, or any day following.
“Drago!” he yells abruptly.
My stepbrother meanders out of the shadows, his white hair gleaming in the light. Even in this dingy cell, he looks beautiful. My chest pulls toward him. He looks over at me, emotion briefly flashing in his eyes before a mask of indifference slips back on. My mind flashes to our stolen moments together. Sweat-slicked bodies. Moans of pleasure. The feeling of Drago’s pierced cock in me. Moments of gentleness as he held me and let me break apart. Those stolen moments have kept me alive through this hell for the past two years. And I’ve let myself fall for him. Despite everything, I let my heart fall for him.
“What?” His flat voice conveys no emotion. Utter boredom smooths his face. But I can see the slight clench of his fist, the only tell that he is angry.
My father turns to him but motions toward me with a hand. “Shadow is leaving. I’ve made a deal with Alexi Helvig. All he wanted was a shifter to use for some experiments. As Shadow has shown no ability to shift, he’ll be going. It’s all he’s good for. In exchange, he will leave our empire alone.”
Worthless. No one will ever love you.This time, I know it’s my voice saying those things, my own demon, not my dragon. He is sitting quietly in his home, seething.
I bite hard into my cheek again. The tang of blood floods my mouth.
Drago frowns, those blue eyes of his narrowing. “You sold your own son?”
I catch his gaze and hope he can see in my eyes that I am begging him to do something. His own blue eyes flare briefly. He might not know why I'm hiding my power, but I thought he would be my ally in this. I thought he feltsomethingfor me. Those eyes lock on mine for only a second longer before they shift back to my father.
“He is no longer my son,” my father says. It doesn’t matter that I hate my father, it still cuts me deep when he utters those words. And the very small part of me that was holding out hope is extinguished.
I watch my father move away, his back toward me. Drago looks at me, panic flashing over his face, followed by cold rage and back to boredom. All in the span of a moment that I would have missed, had I not been watching him. The wordpleasepushes to my tongue, but I can’t seem to beg him to save me. Can’t seem to make my mouth open.
Because I deserve this. I deserve whatever fate Alexi has in store for me. Drago knows this, and that’s why he won’t move to help me. That’s why I won’t beg for help.
I don’t even realize I have been pulling against the two vampires holding me until the fight leaves my body and I go limp, dangling between the two supernaturals. Despite the feeling of my heart breaking into a thousand pieces, I keep my eyes trained on Drago, a grounding force in this maelstrom. When another vampire moves in behind us, Drago’s eyes flare with fear and it almost sounds like he yells out my name, but then my neck is pushed roughly to the side and a glint of metal is the only warning I get before I feel the pinch of the needle entering me. Immediately, my world tunnels and my body starts to feel fuzzy. When my captors drop me back to the ground, I don’t feel it. With my last reserve of energy, I think I call for Drago, but my mouth feels wrong.
My vision swims, but I don’t miss Drago suddenly by my side, his hands black. A thud echoes to my right, and I drag my check along the ground to turn my head. I come face to face with one of the vampires that was holding me. Black veins run up and down his flesh and blood drips from his eyes and mouth. Screams echo through the cavern. No, not screams. A single scream.
Drago, yelling my name.
I force my head to turn back over, and I can see my father’s men holding tightly onto Drago as he struggles against them. He manages to drop one with that magic in his hands, but the fallen thug is quickly replaced. My eyelids blink slower. I’m losing the battle against whatever drugs they forced into me. In my last moment of consciousness, I see my father slam a needle into Drago, subduing him. And I think in that moment, my whole world falls apart.
TWO
The royal family of Hell have guarded their magic for as long as the covens have existed. They alone hold the power to open or close the gates of Hell.
As with all things, this power should be harnessed for the good of the coven.
– Mori Family Grimoire
Ava
(“Clint Eastwood” – Gorillaz)
The warm night air moves through the open window, bringing with it the scent of the jasmine flowers outside, which slowly replaces the musty, old smell of the house we are in. The soft lap of the lake can be heard just under the soft music Jackson is playing. A wood-paneled wall supports my weight as I watch my brother take a long drag off the red cigarette. He holds the hit in so long, it begs the question of how powerful his lungs are. The crimson smoke curls around his face, obscuring it. My head feels fuzzy just from standing in the smoke-filled room; asoft haze floats over my body, making me feel disconnected and soft.
Arcanna is lounging with her long legs up against the wall while she lays with her hair spread out in a halo around her head. I fidget nervously with my sweatshirt. This is the first time I’ve actually beeninvited to hang out with my brother and his friends, not just snuck myself into their gathering. The prince of Hell has always been allowed to go out, or at least, the guards and our parents look the other way. But the princess? I am supposed to appear chaste, and if my mother had her way, I would be locked up in my room until she married me off to some noble.
The door to the room opens and my brother’s boyfriend meanders in, his bare chest exposed and his sweats hung low on his hips. His black hair is pulled up in a half bun, showing the ragged scar that cuts through his eye. My brother smiles warmly at him, pushing up to stand and moving toward him. Oisin and Jax have been together for years now, both exclusively and not.
Oisin grabs the back of my brother's golden neck and pulls his mouth into a long kiss. When they pull back, Oisin exhales smoke, and a smile steals across his face. I avert my eyes when my brother bites his lip. Their desire for each other is evident. Arcanna watches them, something akin to hunger burning in those eyes before they flash back to normal. It’s not the first time I wonder if the three of them have ever shared.
“Ava!” Oisin’s rich voice pulls me from the thread of carpet I was trying to focus on to hide my embarrassment at watching Arcanna lust after those two. “Finally got to come hang out with us?” He pushes past Jax and sweeps me into his arms, his warm body pressing into me and flooding my head with his rich scent of tobacco and leather. When he finally puts me down, I watch his red eye trace over the oversized sweatshirt and bare legs.
Jackson comes up behind Oisin and swings his arm around Oisin’s shoulders, his silver eyes glazed over and blond hair disheveled. “I figured she was old enough now.” He shrugs, nipping playfully at Oisin’s neck.
