Page 34 of Crown of Steel

We still use the Atrium for thosesoirées.

“What is that?” His voice is filled with fascination, sprinkled with a layer of…dismay? The thought makes my heart rate speed up. I have been discovering more and more sides to my little stepbrother, each and every one of them fascinating. But the part where he’s afraid? Yeah, that definitely makes my blood heat up.

“This is where the brothers celebrate,” I answer. He jerks himself free of my hold, his shoulders almost touching his ears and his eyes wide and clear as he stabs a finger into my cashmere chest. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

I chuckle at his word choice. “Trust me, you’d know it when I was fucking you.” Not taking the bait, Régis flips me off with an undignified huff, and continues to search around him.

“I’m not some naive college kid, you know? I know when I’m being pranked.”

Now it’s my turn to feel indignant. “I’m not some low-level asshole who’d go all the way into a rainy forest in the fucking darkness, just to mess with you.”

His gaze lands on mine. “No, you are so much more, aren’t you? Daddy’s precious son, his future heir.” He clears his throat, and my gaze drops to where his Adam’s apple bobs delicately. I want to bite him there, taste that delicious wet skin of his. “So why did you bring me here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” I step right next to him. Looking at the glass building with its fine lines of silver curves and exotic greenery, I try to imagine what it's like to see this for the first time. Even in its current, sombre state, the shapes appear regal, even somewhat dramatic. “Come.”

To his credit, Régis hesitates only briefly before he allows me to grab his hand and guide him closer. “This trail is known for its treacherous little stones, and I don’t want you to end up spraining your ankle in the pitch-dark forest.”

Around us, the narrow path adorned with oak trees melts into an opening where the shimmering light of the moon finds us once more. Slowly we walk toward the Atrium, Régis’s smaller hand feeling strangely cool and fragile in my palm, the physical connection making my heart gallop inside my chest. I set it aside immediately, nodding my chin instead toward the building.

“This is the heart of the brotherhood, Régis, the Atrium. It’s for celebrations.” We get closer to the glass building with its symmetrical shapes.When soft music mingles with the chatter and moans, slaps and hisses, cackles, light as a feather, floating through the heady air.

“I told you that the invitation you received was meant to be accepted. If you had, this is where you would have come. To meet the others.” I don’t bother telling him how he would have met them. Some things are better to be experienced than to be described. Like gatherings. Because people change when they operate in a group, fascinatingly so. It’s cruel to see how they can play with others, show off their supremacy as they reign, together, while others are kept in captivity.

If people are depraved, rich people are the devil. Because we take what we want—and trust me, that’s a lot—while we ruthlessly cut down those who stand in our way.

Régis knows this. Knows what it’s like to be lifted and repositioned as if it’s nothing, while the soil under his feet is falling away. Although in his case, I wonder what was hidden under that soil to begin with.

Right now, his golden wavy hair glimmers in the dark, and some stupid part of me is glad that he didn’t put the hoodie of the raincoat over his head. I like his curls, how sweet andinnocent they make him look, how they beautifully frame his face.Mon chaton.

My brothers already know that he’s been claimed by me, I’ve made that very clear during our last initiation, despite him not being there. A mistake on my end, since I didn’t think I’d have to make sure he’d come downstairs and into the dungeon, where our first initiations are always held. A mistake I won’t be making again.

But Louis is right. There’s something in the air, as fluttery as it can be threatening, and it’s making our brothers restless. They are waiting for a moment of weakness, and if I don’t pay attention, they will strike, like the group of hyenas they are. They will seize the opportunity to nuzzle through our defenses and use their canines to tear them apart. They will come for him because he is fresh meat. Because he is not used to our ways of life, and because the Elder will let them.

My little stepbrother will be present during the next Initiation, I’ll make sure of that. For his own fucking safety.

Régis shivers next to me. “And how…” He clears his throat, but doesn’t finish his phrase. Because he’s afraid, or because he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Come, let me show you.” Despite the gentle rainfall, we slowly cross the path that lies all around the building, careful not to slip and fall into the wet, rough and prickly shrubs.

“I can't believe I haven't seen this building before,” Régis grunts softly when we finally stand in front of the darkened building, sounding displeased, his hand still in mine despite the now flat surface.

We reach the door, that’s equally made of glass and silver. Reluctantly, I let go of his hand and try the handle, inhaling a quick breath of air in relief when I find it locked. Which means it will be just me and him. This place isn't open to the public, unless they have been invited, but Dad gave me an extra set of keys so I always have access, should it be necessary.

The door falls wide open, revealing the beautifully decorated open space, an elegant invitation to come forward and drift toward the heart of its foundations—the Great Hall, as we call it. We amble forward over tiles carved into a mosaic pattern. They are colorful, I know, but right now, it’s too dark to catch their vibrant yellow and moss greens.

Behind me, Régis lets out a gasp, and I turn around. He has found the plants, of course he has. In the entrance alone, tens and tens of plants have been placed against the glassed walls, their branches curled into one and other as they form a green strip.

“Is that a—” he mutters, his crystal blue eyes filled with a softness I have never seen on him before. They make him look so young, so passionate… so fragile. “It’s a Monstera Deliciosa Aurea,” he mumbles into the silence. “This plant is so rare, I’ve never seen one before. They have a fantastic collection in this school.” His fingers brush the lime, full-moon shaped leaves, gently and caring as if it were a lover.

It makes me annoyed as hell. “Can we stop the plant fucking and focus instead?” I grunt, perhaps a little too harshly, but fuck that. At least he immediately drops the branch, and as it bounces back, the leaf gently brushes his cheek. His chiseled, but soft, wet and flushed cheek. My hands itch to touch him again.

Turning back ahead, I snort, “Jeez, Dad really should have prepared you.” At least that part’s true—he could have told Régis at leastsomethingof what was waiting for him, instead of leaving him as food for the predators.

“I’m stronger than you think,” Régis bristles as he catches up. “Why don’t you tell me something about this place instead of walking around like your usual arrogant self?”

“Hmm.” I flick on the faint light, then march toward the Great Hall, gesturing to him to follow me as I step across the threshold and into the heart of the glass building, further andfurther, until I reach the round stage. High and proud, obscene in its promise to fulfil many things. Régis follows, until he stands right by me at the foot of the set. “The Atrium used to be the center of a house’s social and political life. Back in Ancient Rome, this is where the male head-of-household would receive his clients on business days.” I turn to watch Régis glaring at me.

“And why are you telling me this? Is this part of your non-existent prank? I already know that. I know a lot of things.”

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