Insurrection (Monarchs of Hell Book 1) Read online

  “No, my flight itself was perfect.” I scowled, my wings fluttering against my back as if struggling for release from their glamour. “Lily was waiting for me at my usual ledge, so I got caught up in the storm in an attempt to avoid her crap.”

  “You know I can kick them out,” he offered, leaning back and giving me a pointed look. He had offered this a million times over.

  “No,” I groaned, “Her parents are decent people. I don’t want to punish them for their daughter being crappy.”

  “You must have gotten your compassion from your mother, because I would have booted their asses out already.” He looked to the side, where rain pelted the window. I scowled at the mention of my mother and my being anything like her.

  She was a hot topic of debate between us. Where my dad was still smitten with the woman who had given birth to me then ditched us, I was completely disenchanted. In fact, she was the reason I was so detached from my Succubus side.

  Once upon a time, my dad and mom had gotten together and had me. The issue? Because of my mom’s magic and natural tendencies as a Succubus, she’d decided—after already bringing me into the world—that she wasn’t suited to marriage or children because they tied her down. So, she left, and I had no idea where she was to this day. I had a feeling my father knew, but he wasn’t going to tell me. Probably because he knew I would do something rash.

  “Oh yes, so compassionate,” I rolled my eyes, “She must have used up all that compassion before she decided to ditch us and never return.”

  Call me crazy but once you decided to have a kid with someone, I felt like that made shit pretty real, right? Or maybe I was just old fashioned and wanted to be in love with someone enough that the idea of not being with them was actually painful. To be in love with someone so much that I wanted to create an entire life with them—whatever that entailed. Then again, Succubus culture had a different perspective on things than Reaper culture did, so I shouldn’t have been so surprised. It hurt nonetheless. I couldn’t help feeling like I wasn’t good enough for her to stick around.

  “Ama,” my dad warned lightly as I grumbled and closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath before deciding to shake the moody cloud hanging over me from this nonsense. I would think about her later.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked curiously.

  “Yes!” He clapped and leaned forward, offering me a persuasive smile that spelled trouble. “So, here's the thing. I have to ask a favor of you—”

  A loud knock on the door had my father rolling his eyes and muttering a curse as he stood up and walked towards it. Screaming between two voices erupted from the other room, no doubt because of a dispute, and my dad paused and drew in a breath, knowing the argument wouldn’t settle down until he demanded so.

  “We will finish this conversation later, at dinner.” He offered me a thoughtful look and then scowled, “if these dumbasses don’t cause me to die of annoyance.”

  I laughed as he slammed the door behind him, and I looked out the window, wondering if I should follow him into the throne room. Probably not, right? I knew for a fact that he didn’t want to be here any more than I did and wouldn’t expect me to follow. I think a stroll outside was in order while he wrangled the court members. At least the rain seemed to be easing up to only a light misting. Lucky me.

  Standing up, I narrowed my eyes at the door, hearing the yelling continue at increasing volumes and knowing that if I went in there I would be annoyed at not only the drama, but also at everyone’s eyes on me—including Drayven’s gaze.

  Yep. That was more than enough reason for me to turn towards a private exit from the chamber that would take me down a long, narrow hall towards the courtyard we often had lunch in. Politics be damned—I was using this time to get the heck out of here and enjoy some peace and quiet after a rough day.

  Plus, I was positive we could just talk about whatever we needed to at dinner tonight. Despite my dad being busy, dinner was something I could always count on with him. He never canceled or missed it.

  Family was something I could always count on…even if it was just me and my dad.

  Chapter Three

  Finias

  This…this was idiotic.

  Why my parents had sent me here to play social and political games was beyond me. It was as if they knew I would fail them, and hey—maybe that's exactly what they wanted. Just another excuse to punish me and satisfy their sick minds. I truly think they had convinced themselves at this point that they not only loved me but were exceptional parents. The wounds that were blissfully covered by my tattoos said otherwise.

  Resting my elbows against my bent knees as I sat on the edge of the black stone fountain in the middle of the courtyard, I considered leaving. I heaved a sigh as I ran my hands through the longer white locks of hair on top, pulling on them in frustration. Faking manners and kissing royal asses was definitely not my strong suit. Never has been and never will be.

  Ask me to gut a man in fifteen seconds without him seeing my face? I was your man.

  "Fuck me, this is going to be terrible," I groaned out loud and tried to clear my mind by focusing on the natural space around me. I found that the sound of the water pouring from the centerpiece soothed my trembling hands as I attempted to ground myself in the present and not memories from the past.

  As the Summit neared, it was as if it stirred up my parents' already vile tendencies with the need to come out on top in the Supreme position. I, for one, had no desire to be a weapon in their bloodthirsty plans, but there was nowhere else for me to go, and they ruled our house and territory with an iron fist. They had shaped me into the assassin they wanted over the years, and I hated to admit it, but I was damn good at it.

  Not for the first time, I found myself wishing I could leave it all behind and just explore the rest of the world. There had to be more to life than cruelty. Right? There had to be some form of love out there that didn’t include so much pain. It was a foreign concept to me, as I'd never experienced such a feeling, but it was something I wanted with every fiber of my being.

  To be wanted.

  To be safe.

  To be loved.

  A light misting of rain continued to fall from the sky, and I tilted my head back up as I placed my hands on the stone beneath me. Being a dark elf made me attuned with the natural elements and most at ease when I was outside surrounded by them. Being cooped up in a building for too long made my skin crawl and my feet itch to touch the soil outside, which was why I was out here putting off going into that gothic monstrosity of a castle.

  Closing my eyes, I basked in the glow of the moon and the feeling of the water on my skin. My tense muscles finally relaxed as I breathed in the energy around me, but that relaxation was quickly interrupted by someone mumbling to themselves as they approached the courtyard from the path that led into the castle.

  "Hitting her with my wing was not as satisfying as the punch I had imagined in my head. I need a do-over."

  What a bloodthirsty little creature. I couldn't tell if she was someone I should run towards and make friends with, or away from in case she decided to test that punch out on my face. I quite liked my face as it was, so I wasn’t fond of the idea of her messing it up.

  I knew I was handsome, with unique purple eyes that contrasted with the white of my hair and high cheekbones that complemented a strong jawline. Those weren’t even my best features, according to the women who gossiped; whispers of my pierced cock—which a servant woman had accidentally seen while I was changing in my private quarters—reached their ears.

  Additionally, I was marked with more rune tattoos—which were how we tracked power levels in our house—than any other of my house, and it tended to attract the women who thought they wanted a man that was a bit rougher around the edges. More dangerous. A reputation that was pretty easy to maintain, considering I was the most lethal killer from Tenebris.

  Nimbly, I jumped to my feet and slinked into the shadows amidst the pillars lini
ng the courtyard. Running a finger along the inside of my forearm, I activated the rune within my tattoo there with its Latin incantation, "Pugione."

  The dagger embedded in my skin pulsated with a violet energy that matched my eyes as the cold metal of the hilt formed in my palm. Closing my hand around it tightly, I peeked around the edge of the pillar to take in the seemingly violent beauty emerging from the dark pathway and into the moonlight.

  Little was definitely a proper term to describe her. She had to be nearly a foot shorter than me, and that was with the boots she had on adding to her height. But there were also a lot of other words I would use to describe her…

  Beautiful.

  Sensual.

  Breathtaking.

  She continued to mutter to herself, but more quietly, so I couldn't discern her words as she approached the fountain and sat in the exact spot I had just been in moments before.

  Who was she? She didn't look like a Reaper, her features being quite the opposite of what their kind were known to look like. Whereas they are tall, lithe, pale, and had silver hair, she was short, curvy, tan, and had long black hair streaked with red that shone beneath the moonlight.

  Her head tilted from side to side, as if she were cracking her neck, then she rolled her shoulders back before leathery black wings appeared on her back. While her seductive appearance and wings made me think she could be a Succubus, I had never seen one with black wings before.

  What a conundrum my little creature was.

  Something tugged at my chest, as if a rope was tied between us and I was being pulled closer without her even lifting a finger. An insatiable need to know everything about this woman blossomed within me.

  I whispered the incantation that allowed all of my weapons to return to their rune tattoo until I called for them again, "Auferetur".

  She didn't appear to be a threat for now, and I didn't want to scare her by appearing from the shadows with a glowing dagger in my hand. That definitely wasn't the way to approach the first woman for whom I had genuinely felt a spark of interest that ran deeper than appearances.

  A part of me wanted to hold her in my arms and pry her soul open. I wanted to learn her darkest secrets and her every desire and whisper my own back to her.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? Was she extending her Succubus influence over me without me knowing it? That had to be it, but just in case it wasn't…

  I whistled a light tune as I came around the side of the column, wanting to purposefully alert her to my presence so as to not startle her. Her head whipped toward me, her hair flowing around her with the sharp movement, and in the blink of an eye she was suddenly standing with the most badass scythe I'd ever seen. Crimson streaked around the sharp blade and her hands as she narrowed her gaze on me.

  "Who are you?"

  So, she was a Reaper. My little creature was becoming more interesting with every passing second.

  Her voice was slightly raspy but still feminine, and it shot a spark of desire straight to my cock, which twitched in my black skinny jeans.

  While her stance and weapon showed that she wasn't afraid to fight me, her eyes held curiosity in them, and not malice. She would attack me if provoked, but it seemed more like she was intrigued by me, and that was something I could work with.

  I pounced on that glimmer in her eyes and held my hands out to show I was not a threat. Laughing softly, the corner of my mouth tilted up in a smirk as I answered, "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Finias."

  Her gaze traveled the length of my body as she summed my answer—and me—up. Her eyes lingered on each tattoo she could see that wasn't covered by my black tank top, jeans and Converse. What she couldn't see was that the only expanse of my skin that wasn't tattooed with runes was my face.

  Everywhere below it was marked, and I did mean everywhere.

  I must have passed whatever visual assessment she was giving me, as her scythe disappeared and a slender brow raised as she asked, "And why are you outside the House of Death lurking like a creep?"

  Was that a hint of a smile I saw on her face? I'd roll with it.

  "I'm actually just here to take back my seat you so rudely uprooted me from with your psycho ramblings," I offered, pointing at the spot on the fountain's edge.

  Her mouth dropped open slightly as I took a seat and asked, "My butt warmed this spot up for you before you sat here, so we're friends already, right? Friends share butt warmth."

  The confusion on her beautiful face made me belt out a laugh and clutch my stomach. As I continued to chuckle, the confusion on her face slowly faded, and she eventually joined me in laughter.

  Eventually, our laughter died down, and I glanced at her in my periphery. She was staring at me as the moon lit up her large eyes and she nibbled her bottom lip gently, as if she wanted to ask me a question but was nervous.

  I swiveled my head towards her, and she immediately glanced away as if she hadn't been openly staring at me. She was adorable. And what the fuck? I had never considered a woman adorable before. She really was though.

  I figured I'd toss her a bone and hopefully it would help her open up to me in return. "To answer your earlier question about why I'm out here lurking like a creep..." I trailed off and waggled my brows at her like a weirdo causing her to giggle. The sound made me smile, and I became so wrapped up in it I almost forgot where I was going with this conversation. I found that I liked being the one to make her laugh.

  Clearing my throat, I continued, "I'm the prince of the House of Runes, and my parents sent me here to get to know the other royals better before the Summit." Groaning, I rolled my eyes and added, "So, pretty much the absolute last thing I'd like to be doing right now."

  She huffed out a single breath and tacked on, "Yeah, royals...what a bunch of assholes, am I right?"

  My eyebrows raised as I grimaced and nodded my agreement, but then something appeared around her curled horns that made me blink a few hundred times to try to figure out what I was seeing.

  Was that a crown?

  "Takes one to know one." She winked at me and pointed to her crown, "I'm the princess of the House of Death."

  Fuck my life. I had just insulted her without knowing it. I was such an idiot.

  I turned my head back straight and dropped my face into my palms while grunting, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you...I just meant that all my previous experiences with royals were shit and I'm really not the best people-person, as you can tell."

  A soft warmth landed on my shoulder, causing me to turn my head back towards her. Laughter danced in her eyes as she smiled at me kindly. "It's okay. I dislike all of them besides my dad as well. They really are assholes. I'm Amare by the way, or Ama for short, if you prefer."

  For some reason, just the single touch of her soft hand on my skin made fire spread through my veins, and an overwhelming desire to pull her into my lap invaded my brain.

  As my brain short-circuited for a moment, I was briefly unaware of my surroundings, so the deep voice that barked out her name startled me.

  "Ama."

  Fuck. She had quickly consumed all my thoughts, causing me to be caught off guard for the first time in as long as I could remember. That could be a fatal mistake, and I couldn't afford for that to happen again. Especially if it meant keeping her safe. Shit. When did that become a priority? No matter, there was no denying it, Ama’s safety was extremely important to me, and I was suddenly thanking my parents that I had the skill set I’d honed over years due to their guidance.

  No one was safe from me…so I was the perfect person to keep her safe.

  I didn't like the tone of voice this newcomer took with her though, and I reflexively got to my feet and positioned myself in front of her as I took in the large Reaper before me. He was maybe two inches taller than me and a brute, if I had to describe him. He was definitely not missing any meals or gym sessions.

  His black eyes flared with a ring of neon green around them as his own scythe appeared in his hands. The same col
or flared around his blade as Ama's had, but it didn't extend to his hands. "Who the hell are you? Get away from her."

  Something in me unfurled at him speaking to me in a way that suggested I could ever harm a hair on her head. Touching the top of my right hand, which was covered in a black flame tattoo, I muttered, "Ignis."

  When I turned my hands over, twin purple flames roared up from my palms, and I narrowed my eyes at the Reaper. "I think it’s you and your disrespectful tone, as if she's a dog to command, who should leave her alone."

  I might not have known Ama for more than a few minutes, but I already knew that I wouldn't hesitate to use the skills my parents had beaten into me to protect her.

  She was now my little creature. Whether she knew it or not.

  Chapter Four

  Ama

  Holy shiznit. Was Finias seriously standing up for me against Drayven? After like five minutes of knowing me and after I’d called him a creeper?

  All I could do was sit there in shock while tensions rose between the two men, who were now silent and simmering in rage. It was enough to pull me out of my frozen state.

  Oh no, this was about to get messy. Time to intervene.

  While it was nice to have someone defend my honor, especially someone as delectable as Finias was, I would never be a damsel in distress. I could take care of this on my own.

  "Now, now, boys," I tutted as I rose from my seat on the fountain and ran my hand down the dark elf's arm. Moving to stand in front of him, I arched a brow at Drayven and pursed my lips. "The next time you need to speak to me, do so with manners, or else I’ll have no qualms with ignoring you for the rest of my life. Sound good?"

  Already sort of was, frankly. But I would truly start ignoring anything he said to me—even at political meetings—if he couldn’t treat me with respect. I wasn’t that sixteen-year-old girl who didn’t have a backbone anymore.