I watched our blood mix together and drip into the bowl.

  “You can work out the rest,” he said to his friends, passing the knife to Charon.

  Looking over at me, he walked around the table, still holding my hand over the top of it. Mel was forced to step out of the way as I moved closer to him. Once I was by his side, he paid none of them any attention.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he guided me away from the table and down another hall, this one lined with solid black doors.

  “It’s the equivalent of our wedding night, Puppet. I’m going to make you mine in every way that I can.”

  We entered the third door on the right. From the scent alone I would know we were in his bedroom. The notes of his cologne were stronger in here.

  I took in the massive California king with a black and red bedding set. The large marble bed had two matching dressers and an ottoman situated around the room. A plush leather recliner was angled towards the bed a few feet away.

  There weren’t any pictures on the walls, but one of Ciaran with his family sat on a nightstand in front of a lamp giving the space a soft glow. Two additional doors were on either side of the room.

  I assumed one was a closet and the other a bathroom. I turned towards him trying not to think of why he’d bring me in here and saw he’d been watching me the whole time. I made a show of looking around the room again.

  “I feel like we just did something demonic.”

  “We did make an oath that pays respects to the one we worship down below.”

  “How poetic.”

  He laughed lightly. “You don’t need to be nervous. I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

  That did not help. I swung my gaze towards his and my pulse spiked. The ache between my legs grew in response to the way he was looking at me.

  I forced myself to focus on something else. I glimpsed down and his solid print caught my attention first, followed by a small puddle of crimson.

  “We’re getting blood all over the floor.”

  He wound our fingers together and wordlessly pulled me closer, locking our bloodied hands together behind my back as he brought my body flush against his.

  “We’re about to get a lot bloodier than this, Puppet.”

  “Ciaran…” I trailed off, unsure what I was trying to say.

  He cupped my jaw with his other hand and tilted my head back, silencing any objections with his lips and tongue. It began somewhat gentle but neither of us wanted soft or tender. He nipped me, eliciting a low whimper, soothing the sting with the tip of his tongue. Dropping his hand to my throat, he collared me and began to move forward, forcing my body to go backward.

  He didn’t break our kiss until the back of my knees met with his mattress. He pulled our bloodied hands apart and pushed me down onto the bed.

  My back sank into silk and plush bedding as soft as a cloud. It smelled of him, heightening my perception of what we were doing. I stared up at him acutely aware that my lips were probably puffy, and my face was flushed. My dress had risen to a beyond decent level, revealing the black G-string I’d worn beneath it.

  “You look like you belong here,” he murmured, running his bloody palm up my leg. I shuddered as he got closer to my apex, forcing myself to remain still.

  Music began to play throughout the apartment, giving us another layer of privacy. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  My breath hitched as his hand reached where the fabric of my G-string covered me and pulled it aside.

  His gaze dipped between my legs seeing my undeniable arousal. I’d never been gladder I kept myself trimmed.

  “Your pussy is just as pretty as you, Puppet.”

  My face heated in response. He stepped back, removing his shirt before making quick work of his jeans. My mouth dried as I drank in the perfection that was his body. I never knew he had so many tattoos.

  I took in his abs that I wanted to trace with my tongue, halting on the outline I couldn’t miss. Ciaran shoved down his boxers and my stomach flipped with a fluttering sensation. His dick was huge and thick. A vein ran from the tip to the base surrounded by a patch of dark curls.

  “Take your dress off,” he commanded softly.

  I bit my lip and slowly complied. Sitting up, I bunched the tight material in both hands and lifted it over my head.

  I reached back and unhooked my bralette next, leaving me in nothing but the G-string. I was comfortable in my skin and didn’t attempt to hide from his hungry stare. His eyes took in every inch of me, feeling like a heated caress.

  His low groan of appreciation coupled with the look on his face had me growing hotter. I pressed my legs together in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing sensation.

  “You are too fucking beautiful for words.”

  The compliment brought a smile to my face. He laughed lowly and climbed back onto the bed. Gripping both my knees, he pushed them apart and settled his solid body between my legs. He kissed my lips and my jaw and then began kissing my neck.

  I sighed contentedly and placed both my hands on his shoulders, allowing them to roam freely across his soft skin.

  The bleeding hadn’t entirely stopped yet on my palm and left trails of blood on him, but he didn’t seem to care. He continued to kiss his way down my body.

  He hooked two fingers in my G-string and nearly tore it off. I watched him move lower and place a kiss on my hood, spreading the lips of my pussy, sliding his tongue right down the center.

  I jolted in response, releasing a soft moan. His bloodied palm flattened against my clit as he began licking me softly, barely making contact. I squirmed in frustration causing him to laugh. I reached down and slid my hands into his hair, letting the soft strands glide through my fingers as I pulled his face deeper between my legs.

  He put his tongue all the way inside me and worked it up and down.

  I moaned loudly, letting my head fall back on the bed.

  His palm began to rotate, working my clit in a circular motion as he alternated between eating my pussy and teasing the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue.

  I knew his blood was mixing with my arousal and the visual pushed me closer to the edge. Ciaran slipped a hand up my body and flattened it against my navel to keep me still. His mouth closed over my clit, and he softly began to suck. I came within seconds, crying out and cursing at the ceiling.

  When he began to move back up, I cupped his face in my hands for the first time and marveled at how perfect it was as I guided his mouth back to mine. The taste of me and him combined had another moan trapped between our lips.

  He indulged me, deepening the kiss as he reached for the drawer of the nightstand. My stomach flipped again when I heard the crinkle of a wrapper.

  He rolled the condom on and then took hold of my legs, placing them over his shoulders. He stared down at me and pressed forward, easing the head of his cock inside me.

  I sucked in a breath and before I could release it, he thrust and buried himself fully, breaking the small barrier of innocence I never cared for. I cried out from surprise and shock, pleasure and pain mixing together as my body worked to accommodate the size of him. There was an overwhelming fullness and pleasurable burn as he stretched me.

  “You, okay?” he questioned, his husky voice strained.

  “Keep going,” I implored, wrapping my hands around his biceps.

  He pulled out and thrust back in, repeating the motion twice before he started to fuck me in earnest.

  His thrusts were hard and measured, stroking deep inside my pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin and my uninhibited moans began to echo around the room. His headboard rocked into the wall, creating a rapid rhythmic soundtrack.

  “Damn, you feel good,” he ground out, fucking me harder. His fingers knotted in my hair, gripping it tightly near the scalp. My pussy clenched from the bite of pain. I blinked to clear the water from my eyes.

  He came down on top of me, letting my legs slide from his shoulders to his forearms, his thick cock going impossibly deeper as he fucked me harder. I clawed at his back and cried out his name. He nipped my ear and licked around its shell. “Keep screaming my name, Puppet. Scream it until you never forget who you belong to.”

  His hand wrapped around my throat and began to steadily apply pressure as he continued thrusting.

  Another climax began to build, coming much faster than the first had. When it hit, my vision blurred as sparks of pleasure rushed through my veins. I came so loud I knew everyone in the entire apartment heard us.

  I was still coming when Ciaran cursed under his breath and buried himself to the hilt, finding his own release. He kissed my forehead before resting his head on top of mine. I realized only one of us was breathing as if they’d run a marathon and it wasn’t the person who’d done all the work.

  I laid beneath him trying to get my thoughts in order, unsure of what I was supposed to do next. Ciaran didn’t strike me as the cuddling type and that certainly wasn’t lovemaking. It was plain and simple fucking. It was amazing—he knew exactly what to do to me and how.

  It almost seemed like he’d studied me enough that he had it down to a science.

  That or we were in sync. While both of those thoughts were somewhat disconcerting they didn’t upset me.

  I slightly lifted my head and placed a quick peck on his lips. He closed his eyes and released a soft sigh. Still unsure what to do now I reached up and began to pat his back. I didn’t know if his sigh meant he was angry at himself, regretful, or deep in thought.

  His shoulders started to shake, and I froze for a second before I realized he was laughing.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I…I don’t know. Offering comfort?” I replied questioningly, beginning to laugh at my idiocy.

  He pulled out and rolled onto his back, dragging me into his arms.

  When I opened my eyes, I blinked a few times so that they adjusted to the lack of light. I sat up slowly, holding one hand to my brow and the other to the blanket.

  My body ached similar to the way it had after that fateful evening of June sixteenth, but for a much more pleasurable reason. I reached for my phone and then remembered Maverick had taken it. I didn’t know what time it was. Ciaran had finally let me tap out after round three, but it didn’t feel like I’d slept more than twenty minutes.

  I looked over at the beautifully enigmatic man beside me. The blanket covered his lower half, but now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see the cuts and definition of his upper body.

  In clothes he was gorgeous, out of them he was like a completely different specimen. I couldn’t compare him to anyone else. Not even a celebrity came to mind.

  I rolled my lips together to smother a groan and pulled my knees up, resting my arms on them as I stared across the room, shivering from the chill in the air.

  I couldn’t believe I was here in this bed with an oath marking my flesh. No one would understand how significant this was unless they lived the lives we did. The reasoning for it, however, was deeply upsetting. Ciaran had said it best earlier.

  I came from a world of dark secrets, yet I had never realized so many were being kept from me.

  Until now.

  I felt like my entire life was a fucking joke. My heart hurt when I thought of my siblings and Abuelo. Were we not close enough for them to warn me?

  There was a heaviness in my chest that made me want to dig inside myself and remove the things that made me feel too much.

  My parents…I hated them, but a part of me still loved them too. I hated that more.

  I didn’t know if they were selfish and cruel or if I was too weak for allowing anyone into the small space that I reserved for those I loved.

  My eyes burned with unshed tears I quickly extinguished with the heel of my hands. I wouldn’t sit around crying or torturing myself with self-pity. That would be beneficial for no one.

  A feather-light touch pulled me from my thoughts as Ciaran ran his fingers down my spine. I looked over at him thankful we were in the dark. He wouldn’t have seen my disconcertion.

  “It’s always hard to accept,” he mused quietly. His hand fell away as he moved into a sitting position, bracing his back against the remaining pillows that lined the headboard. We’d knocked the rest onto his bedroom floor.

  “What’s hard?” I asked softly.

  “Everything that comes with being an heir to families like ours. We’re born to slaughter and accumulate power.”

  I slightly puckered my lips, turning that over in my head. I’d only known about the latter part. Power begot power, or whatever my father liked to say. He left out a few important pieces of information during that speech.

  Ciaran remained quiet for a minute as if considering his next words. “The game is designed to strip away your humanity. For those watching it’s a source of entertainment. The same concept doesn’t apply to those who are forced into it.

  “You weren’t supposed to be in that category. Neither was my brother for entirely different reasons. He should have never gotten involved in this part of our world at all.”

  I slid back on the bed and positioned myself beside him, tucking the blanket beneath my arms. “Was it hard for you to accept?”

  “I was raised to embrace the darkest parts of myself and our society,” he laughed lightly and added, “I enjoy it too much.”

  I grinned with a breathy laugh. “Hm, why am I not surprised?”

  “It can get tedious. I’ve been doing it for so long that there’s hardly any excitement anymore.”

  “So, you’re into murder and politics. Our missing siblings aside, this conversation probably should have happened before I wound up in your bed.”

  “You were going to end up in my bed because I wanted you here and I do whatever is necessary to get what I want.”

  I blew out a scoff.

  “You don’t think so?” he questioned with genial curiosity.

  “Ciaran, honestly? No. I think it would have been unacted upon desire we’d be forced to bury when our parents told us who we had to marry.”

  His brisk laugh had a scowl furrowing my brow.

  “My parents didn’t dictate who I would be with. I expected them too, was prepared for it. And then I met you. Yours like to think they can control that decision still, but I never would’ve let that happen.”

  Denial came quick and steadfast. He was making it sound as if me being his was never a question, but a guarantee. I recalled his words at the party, that it was inevitable.

  I hadn’t jumped ahead of myself and started planning a future with him. He reached over and took the hand with the lines of our oath into his. “It worked out that you wanted me too. Otherwise, I would’ve had to make you eventually feel the same after I took what was mine.”

  My brows rose and my head swiveled in his direction. His sinister omissions were always worded as factual. He wouldn’t settle for less even if what he wanted wasn’t meant to be his. I didn’t entirely dislike this side of him. It gave me an odd sense of belonging.

  He brought my palm to his mouth and kissed it gently. “You feel a little better now?”

  “Do I…? What do you mean?”

  “You’re hurting.”

  Understanding donned and I instinctively looked away. It wasn’t possible he’d seen my face when he woke up.

  The room was too dark. I hadn’t even been facing his direction. It threw me off-kilter having him in tune with my emotions. He knew me in a way that would allude we’d been close for far longer than this.

  “Don’t do that,” he admonished and pulled me across the bed until my side was pressed against his.

  “Don’t hide ever hide from me. I would never judge you.”

  The ire and sincerity in his tone threatened the barrier I’d erected to keep myself protected. I wasn’t used to this kind of unwavering devotion from anyone other than my sisters. A few weeks ago, my abuelo. I wasn’t sure why he seemed to care so much.

  For me, this all came about because of our shared interest in saving our siblings and dismantling the helm of the Serpines. Ciaran was making it abundantly clear he’d had me on his agenda before this situation arose.

  I wouldn’t deny I enjoyed what we’d done. I would never regret him being my first or doing the oath given the reasons behind it. Being next to him wasn’t all bad either. It gave me a sense of comfortability I’d never had in this capacity.

  When he talked to me during our intermissions I listened to every word.

  We really were a lot alike.

  All of this was a major problem.

  I liked him more than I should’ve. I had no idea what the future held, but one thing was for certain. Ciaran and I were a tragedy waiting to happen. It would all be because of me. I was the tragic one. He had no flaws. He was perfectly twisted.

  I was still trying to find my way down the path I thought I’d begun to pave. This major deviation shined a light down on it and showed I hadn’t really gotten anywhere. I wasn’t going to give up, but he was lightyears ahead of me.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “Will you not do that again?” I tried to pull away from him and his grip immediately tightened around my hand.

  “Stop letting you be alone? No. I suggest you get the fuck over it. You’re stuck with me until death and every lifetime after.”

  My jaw slackened. I slowly shook my head back and forth. “Ciaran, we can’t have a secret…thing for the rest of our lives. You said you’d help me and somehow, I’m an asset to you. That’s it.”

  “That’s it?” he repeated back with an edge in his tone. “I’m not sure what kind of bullshit is going on inside that beautiful head, but this isn’t a thing. Do you honestly think I needed an oath of this magnitude to help you?”

  “No, but you’d need leverage for me to agree to it,” I argued.

  “If I wanted leverage, I can think of a million different ways to get it.”

  All of this was ringing true. He hadn’t needed the oath to help me, but I’d misunderstood something in the translation and believed it was, in fact, for leverage until one second ago.

  “Are you hellbent on repeating history that’s still playing out in a very bad way?”