CLAIMED BY SHADOWS

THE SHADOWMEN

ROSA LEE

BLURB

When the Shadows set you free…will you let them claim you?

My worst nightmare has come true. Sergi Petrov, the man my father sold me to, has me in his grip again. This time, even my Shadows aren’t strong enough to fight his obsession.

I endure every night in his mansion—twenty-one days of his attention, his delusion—submitting so my men, my soulmates, can live free. I will suffer anything to ensure their safety.

Every night, my will to survive is tested, with only Nikolai, Sergi’s own son, helping me resist the darkness his father creates inside me.

My Shadows refuse to give up, using all of their underworld resources to help bring me home.

But will it be enough to finally break the hold Sergi has on me?

Or am I already bound to him in a way neither of us saw coming, a part of his darkness growing inside me, inescapable and inevitable?

And can my men accept me now that I have been so tainted?

Claimed by Shadows is book 2 in a dark romance trilogy where our leading lady won’t have to choose, but she will have to go through hell before she gets her HEA. You will need to read Kissed by Shadows before reading Claimed by Shadows. 

To all the thirsty bitches that need their soul sucked out of their vaginas and spat back into their mouths…

Open up for Daddy…good fucking girl…

Life’s but a walking shadow

— WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

PLAYLIST

I love books with playlists and I listen to my compiled playlist as I’m writing. I’ve even based some scenes solely around one track, listening to it on repeat to really get into the vibe.

Listen to the full playlist on SpotifyHERE

“Can I Exist” by MISSIO

“Arcade - Acoustic Version” by Duncan Laurence

“I Miss You” by Løv Li

“Slip Away” by UNSECRET, Ruelle

“pain’s my only home” by Zevia

“Unworthy Of Love” by Chapters, Bolshiee

“Eye of the Storm” by Ivy & Gold

“Bitter Heart” by Mimi, Staffan, Carlén

“Iris” by Tommee Profitt, Ruelle

“Get You The Moon (featuring Snøw)” by Kina, Snøw

“Not About Angels” by Birdy

“comatose” by sød ven

“Dangerous Game” by Clergy, BEGINNERS

“I Don’t Wanna Live Forever” by ZAYN, Taylor Swift

“Masquerade” by Euphoria, Bolshiee

“Through The Fire” by Euphoria, Bolshiee

“Bruises” by Lewis Capaldi

“In the Shadows” by Amy Stroup

“Hurts Like Hell” by Fleurie, Tommee Profitt

“This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush

“Everything” by Vide

“we’ll be fine” by Luz

“Gone” by Blake Rose

“Elastic Heart - Piano Version” by Sia

“Bad decisions” by BOBI ANDONOV

“Let It All Go” by RHODES, Birdy

“Brave” by Riley Pearce

“Ultraviolet” by Freya Ridings

“Constellations - Piano Version” by jade LeMac

“Fahrenheit” by Azee

“One Of The Girls” by The Weekend, JENNIE, Lily rose Depp

“Centuries” by Fall Out Boy

“Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots

“Not Afraid Anymore” by Halsey

“Elephant In The Room” by Rowan Drake

“Fearless” by Tommee Profitt, Sam Tinnesz, Beacon Light

“Artistry” by Jacob Lee

“One Way Or Another” by Until The Ribbon Breaks

“Wicked Game” by Lusaint

“Skyscraper” by Tommee Profitt, Grace Grundy

“Home” by mgk, X Ambassadors, Bebe Rexha

“Born To Die” by Euphoria, Bolshiee

“Control” by Zoe Wees

“Island” by SVRCINA

“ALL I WANTED WAS U” by Ex Habit, Omido

“Some Kind Of Drug” by G-Ezay, Marc E. Bassy

“I’m with you” by Vance Joy

“Astronomical” by SVRCINA

“Innocence” by Nathan Wagner

“Puccini: One Fine Day (Un Bel Di) (from Madame Butterfly)” by Giacomo Puccini, Katherine Jenkins, The Prague Symphony Orchestra, Anthony Ingliss

“ceilings” by Lizzy McAlphine

“Like I’m Gonna Lose You” by Jasmine Thompson

FOREWORD

Dear Reader,

Firstly, thank you so much for choosing to read Claimed by Shadows. I hope you enjoy it and that it satisfies all of your dark needs!

I’ve had the Shadows in my mind since writing Released, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally be able to share their story after all this time. Nikolai was a welcome surprise and addition. Who doesn’t love a mafia prince?

As mentioned in the blurb, Claimed by Shadows is a dark romance. There are many subjects explored some readers may find disturbing.

For a full list of triggers please visit www.rosaleeauthor.com/trigger-warnings

Also a small word of caution. My books have a lot of BDSM vibes in them, and if they inspire you to dive into that kinky world, please do your research and educate yourself before trying out anything new for the first time. Take care my little smut bunnies!

CHAPTER ONE

“CAN I EXIST” BY MISSIO

ROWAN

Iwatch him across the street, the tattoos on his knuckles telling me he’s one of them, one of the ones who stole my Little Lamb and refuses to give her back. He’s laughing as he speaks into his phone, unaware that death is watching.

My hand wraps around the syringe in my pocket, something I’ve taken to carrying around with me because these Bratva are like fucking cockroaches. You squash one and another pops up. That’s okay though, because I thrive at extermination.

My heart beats faster when he hangs up, and I scoff when he doesn’t even look around before he walks down the road towards the park. These Russians are arrogant, but it works in my favour. I follow, stalking several feet away as he enters the gates, still completely unaware that death follows in his wake. It’ll make it so sweet when he finds out, but by then it’ll be too late.

I don’t know his name or what he does for Sergi, and I don’t give a shit. He’s part of the problem, and just like the ones who have come before him in the past several weeks, he will soon sing a song of pain and suffering.

My teeth grind at the knowledge that the agony I’ve caused those others is probably nothing compared to what my Lamb is going through. We’ve heard fucking nothing, not seen her for three weeks, and each day I descend more into the darkness that promises oblivion from the hurt that having her taken from us caused. At not being able to stop them.

Before I realise it, I’m right behind him, the needle jabbed into the side of his neck with so much force that it breaks off as he slumps, the sedative taking immediate effect. The pre-dawn means there’s no one around at this late hour, which is lucky for me because this loss of time keeps happening. I’ll be in one place, and then suddenly I’m in another, often covered in blood.

Grunting, I dip down and throw him over my shoulder, heading back to the car I drove when I’d identified my mark. I’ve been following him for a few days, waiting for my chance, and anticipation makes my blood hum in my veins as I shove him into the boot. His head cracks against the side, and my head tilts as I watch the blood seep from the cut, turning his blond hair ruby red. Beautiful.

My pocket vibrates, breaking the spell I’m under, and I slam the boot shut as I pull my phone out, seeing Hunter’s name flashing on the screen.

I swipe to answer but don’t say a word. I haven’t said a word since they took her, as if the words dried up the moment that cunt dragged her away like a dog on a leash. Even the thought of that collar he placed around her neck has my hand clenching around the device, and I’m only vaguely aware of Hunt’s voice calling my name.

“Rowan?” Blinking, I tune back in as I round the car and get into the driver’s side. “Fuck, Rowan. You’ve got another one, haven’t you?” He sighs, but I don’t answer, just grunt as I start up the engine, letting the phone connect to the Bluetooth and placing it in the holder on the dash as I don’t bother with my seat belt and pull out onto the road. “You can’t keep doing this, Rowan. You’ll piss them off and Sergi could take it out on her.” My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white. He doesn’t get it, not even Roman does. I have to do this, I have to make them hurt. Doing this is the only way to satisfy the demon inside of me. He heaves another sigh. “I’ll meet you at the warehouse.” The line goes dead.

London passes by in a blur of lights and traffic, a city as big as this rarely sleeps fully. I scoff. We have that in common. I don’t think I’ve slept more than a couple of hours at a time since she left.

I lose time again, and then I’m pulling into the warehouse we usually use to store product. It has a soundproof room, one that was used infrequently but has seen almost daily action since that night.

Another car is already there, and as I kill the ignition, the doors open and Hunt and Roman step out of the vehicle. Taking an inhale, I open my door and get out, the cool night air barely touching me even though I’m only in a T-shirt. It’s like the world has become dulled, the colours all seeped from it, all feeling smothered in a fog that refuses to lift.

“Hey, bro,” Roman greets, his voice soft and lacking the cheer that used to be there. He’s suffering from her absence too. We all are.

My brother used to be the epitome of joy, the light in our dark world, but someone snuffed out that sunshine, covering its rays with a cloud until all that’s left is a bleak sky. Hunt hasn’t stopped looking for a way to get her back, sleeping less than I am, but it’s futile. She’s locked away in that fucking mansion like a bird in a cage, and no one has seen her since that night.

I nod at him, going back to the boot and opening it, finding my guy still out of it. He should rouse just in time for the fun to start, and Roman doesn’t say another word, just helps me lift him out of the trunk and drag him into the building.

The tang of bleach with an underlying note of copper hits our noses as we enter. I’ve had a clean-up crew scrub the place, but my demon enjoys the fact that the place smells like death, that we will be able to hear the screams bouncing off the walls as we drag our man to the backroom.

Hunt follows behind us, not saying anything as we enter the space, my torture room. My beast purrs in my chest, something inside me easing as Roman and I wrap the manacles around the guy’s wrists so that he’s dangling from the ceiling, a drain below his feet.

Turning my back on him, I walk towards my bench, picking up a large knife. This will do to shred him of his clothes and dignity. It’s amazing how vulnerable people feel when they’re naked. Plus, it means it’s easier to get to his vital parts and the places that cause the most pain.

“Rowan.” Hunt’s voice is unyielding as I pass him, and I pause, the knife gripped in my steady hand. “Look at me.” Slowly, I tilt my head upwards, staring into his green eyes. They’re full of anguish, and the place where my heart used to be twinges. His shoulders rise and fall with his exhale, and he just nods, the muscles in his jaw working as his fists flex by his sides. “Okay.”

I break eye contact, unable to take his pain because I’m drowning in my own. My brother, the other half of me, is waiting, ready to have my back no matter what. He knows I need this, knows that breaking this cunt is the only way I’ll feel anything.

I don’t need answers, though I’m sure Roman will ask questions like he has every other time, torturing himself with what our girl is going through.

All I want is this man’s screams as I imagine it’s Sergi whose flesh parts underneath my knife, whose blood drips onto the concrete floor at our feet. I need them to drown out the more feminine screams that haunt me at night. Ones that I’ve never heard but can imagine all too easily as my Lamb faces a den of wolves alone.

“ARCADE - ACOUSTIC VERSION” BY DUNCAN LAURENCE

IRIS

The day outside my barred window is sunny, a perfect spring day. I’ve watched countless birds flitting through the trees of the Petrov London Estate over the past few weeks as we moved from winter to spring. How I envy their freedom, their ability to soar.

The bedroom Sergi gave me is luxurious with silk wallpaper in a deep burgundy lining the walls and an enormous four-poster bed covered in matching silk bedding and gold throw cushions, but it’s a place of horror, a gilded cage where I have no control over anything. What I wear, what I eat, and where I go is all proscribed by Sergi himself.

And he’s the monster of my nightmares. I finger the leather collar that has stayed on my neck since that night, a lock holding it in place so that I cannot remove his claim. My body aches with his physical claiming of me, something that happens almost daily and I’ve learned to tune out of it in order to survive.

All my tears have dried up. What’s the point in them if this is to be my life from now on?

The lock on my door clinks, but I don’t move, just continue to stare at the white clouds that roll across the sky outside my window.

“You’re required for breakfast, Kukolka,” one of Sergi’s men commands from the doorway, and I shiver. I hate that nickname. It means little doll, which is exactly how Sergi treats me. Dressing me up to his liking, never once asking what I might like, but forcing things upon me like I’m not really alive at all.

With a small, pained sigh, I get up from the window seat, the black, floor-length silk negligee falling to the floor in a whisper. I hate the softness against my skin, caressing all the bruises my owner leaves there, but it’s something that is beyond my control. I wear what he tells me to or nothing. Just another choice that is no choice at all.

Keeping my gaze lowered, unwilling to see the perverted lust that I know will be in his eyes, I walk out of the room, heading along the hallway and down the stairs towards the direction of the dining room like I do for every meal.

“Kukolka,” Sergi greets, his voice the kiss of a graveyard wind. All my muscles tighten, but I keep my face impassive, my gaze still lowered as I head towards my seat on his right. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Sergi,” I answer, the emptiness in my tone the only rebellion I have. I tried not speaking, but the beatings were not pleasant.

I sit down as someone tucks my chair in with my breakfast of smashed avocado on sourdough sitting on a plate in front of me. I fucking hate avocado, but refusal to eat earns another of Sergi’s harsh punishments, and it only took a week to break me and show me it wasn’t worth it.

Picking up my silver knife and fork, I cut a small piece off, drowning out the talk Sergi is having in Russian with one of his guys. He often has what I assume are business meetings at the table. I guess the Bratva never sleeps and is kind of a twenty-four-hour gig.

“Oh, Kukolka, I almost forgot. Nikolai will be home in a week, and although he’s a busy man, I’m sure he’ll be able to spare some time so you’re not alone every day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have some company your own age?” His voice is cajoling, and it takes a gargantuan effort not to show the relief on my face that Nik will be here soon.

“Yes, Sergi. Thank you,” I reply, my voice only trembling slightly. Inside, I am a maelstrom of emotions, a swirling vortex of hope and despair, desperate to see one of my soulmates, yet terrified of what he’ll find when he looks at me.

“You’re welcome, Kukolka,” he says, his hand landing on mine, which is resting beside my plate, my knife gripped tightly. “Now finish your breakfast and then I’ll have one of the men take you for a walk.”

My jaw barely clenches at his words, knowing that not only do the words make me sound like a fucking dog, but whichever man he chooses will hold a leash attached to my collar and literally walk me like a canine.

His hand releases mine, and I resume eating my breakfast like a perfect pet. Going outside, even with a leash, is worth obeying. Getting fresh air, feeling the breeze on my cheeks, and hearing the birds reminds me that there is a world out there. One where my soulmates, my Shadows, are safe, which makes all of this worth it.

I survive so they can live. I obey so they can go about their lives and be part of a world outside of these walls. There is no world if they are not part of it, so this way, I may not be free, but at least they are alive.

And I will endure anything to ensure their safety.

CHAPTER TWO

“I MISS YOU” BY LØV LI

HUNTER

Iwatch as Rowan uses a large knife to cut away this Russian man’s clothes, the sedative still keeping him knocked out. I’d feel sorry for the guy, but I’m pretty sure he was one of the ones who came to the estate that night, so fuck him. He doesn’t deserve my pity.

It’s why I can’t put a stop to Rowan hunting them down one by one and extracting his vengeance on them. It’s exactly what I want to be doing, and several times over the past few weeks I’ve joined in, unable to deny the rage that takes over me when I think of her being taken.

I’ve spent countless hours trying to get a glimpse of her, but Sergi has his mansion and estate locked down tighter than Fort fucking Knox. No one has seen her, and thus far, the men we’ve taken haven’t been able to shed any light on what is happening to her inside that hellhole.

It’s the not knowing that is slowly killing us. We can guess what she may be going through, though things get even bloodier when any of us go down that road.

“Wakey-wakey,” Roman sings, and I look up to see the man’s eyelids fluttering. “Welcome to your death.”

Crossing my arms, I lean against the workbench that contains all of Rowan’s tools and stare at the huge Russian as his eyes focus on his surroundings. To give him credit, he doesn’t show fear, his upper lip curling as he looks at each of us.

“Tvoyu mat bliad,” he spits out, his nostrils flaring. We ignore him, used to being called every name under the sun on a fairly regular basis ever since we were children.

“Awww, there’s no need to be offensive,” Roman replies, his tone mock-offended and his hand on his heart even as an unhinged grin splits his lips. “We’re all here to have a bit of fun. Well, we are. You’re just gonna be in a world of pain until we end your miserable existence.”

The man snarls in Russian again, but Rowan, clearly fed up with all the talk, uses the large knife in his hand to cut a line down the man’s thigh, missing anything vital and causing him to roar in agony. Blood seeps from the long wound, dripping down the man’s leg, who jerks on his chains, the clinking sound adding to his pants and whimpers.

Rowan doesn’t even pause, because the goal here isn’t information, but rather an exorcism of the demon that resides inside Rowan; all that is required is the body of an enemy.

“Her screams are music every night Sergi fucks her,” the man rasps, spit flying from his mouth. The blood freezes in my veins, and I hold my hand up to pause Rowan, all of us stilling. The Russian smiles, blood lining his teeth as no doubt he bit the inside of his cheek with the pain. “She’s so loud we can all hear, even with the door shut, and it makes me hard as a rock.”

I straighten up, stalking towards him until we’re almost nose to nose.

“Anything else?” My voice is barely a growl, like boulders grating against each other just before a landslide happens.

He. Fucking. Smiles.

“I’ve held her down a few times. We all have, though only Sergi may fuck her, and she bleeds so beautifully when he takes her, bruising so perfectly under his fists.” Nausea swirls in my gut at his words, at the truth I can see in his eyes. He knows he’s going to die. He has no reason to lie, unless he thinks his words will earn him a quick death. He’s wrong.

“Roman, secateurs,” I snarl, watching as our prisoner’s pupils widen.

The secateurs are in my hand a second later, and I step back, my gaze drifting downward to where his limp dick hangs. He’s not large, not too small either, which makes it easier for what I’m about to do. Roman goes behind him, holding his hips as he tries to jerk away, then I place the cutters on the base of him and snap them shut.

The scream that comes from his mouth is inhuman, blood pouring from between his legs as I let the secateurs and his severed dick fall to the floor with a clank and a wet sound. Before I need to say anything, Rowan is there with a small blowtorch, sealing the wound so this cunt doesn’t die too quickly. He passes out then, and I step back as Roman throws a bucket of ice water over the man to rouse him.

“It’s no fun if you’re not awake,” he tells him casually, setting the bucket down before grabbing a metal baseball bat.

The next few hours flow into one, each of us allowing our beasts free rein to do as they wish. It doesn’t stop the words he said from buzzing around my brain like angry wasps, stinging me over and over again until I’m bleeding just as much as he is. Though my wounds are invisible, his are less so, and by the time we’re finished, he’s almost unrecognisable.

Something drips down the side of my face and crimson soaks my hands, my clothes not much better. I look up at the twins, my chest heaving. They’re nightmarish in appearance, and my heart clenches at the deadness in Rowan’s eyes.

“Let’s leave him near the gates of the Petrov Estate,” I tell him, and he nods. “Get cleaned up and wrap the body. We’ll have to get rid of the car. Call Jonny.”

Jonny is our clean-up guy. He and his guys will have this room and the tools wiped down and the body cleaned of our DNA before dropping it where we need it to go. Sergi can guess who is killing off his men, but I don’t want to give him anything concrete.

A wave of worry runs through me as I realise Iris might be forced to pay for our actions today, and I clench my blood-soaked hands into fists as I stalk to the back of the room where there is a bathroom that we use to shower and clean ourselves after these sessions. I stride in, shedding my clothes and leaving them in a pile for Jon to take care of before walking over to the shower and turning it up to scalding.

I step under it, hissing as it burns my skin, but the pain grounds me. It’s something I should suffer, given what I now know Iris is suffering at the hands of that bastard. The bathroom door opens and shuts, the sound of clothes hitting the floor before another body steps into the shower.

“Jesus! Fuck, Hunt!” Roman exclaims, reaching past me to turn the temperature down. My chest rises and falls with my panted breaths, the sting of tears gathering in my eyes.

“She’s hurting, Roman,” I grit out through clenched teeth, my jaw so tight pain shoots down my neck. “She’s hurting, and I let him take her.”

His forehead rests on my back, his arms coming around and pulling me close to him.

“You had no choice, Hunt,” he tells me, something he has said so many times in the past three weeks I’ve almost lost count.

I swallow, knowing that he’s right but unable to shed the blame that coats my skin like an oil slick. “She chose us, and we failed.”

“I know.” His voice is thick and the tears fall from my eyes, mixing with the water from the shower.

I’m so fucking sorry, Peaches.

“SLIP AWAY” BY UNSECRET, RUELLE

IRIS

After breakfast, I’m led back upstairs to get dressed, my clothes for the day set out on the bed as they are each time I’m required by Sergi to change. He likes me in demure clothes, something that someone older than me would wear. The silk blouse and pencil skirt he laid out are perfectly fashionable, especially as both are Chanel, but they are not me.

Sighing, I head into the bathroom and quickly shower, brushing my teeth and hair, styling it in a simple, elegant bun as Sergi prefers. I want to leave it free or up in a messy bun, but I know the punishment will be severe and I’m just so fucking tired of fighting all the time.

Heading back into the bedroom, I pick up the black lace underwear and put it on, revulsion making the back of my jaw tingle. It’s beautifully soft and no doubt very expensive, but that Sergi chose it, that he knows what’s touching my most intimate places is enough to make me want to throw up.

Soon I’m dressed exactly as he likes, and I pull on the wool jacket that was in my closet when I arrived as I head to the door. I open it to find the goon from before waiting, arms crossed and a scowl on his ugly face. I haven’t bothered to find out the names of Sergi’s men, the ones that have seen so much of me. Some have even held me down while Sergi⁠—

I cut that thought off, my fists clenching as I ignore goon number one and stride past him towards the stairs. If I think about the nightly torment I undergo, I’ll start screaming and never stop.

Nikolai will be here soon…

The thought floats around my mind as I once more descend the stairs and head towards the back of the mansion. There are several exits into the grounds and gardens, all guarded by menacing-looking men who will feature in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

Ignoring them all, desperate for a breath of fresh air, I walk through one of the drawing rooms, which has large French doors that open onto the patio. The man on guard makes me wait a beat before he opens them—Sergi isn’t the only bastard here who thrives on controlling others—but as soon as he does, I stride through, taking what feels like the first breath of oxygen I’ve had since yesterday’s walk.

I don’t stop, walking away from the house and towards the woodland that makes up part of the estate. There are rolling lawns, and the spring sunshine teases my face with a caress that I don’t feel clean enough to deserve. Maybe that’s why I prefer to walk through the woods, it’s less…I don’t know. I just feel like the dappled sunlight is more my place right now. I can’t face the scrutiny of the brightness of the full sun, highlighting all the things that now make me feel so dirty.

Unwilling to face that trauma right now, I shut that shit down and try to focus on the here and now, on the birds singing in the trees and the rustle of the leaves that are emerging on the branches. There’s so much possibility here, the bright yellow daffodils almost bringing tears to my eyes with their cheerful promise of something better.

“How long until Nik is back?” I question, knowing that Goon One is close behind me by his heavy footfalls among the leaves.

“By the end of the week,” he answers, and I pause, surprised that he actually answered. Usually they all take great joy in tormenting me any way they can, and withholding information definitely counts.

“What day is it today?” I ask, my heart thudding loudly inside my chest as I wait to see if he’ll give me another piece of information. It’s like mining for gold, and I hold each one close to my chest. Whether I’ll trust what he tells me is another matter, though what choice do I have?

“Friday.”

The organ skips a beat and I take a sharp inhale as I resume my walk.

He might be here in three days or fewer, and while part of me is rejoicing, tears sting my eyes and my nose itches while another part of me cowers. What will he think, knowing that his father has been…intimate with me? And what if Sergi continues his violent affections once Nik is back?

I feel bile stinging the back of my throat at the idea that Nik might be forced to be the one to hold me down while his father takes what he wants. I don’t think he’d do it, but then he’ll be in danger, his plans in jeopardy, his life at risk.

A shiver works down my spine at the questions that swirl around my mind. It’s not as simple as counting on Nik to get me out of this. The Shadows would be in danger again, Sergi would hunt me once more, and not to mention Nik putting himself in the firing line.

The sun disappears behind a cloud, and a part of me wants to sink into the damp earth and let it consume me. To just disappear so that there are no more questions, no more worries.

I don’t think I’ll ever truly be free of Sergi’s clutches, this obsession that he has, which even I don’t know the reason behind. Not if we’re both alive anyway. No, one of us will have to stop breathing for this torture to end.

CHAPTER THREE

“PAIN’S MY ONLY HOME” BY ZEVIA

IRIS

The next three days move excruciatingly slowly, the sun continuing to shine as I wait for Nik to come home. By the time Sunday morning rolls around, I’m a fucking mess. My stomach clenches with both excitement and dread, my heartbeat sluggish and a sour taste in the back of my mouth as I head down for breakfast.

I go stock-still as I enter the room because Nik’s widening eyes tells me he didn’t know I was here.

“Ah, Kukolka, glad you could join us,” Sergi purrs, and I swallow hard, fighting the stinging in my eyes as I take a deep inhale and resume walking into the room, taking my usual place next to Sergi. I’m opposite Nik, who’s gazing at me, Dima and Andrei behind him like sentinels. “As you can see, Iris is back where she belongs, Nikolai.”

There’s an edge to his words, and I flick my gaze between father and son, my heartbeat thrashing inside my chest as I try to work out what Sergi’s angle is here.

“Good morning, Iris,” Nik murmurs, his voice gruff and deep, sending shivers cascading all over my body.

“Good morning, Nikolai,” I whisper back, my gaze locked with his. I can’t help it, my jaw tenses as I hold in the words I truly want to say, the plea that is being trapped just behind my lips. “I trust your trip was pleasant?”

My even tone makes pride shine in his eyes and warms the parts of me that have been frozen these past weeks.

“Very good, thank you,” he replies, lifting his coffee cup up to his mouth while the server places my breakfast of avocado and toast before me.

My hands only tremble slightly as I pick up my cutlery and look down at my food, feeling the weight of two chocolate gazes resting on me. One welcome, the other abhorrent.

“I was thinking you could help Iris settle in more,” Sergi states, making my hands pause in cutting my toast. “I’m sure you’d like that, Kukolka, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much, thank you, Sergi,” I answer, glancing up at Sergi, trying to keep my tone even and not show the level of excitement I feel at being able to have some time alone with Nik. My gaze flicks to Nik, seeing his fingers gripping his cup so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

“Excellent.” He beams like a benevolent ruler, and it hits me he is truly insane. He really believes that he is just, that what he’s done and continues to do is right and fair. “Why don’t you join Iris on her walk this morning? You can take your men, Nikolai. I need Vlad for something else.”

The name of my normal jailer flies past me as I sneak a look at Nik, as I try desperately to keep from smiling. I can’t let Sergi know just how much having some time alone with Nik means to me. He’d not only use it against me, but it might put Nik in danger, and I can’t do that to him.

“As you wish, Father,” Nik answers, his tone almost bored sounding, but his eyes burn into me.

Sergi switches to Russian, and I look back down at my breakfast, not hating the avocado as much as I did moments ago. I’ll get Nik today, and that is everything. Pain surges between my legs, reminding me of the rough treatment Sergi gave me last night, but taking a sharp inhale, I push it aside.

I’ll deal with that later, and with telling Nik. For now, I focus on eating as quickly as I can, but not too quickly as to be suspicious. I want to finish and get outside as soon as possible though, and not just for the fresh air. One of my soulmates is joining me, and that is better than any sunshine, breeze, or birdsong.

“UNWORTHY OF LOVE” BY CHAPTERS, BOLSHIEE

NIKOLAI

I itch all over, a pounding in my ears the only thing I can hear as I watch Iris eat. She winced when she sat down, and I was only here for a matter of minutes before I heard my father’s men talk about his new toy, one that they have held down while he does unspeakable things to her. I had to muster every ounce of self-control not to kill each and every one of them, even though their names are seared into my mind, on my kill list for when I can finally take control.

I spent my time in Russia securing my reputation, making my own contacts and gaining loyalty so that soon, very fucking soon, I can make the move. I just wish I’d been able to do it sooner. My delays have caused her pain and I’ll never forgive myself for it.

“Nikolai?” My father’s harsh tone cuts through my inner turmoil, and I turn away from Iris, who has just gotten up and excused herself, fucking Vlad following her, looking at her with a leer that needs to be carved from his face.

“Yes, Father?” I reply, keeping the anger from my tone by sheer fucking force of will. It helps that I’ve honed my skill of remaining blank throughout years of torture at this man’s orders if not his own hands.

“You can have today off, but then I need you with me as I move forward with the Fallen. They’re our way into the Enlightened, and you know how important they are for our empire,” he says, and I take an inhale at the names. I knew he wanted to get in with them. He wants more power, and the Enlightened and the Fallen have the lions’ share. The Fallen are one branch of the Enlightened, a not so secret society that has members in all echelons of society. It’s rumoured that they can get any information you need, and all it costs is a favour, but that favour could be something as simple as information in return or they could command you to murder your mother. You don’t know in advance, but you best be willing to pay the price, otherwise they will take it from your flesh instead.

“Where are we with them?” I ask, curious as when I left, he was just approaching them.

“They’ve invited me to their poker game in a couple of weeks to discuss our mutual interests,” he tells me, placing his now empty cup on the table. “You’ll be with me, of course, and we’re to bring some of the girls so we can show them what we have to offer.”

“Will you bring Iris?” I question, cursing myself as it was instinctive. My muscles tense as he looks at me, a considering gleam in his eyes.

“That’s a good idea, son. We can show them what happens when someone owes us, so they know we are not to be messed with,” he muses, placing his napkin on the table and getting up from his seat. I follow him, having lost my appetite the moment she walked into the room, looking like she’d died inside. “You can tell her on your walk.”

With that, he sweeps out of the room, his men who were standing along the walls following him and leaving me, Dima, and Andrei alone.

Andrei hisses under his breath, cursing in Russian, and I nod.

I don’t know what happened, but I plan to find out. Then I need to work out how to get her away from him and back with the Shadows, all while trying to stage a coup and murder my father. Fucking hell.

CHAPTER FOUR

“EYE OF THE STORM” BY IVY & GOLD

IRIS

There’s a lightness in my chest as I rush upstairs to my room to get ready. As usual, I find an outfit laid on the bed. High-waisted, wide-legged trousers in a soft navy fabric, a cream silk blouse with pearl buttons, and a boxy style navy cardigan with cream detailing at the pockets. My gaze stutters on the blood red lace bra and knickers, a shiver travelling across my nerves at the thought of wearing it. It’ll be visible underneath the blouse, and the thought that Nik will see the underwear his father chose for me leaves my stomach clenching and bile stinging my throat.

Taking a deep inhale, I head to the bathroom and rush through a shower and brushing my teeth, not wanting to waste a minute of my time with Nik. Before too long, I’m dressed, the red lace burning every part of my skin it touches, but I ignore the phantom pain as I pull the door open to find Dima standing there.

“Hello, Maya,” he greets softly in that deep, gruff voice of his, and it almost undoes me. His ocean blue eyes soften as mine mist over, the scar across his cheek pulling as his lips tip up in a small smile. “Let’s get you outside.”

I take a shuddering inhale, forcing the tears that sting my eyes down for just a few moments more. He places a large hand at my lower back, guiding me along the hallway and stairs, and then we’re going through another of the rooms downstairs, Nik and Andrei waiting on the stone patio for us. The sun is shining once more—it seems we’re having a beautiful spring this year—and I almost forget myself and run into Nik’s arms, which are by his sides, his fists clenched. Instead, I stop a couple of feet away from him, my body practically vibrating with the need to let him wrap his arms around me.

“Shall we head into the woods? I hear that’s your favourite walk,” Nik suggests, holding out his arm and indicating the woodland behind us.

I nod, unable to utter a word for fear that I will free the sob trapped in my throat, and there are still so many eyes on us. Andrei gives me a nod as he and Dima fall behind us, Nik walking alongside me as we head towards the trees.

We don’t speak, not until the forest surrounds us.

“What happened, Malyshka?” Nik’s low voice rings out like a shot, and my careful control fractures the sob ripping free from me. No sooner is the sound free than I’m in his arms, his scent surrounding me in a comforting embrace as he whispers soothing words I can’t hear over my anguish.

“I–I’m s–sorry,” I stutter, gripping his soft cashmere jumper tightly in my fingers, my teardrops sitting on the plush material and glistening in the dappled sunlight.

“What are you sorry for, Solnishko?” His voice is rough, like the words pain him, his grip tight around me. My stomach swirls with nausea, knowing that I have to tell him what his father has been doing to me, but dreading that it will make him release me in disgust.

“S–Sergi— He—” My body trembles as I try to force the words past my lips, but it feels like the moment I say them, it will all become real and not just a nightmare that I can pretend is happening to someone else.

Nik’s body goes rigid. “I know, Solnishko.” I freeze, my breaths shallow as I wait for his judgement, but he just pulls me closer. “And I’m so fucking sorry. I—” His words cut off, but I can hear the pain in their roughness, the blame that I know he lays at his feet for his father’s actions.

I look up at him, his chocolate brown eyes full of torment, tears making them glitter and shine like the most precious jewels. I release his jumper and with a trembling hand, I reach out to cup his smooth cheek.

“It’s not your fault, my love,” I whisper, my voice thick with the lump in my throat that won’t go away, and a single tear glides down his cheek, disappearing underneath my palm.

“I wasn’t here to stop him, to protect you,” he confesses in a small voice, so rough the words are barely audible. “And I don’t know how to protect you now.”

I knew that he’d be stuck between a rock and a hard place, knew that he couldn’t just whisk me away, but his words still cut like a blade to my soul.

“It’s okay, my love,” I tell him softly, staring deep into his eyes and letting myself fall for just a moment. “Doing this is protecting you, and them.”

His thick lashes kiss his cheeks as his eyelids close, another tear sliding down his skin on the other side. My anguish copies his, my hot tears flowing down my cheeks as I bring his lips to mine, tasting the salt of our sadness as our flesh touches and my eyes close.

“Moy Solntse.” He falters, his words a breath against my lips before his seal over mine.

I sob into his kiss, the relief almost leaving me dizzy. He doesn’t hate me, isn’t repulsed by me, even though he knows about his father’s nightly visits.

One of his hands comes up to pull my hair from the low bun I’d put it in, letting the tresses fall around my shoulders before he buries his fingers in them, using his grip to angle my head so he can kiss me deeper.

A moan floats between us, and I’m unsure whether it’s mine or his as his tongue caresses mine, trying to take all the darkness of the past few weeks away with each swipe. The world around us ceases to exist, the birdsong and sounds of the forest fading into nothing as we embrace. My soul keens, begs for this to be our future.

In some ways, having him here is more painful because I know I’ll have to endure Sergi’s touch again before the day is finished. Refusing to get lost in that darkness though, I focus on the taste of Nik, coffee mixed with something that is all him, his black pepper and vetiver scent surrounding me as he holds me close.

He gently breaks the kiss, pressing our foreheads together, and I keep my eyelids shut, needing to live in this moment for a while longer.

“He’s got too much power still, Dorogaia. If I make a move now, I’d be signing my death warrant and risking your life if they discovered our connection.” His words flow past my lips, tasting bitter and making my jaw ache. “But I’m putting things into place so that one day soon I can eliminate him and we’ll be free. You just need to hold on, and you’re so strong, Iris.”

Another sob falls from my lips, fresh tears tracing down my cheeks as I pull away slightly, opening my eyes so I can look into his.

“I don’t feel strong, Nik. I feel so lost, so broken,” I whisper, voicing the worry that I won’t be able to come back from this. That I’ll be this shadow for the rest of my life, whatever that looks like.

His hand detangles from my hair, cupping my cheek. “I will always help you find your way, Dorogaia,” he vows, his brows deeply furrowed. “And I will fix all your broken parts with my own until together we are whole again.”

“BITTER HEART” BY MEMI

NIKOLAI

I watch her eyes sparkle with her sadness and hate myself as much as my father for not being able to prevent the horrors that he put inside them. I hate that she’s just as broken as I am now, by the same hand that made me suffer for my entire life, and even though I’m back, her suffering will continue because I’m helpless to stop it.

He’s put her in my wing, just next door to my room so I will hear every scream, every whimper that he forces from her, and I swear Dima will have to knock me out or Alexei drug me up because I’m not sure how I’ll stop myself from storming in there and putting a bullet between his eyes, consequences be damned.

I wonder if he put her there on purpose? If he suspects our deep connection and wants to show his power over me too?

I still don’t know what his obsession with her is. Is it just as simple as she was a part of a deal and he sees her as his property? Or is there something more that I’m missing? Something that makes her mean so much more to him than a simple power trip?

Heaving a sigh, I brush my lips against hers once more before pulling back and taking her hand in mine. I need to move, otherwise I’ll explode or try to claim her from him, and she doesn’t need that right now, not after what he’s put her through.

“In a couple of weeks, there’s a poker game and Sergi will take you alongside some other girls,” I tell her, watching her still misty eyes widen.

“Why?” she questions, her brows furrowed in the cutest way.

“Because it shows what he does if you can’t pay your debts, shows the power he has, and he wants to impress the people holding the game,” I reply, and my jaw tightens.

“Because my dad couldn’t pay his debts, you mean?” I watch as her hazel gaze hardens at the mention of her father. Good. He doesn’t deserve her love or affection anymore.

“Yes, and will demonstrate the benefits of being our friends and allies.” My upper lip curls.

“How so?”

“Sergi’s primary source of income is in the skin trade, Dorogaia,” I grit out, hating this element of my family’s business more than any other.

I’ve seen more scared and helpless women in my life than one soul should have to bear, watched them be abused and sold like chattel, all the while unable to do a single thing to help. More recently, I’ve helped them in small ways, getting them medical help and contraception so they don’t bring another generation into this horrific situation. I’m also making sure they’re well-fed and even vetting some buyers so the worst are refused entry.

It’s not enough, and I know that my soul is a blackened thing that doesn’t deserve to be in the same room as Iris, let alone holding her hand and kissing her plush lips. One day, I will have to confess all my sins and be judged by her. She is the only authority I acknowledge and will bow down to.

“The skin trade?” she asks, her eyes narrowed as if in confusion and her head cocked to the side, and my heart sinks at having to explain this part of the world to her.

“He sells women at auction to the highest bidder, Dorogaia.”

She freezes, her mouth parting as her eyes widen until the whites show.

“W–will h–he s–sell m–me?” she stutters, barely able to get the words past her chattering teeth, and I pull her into me, wrapping her trembling body with my own as if that will stop anything terrible happening to her.

“I don’t think so, Solnishko,” I murmur against her head, rubbing my palms up and down her spine as she clings to me. “His…” I swallow. “Obsession with you will keep you from them.” It’s the only silver lining about this, about his fixation with her. He won’t sell her to a monster far worse as long as she holds his interest, but then she has to suffer his attention.

After several moments, she stops shaking, pulling back just enough to look at my face.

“So he’s taking the girls to the poker game to show off the fact that what? If people become his friends, he can gift them a human fucking woman like they’re a bottle of fucking wine?” Her cheeks flush, her lips pull back in a snarl, and she looks magnificent in her rage.

“It’s fucked, I know, Dorogaia,” I say, my jaw aching with how fucking helpless I am to right all these wrongs my father is committing. “And it’s the first thing I will abolish when I take over. I have all the names and locations of every woman ever sold and I will make it right, I swear.” I plead with my eyes for her to believe my intention. No, my promise. I will not let those women suffer a moment more than they have to, and I will atone for my father’s crimes, even if it takes my lifetime.

Her gaze softens, her hand coming up between us to stroke my cheek.

“You’re always trying to save us, Nik, those of us who haven’t been able to save ourselves. You’re a good man,” she whispers, her eyes shining with adoration that I don’t deserve.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I need to be better,” I confess quietly, all my failures weighing me down enough to drown me.

“You are enough, my love,” she whispers back, and tears sting my eyes.

“I hope so.” Taking a deep inhale, I place a light kiss on her lips, wanting to believe her words, wishing they were true with every fibre of my being.

Deep down though, I know that I’m not enough. Not enough to save her from my father and not enough to take him down so that she doesn’t have to suffer a moment more at his hands.

CHAPTER FIVE

“IRIS” BY TOMMEE PROFITT, RUELLE

ROMAN

The beat of the music flows around me, but it can’t offer its usual comfort. Not now that she’s not here with me, sharing her light, chasing away all the darkness. We’re at Depravity, and Tommee Profitt is playing a set, something that I’ve been looking forward to since fuck knows how long.

But it’s like the world turned grey, as if someone sucked out all the colour and life the moment she was taken, and when we discovered what she’s going through, what that cunt, Sergi, is doing to her…something inside me died.

I swirl my drink around in its crystal glass, the clear liquid reflecting the lights that pulse around us. The club is packed, the VIP area full, but as I look around our booth, I see Hunt and my brother both staring into their own drinks, and I know we will not be okay until she’s back with us.

The lights go dark as the opening strains of “Iris” start up, Ruelle’s haunting voice making tears prick my eyes. Fuck, it hurts so badly not having her here. Knowing that we failed to protect her is like a wound that won’t heal, that will fester and bleed out, but never give me the relief of death.

“Why so glum, boys?” A thick, Irish accent breaks into my maudlin thoughts, and I glance up to find Uncle Michael—or Fingers as he’s known by, which I’ve never questioned the reason why because he’s family and no one needs to know that shit—taking a seat across the table from us, his red hair wild and his thick, tattooed forearms bulging from his rolled-up shirtsleeves. Michael O’Sullivan is mine and Rowan’s uncle, our Ma’s brother, and when he finally found out about us after Ma passed away when we were eighteen, he contacted us. It was too late by then to take us in. We were adults and living with Hunter, fully fledged Shadowmen, but he introduced us to the family, who had made peace with our Da’s family, the O’Brians, so we got them too. Our connection to the two Irish mobster families has come in handy more than once. It was why we thought we’d be safe from Sergi. More fucking fool us.

“Nothing we can’t handle, Fingers,” I say, not sure how much Hunt wants us to share about our current predicament. We may be in with our family, but that doesn’t mean we trust them. He turns his gaze to Hunt.

“I heard those Russians stole yer pretty new wife, Hunter,” he muses, and the tension at our table thickens to choking point. “It’s not right, taking a man’s lady like that. Not gentlemanly.” I narrow my eyes at the big man, wondering what his angle is, what he’s trying to say. Then he looks at me. “Did I ever introduce you ta yer cousin, Azazel?”

A hush falls over the VIP area, the crowds parting as three men come towards us, and my heartbeat thunders inside my chest as I realise who they are. The Fallen, part of the Enlightened, a not so secret society that rules the fucking world near enough. They have members in every government, every country in the world, and every echelon of society. There are several groups that make up the Enlightened, the Fallen being one who deals in information and favours.

He can’t mean that one of them is our cousin, right?

Hunt straightens in his seat next to me as the men approach, all three dressed head to toe in black and wearing black masks that cover half their faces. That’s another thing about them. No one knows exactly who they are because when they’re together like this, they cover their faces.

The one in the lead, a tall man with skin that looks dark in the lowlights of the club, steps up to the table, taking a seat next to Fingers. Lucifer is his name, my mind supplies. They all have names of fallen angels, taking them when they pass the trials that are brutal as fuck.

“Hunter Anderson, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he purrs, his deep voice washing over me and sending fucking shivers down my spine. The other two men, one with hair that looks black and the other with almost silver hair, stands behind him, flanking his back.

“Likewise, Lucifer,” Hunt says, setting his glass down on the table. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Whatever you’re having looks good,” Lucifer replies, and Hunt signals the waitress over, who is already bringing Hunt’s favourite whiskey and three more glasses. “May I introduce Azazel and Belial?” Hunt nods at the men standing at Lucifer’s back, and they nod back, but I focus on trying to work out who is who.

“Azazel, meet your cousins, Roman and Rowan Kent,” Lucifer says, his lips tilted in a smirk as if he has known the connection all along and is enjoying revealing the secret.

“Nice to meet you, boys,” the dark-haired one states, his Irish accent unmistakable.

“You too,” I reply, glancing at Rowan, who is staring at the guy in that way he does, dissecting him, trying to work out what makes him tick. It’s unnerving as fuck, but Azazel’s lips twitches, like he finds it amusing.

“Of course, tonight wasn’t just about a family reunion,” Lucifer interjects, his voice devoid of any emotion.

“Of course,” Hunter adds, his face a mask and unreadable as he doesn’t take his eyes off Lucifer.

“We’d like to extend an invasion to the three of you, to a poker game that we are holding in a couple of weeks time,” Lucifer tells us, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a black envelope with gold details that sparkle when the lights hit them.

He extends his hand out to Hunter, who takes the envelope and opens it, pulling out a single piece of black card, also with gold foiling. Something else falls from the envelope, and my insides twist even before my mind has fully caught up with what it is. A perfectly dried iris flower sits on the glass table, its colours dull but bright enough to still make me sure what the flower is.

I snap my head back to Lucifer, who is sitting there with a half smirk on his face, like he knows the bomb he’s just dropped on us.

“What is this?” Hunt asks, his voice dark and full of a menace that usually has people pissing their pants. Lucifer just smiles, inclining his head.

“I think you know,” he states, then gets up. “We don’t take IOU’s on the night. You play with what you have on your person, so make sure you bring enough.”

My skin tingles and sweat beads along my spine when Lucifer turns his back on us and strides away.

“See you there, Col Gaolta,” Azazel says before following him, the silver-haired one, Belial, walking after them.

I glance back down at the flower, then up at Hunter’s swirling eyes.

“Does this mean she’ll be there?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I hardly dare utter the words, as if by saying them I’m jinxing something.

“Perhaps,” Hunt replies, looking at me, his jaw working as he thinks. “But why would they do this? What is their price?”

“Ya won’t know until they tell ya, lad,” Fingers interjects, and I blink, having forgotten he was even there. “The question you should ask yerself, is what are ya willing ta pay ta get her back?”

I lock eyes with Hunter first, then Rowan, and I know mine have the same answer in them.

Anything. Everything.

We would pay whatever it takes to get Iris back, to have her with us where she belongs.

“GET YOU THE MOON (FEAT SNØW)” BY KINA

IRIS

Nik and I spent as long as we could in the woods on the Petrov Estate, just soaking in each other’s presence. It felt so damn good to have his arms around me, to allow myself to sink into him and just forget all the shit that I’ve had to go through lately.

Like all dreams though, I had to wake up, and my stomach growls as we head back towards the mansion when the sun is high in the sky. Nik lets go of my hand just before we leave the tree line and my heart aches at the loss. I know we will have lots of eyes on us, but I still yearn for his touch, even knowing that it could sign our death warrants.

“Let’s have lunch together, Malyshka,” Nik suggests under his breath, his husky voice sending goosebumps across my skin. “Sergi is out on business and he said I can spend some time with you, so it won’t be suspicious.”

Knowing our time together isn’t quite at an end eases the pain inside of me as we make our way inside and towards the dining room, seeing only a few of Sergi’s men along the way. They all incline their heads to Nik in respect, some lower than others, and I wonder if those men are more loyal to him than his father. Will they support him when the time comes for him to take over?

Nik pulls my chair out for me when we reach the dining room, but unlike this morning, he sits next to me, Andrei and Dima sitting across from us. As the door opens, the smell of freshly cooked steak fills the room, instantly making my mouth water, and the servant places a plate of the most delicious food before me.

I look at Nik with wide eyes as I notice the huge portion in front of me, which includes my favourite sweet potato fries. “Sergi has me on a very strict diet. I’m usually only allowed a salad at lunch, Nik,” I whisper once the servers leave, shutting the door behind them.

Nik’s jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring. “Eat your lunch, Moy Solntse.”

A shiver races across my skin, but unlike the times when Sergi has ordered me, I don’t mind when Nik does it. In fact, there’s a comfort in his command, a permission to let go and trust that in this one thing, he’s got me. A low moan falls from my lips at the first bite, and a deep chuckle from across me has my gaze finding Andrei.

“You keep making noises like that, Zaya, and Nikolai won’t be able to leave the table when we’re done.” He chuckles and my cheeks heat as I glance at Nik, his deep brown eyes full of a banked heat that leaves me breathless.

Tears make my eyes sting, and I have to blink furiously to stop them from falling as I swallow the delicious meat. Knowing that he still wants me in that way, after everything his father has done to me, it soothes some of the wounds that are festering inside my soul. His brows dip down in a frown, his own lunch untouched as he gazes at me.

“What’s wrong, Dorogaia?” he questions, his voiced pained like he hates seeing me sad.

“Y–you still want me? Even after…” I can’t bear to finish the sentence, the trauma too fresh, too horrific to speak aloud.

His hands clench into fists on the table, his body almost vibrating as he holds himself back. “I will never stop wanting you in every way.” His words are said through clenched teeth, but I know it’s not anger at me he’s feeling. It’s at his father, at this awful situation that we’re in. “Nothing will make me desire you any less, Iris.”

I lose my battle with my tears—I’m so fucking weepy since he came back—and one traces a burning path down my cheek. His hand unclenches, his fingers brushing the tear off my cheek as his eyes swirl with a mix of rage and agony. I want to take it away from him, but I’m drowning in my own, both of us barely able to tread water as we navigate this storm.

“Eat now, Dorogaia,” he commands, and I sniffle, turning my attention back to my meal. Things might be fucked right now, but just maybe, it won’t be like this forever. Perhaps there is light somewhere at the end of this dark and gloomy tunnel. We just have to hold out long enough to see it.

After lunch, Nik leads me upstairs to my room, his hand a comforting warmth on my lower back as we stop in front of my door.

“My room is just next door,” he tells me softly, Dima and Andrei shielding us from the view of any of Sergi’s men who are always hanging around, watching. “This is my wing.”

My eyes widen, my mind going straight to what happens nightly with Sergi’s visits. At least he’s stopped bringing in some of his men to hold me down since I stopped fighting him, just laying there and trying to escape what my body is going through. It’s comforting yet horrifying knowing that Nik will be on the other side of the wall, unable to stop it but helping me through it in a way.

His fingers brush mine as my thoughts race, and I look into his eyes, seeing the pain in their depths that matches what I feel.

“There are servant doors that connect all the rooms. I’ll come and visit you later, okay?” His voice is raspy, like the words hurt leaving his throat. We both know that he means after his father has taken what he does every night.

“Okay, Nik,” I murmur back, wishing I could just lean into him, let him wrap his arms around me, and take away the nightmare to come.

But wishes are the dreams of innocents, of children who have never seen the monster that hides under the bed and never met the devils that plague our world. They have no place in my life right now, so I heave a sigh and turn around, opening my door and allowing him to lock it behind me. This is my life now, in my opulent cage.

I may be allowed to spread my wings a few times a day, but the freedom is taunting and false, for I always end up back here, in a place that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I press my back against the wooden door, sliding down it until I’m sitting on the thick carpet, my arms wrapped around my knees as I allow the tears to freely fall and sob for all the things that have been taken from me.

CHAPTER SIX

“NOT ABOUT ANGELS” BY BIRDY

IRIS

Istay curled in on myself for hours, watching as the light changes in the room, the brightness of day morphing into the dark of night. No one comes to bring me dinner, which isn’t unusual, as Sergi often skips my meals as if he wants me to lose weight or just forgets about me. What a neglectful owner he is.

By the time I get up and head to my bathroom, I’m numb, going through my evening routine on autopilot and then returning to my window seat to look out at the darkness while I await my nightmare.

The small clock near my bed reads almost eleven when the lock on my door clicks, a Russian curse sounding as the handle turns clumsily, the door being thrown open and hitting the wall with a crash.

“Kukolka,” he rasps, his words slightly slurred as he staggers into the room, slamming the door behind him. My heartbeat pounds hard as he weaves his way towards me. It’s the first time he’s turned up drunk, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. “Why did you leave me before, Kukolka?” My chest goes tight as I swallow, wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. Is it when Nik took me to the Shadows? Is that what he means? “I searched for years, but I found you. I’ll always find you, Anushka,” he purrs, stumbling towards me and tangling his hand in my hair. He yanks me to my feet with his hold, and I grit my teeth at the sharp sting, feeling his vodka breath wash over me, making my stomach clench. “You’ll never leave me again, will you, Kukolka?”

He gives me a little shake, pain lancing across my scalp as he tears some strands out of my head. “N–no, Sergi,” I stutter, my feet tripping over themselves as he drags me to my bed and throws me down on top of the freshly made covers.

My breathing becomes shallow as I watch him undress, my body trembling because I know what happens next and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. It’s like my body gives up, freezing as he sheds the last item of clothing, his arousal clear as he kneels on the bed. His hand wraps around my ankle and he sharply pulls me towards him, all the breath leaving my lungs when I look up at him.

He’s a demon, a monster who rips me apart every night. The sound of tearing fills the room alongside my quiet, panted breaths as he rips open my silk nightgown, exposing me to his loathsome gaze.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes burning a path across my skin and making bile fill my throat. My jaw clenches when he covers my body with his, his touch so repulsive that I have to swallow repeatedly to stop vomiting all over him. I made the mistake of vomiting the first time he touched me like this, and learned not to repeat it after the beating he gave me.

A pained grunt leaves my body when he enters me, my gaze fixed on the darkness outside, my mind detaching from what is happening to my body, even as wetness seeps from my eyelids as the pain of his intrusion registers.

I drift back to happier memories of Nik and I in my old house, running around the garden, the sun on our faces and laughter flowing between us as we play one game or another.

He doesn’t last long—he never does—and soon, he’s heaving himself off me, his skin sweat-slicked as his chest heaves with his exertion. I remain frozen, my eyes not leaving the dark window as I hear him redressing, then the stride of his footsteps as he leaves, the slamming of my door and the engaging of the lock the cue for my body to relax, my eyes finally closing as I just breathe.

“COMATOSE” BY SØD VEN

NIK

Growls rumble inside my chest as I pace my room, both Dima and Andrei standing in front of the servant’s door, blocking my way into Iris’s room, no doubt saving my life. I fucking hate them for it though. I’ve been pacing since I heard him stumble his way into her room, a red mist descending over my vision when the rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall filled my ears.

Only the threat of Andrei sedating me held me back, my promise to Iris ringing in my ears. I said I’d see her after my father’s visit, try to ease the pain that he’s inflicted, though fuck knows how. All I know is I can’t leave her to face this alone, even if the only thing I can do is hold her and pray for her forgiveness.

The thumping stops with a deep groan from my sire that leaves me nauseated, then no sound until his footsteps and then the opening and slamming of her door. Seconds pass as I stand frozen, straining to hear his footsteps make their way to his side of the house, away from us.

“Move,” I command with a voice that holds no compromise, sharp as a whip, and my men obediently part to allow me access to the door. Ever since I finished dinner, I have been fixated on it. Iris wasn’t allowed to join me. No, I had to sit through it alone, unable to eat much knowing what was coming. My hands tremble as I insert the key and turn it. No sound comes from it as I push it open and enter her room.

My breath rasps in my throat as my gaze zeros in on the bed, on her lying there, her black, silk nightgown ripped, her eyes closed. She hasn’t even noticed my arrival, and moisture fills my eyes as I look down her body, seeing the bruises, the fingerprints, and red marks all at the hands of the man who gave me life.

My jaw works as I look between her legs, seeing the evidence of his abuse, the way her beautiful pussy is red raw, a glisten that I know is his release and not hers, making it look even more sore.

“Solnishko,” I breathe out, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind me. I should let Andrei in here to check her over, but I can’t bear the idea of anyone else seeing her like this, seeing what he’s reduced her to. Plus, I won’t do anything without her permission or consent. She’s had enough taken from her without me adding to it.

Her eyelashes flutter, but she doesn’t open her eyes, silent tears tracking a path of anguish down her beautiful cheeks, which are far too hollow for my liking. Slowly, I make my way to the side of the bed, crouching down so that my face is level with hers.

“Iris, it’s me, Nik,” I softly tell her, reaching out a hand and pushing some loose strands of hair off her face. “I’m here, like I promised, Moy Solntse.” I can’t stop the way my voice catches, my pain at seeing her like this and being unable to stop it is almost too much to bear, but I will, because she has to suffer so much more.

“Nik?” she asks, her voice croaky with disuse. Her lashes flutter and she finally opens her eyes, the whites red, the skin around them tight as she takes a stuttered breath. “You came.”

I swallow hard past the lump that is threatening to choke me. “I will always be here for you, Moy Solntse.” My palm cups her cheek, my thumb lightly tracing the soft skin of her beautiful face, even if I have no right touching her. I can’t help it. My soul demands the connection.

“I hate the way he always leaves himself behind, Nik,” she whispers, her throat bobbing and her own fingers clenching the bedcovers. She doesn’t move otherwise, just lies there as he left her, hurting and so fucking broken it breaks my heart, tearing my soul to shreds. “Even when I wash him off, I can still feel him, feel his touch burning into me like a brand.”

“I can take him away, take away every touch and replace it with mine so all you know is me,” I suggest, a desperate need to do just that roaring through me, setting my blood alight. I may not be able to stop him, but I can burn him from her mind, make it so all she thinks about is me, but I won’t do it without her permission. It may be too much for her right now, yet it’s all I can offer her at this moment other than my presence.

Her eyes drill into mine, burying into my fucking soul as she thinks about my proposal.

“I’m hurting, Nik, I don’t think I can…” she confesses, and she doesn’t need to finish for me to understand her perfectly.

“I won’t enter you, Dorogaia. Just kiss it all better,” I assure her, my heart pounding inside my chest at the thought. I can’t lie, I want her badly. I always do and always have ever since I knew what she was to me; my soulmate.

She swallows, her slender neck bobbing with the action, then her head dips in a nod. Slowly, so as not to startle her, I drop my head down and place my lips on her trembling ones, my eyes drifting closed the moment I make contact.

It’s like how I imagine it feels to come home to find everything as you left it, all warmth and comfort. Like it was every time I came to Iris’s house. A small sigh brushes against my lips, and my tongue traces the seam of them, requesting access that she freely gives. It’s the best gift, and I don’t waste it, delving into her mouth and using my grip on her cheek to gently angle her face so I can go deeper.

I inhale the small moan that falls from her lips into mine, relishing that I can have this effect on her, before I pull away, needing to kiss all her hurts.

“Still okay with this?” I ask, my voice low and husky with the desire that thrums through my veins.

“Yes,” she replies, her own tone breathy, but her eyes now heated instead of filled with anguish. I smile at her, placing another peck on her luscious lips before releasing her and climbing onto the bed next to her.

My eyes trace down her neck, spotting some old fingertip-shaped marks around it, marring her beautiful skin. Forcibly relaxing my jaw, I lean down and pepper the areas with kisses. Her hiss of breath and the way her chest thrusts forward tells me she is enjoying my attention.

Moving down her body, I kiss every bruise and mark, replacing them with my lips and tongue. She writhes beneath me, her breaths becoming more laboured and her skin flushing with lust the longer I tease her with light touches.

I pause when I get to her poor abused pussy, my chest rising and falling rapidly as rage wars with desire the longer I stare at what my father has done to her. There don’t appear to be any tears—thank fuck, because I’m not sure how I’d react if there were—but it’s sore and raw looking, which isn’t surprising given what he’s been doing to her every night.

“I’m going to get rid of him, okay, Dorogaia?” I ask, glancing up at her and wanting to celebrate her hooded eyes, bright with lust.

“Okay, Nik,” she answers, and I settle between her thighs, my face hovering over her honey-coloured curls.

Lowering my face, I lick a line up her slit, gathering as much of the cum that is leaking out of her as I can. Then I turn to the side and spit it out onto the sheet, far away from her, and make a mental note to change these before she goes to sleep.

I glance up once more to see her wide eyes staring down at me, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes glassy as I repeat the move, dipping my tongue inside her and scooping more of my father’s cum out of her. I spit that out too, infusing the gesture with all the hate and loathing I have for this man.

“Still okay?” I ask her, my voice gruff with the emotions that are swirling inside me.

“Y–yes, Nik.”

“Khorosho,” I answer, going back to my work, soothing her and eradicating Sergi.

Her thighs tremble as I keep licking before sucking her clit, using one hand to keep her lips open so I can access it fully. I can only taste her now, all traces of my sire gone, and I flick my gaze up her body to find her back arched, her eyes closed, and a look of pleasure making her features tight.

Smiling, warmth radiates throughout my body as I increase my efforts, alternating between fucking her gently with my tongue and sucking her needy clit into my mouth.

“Fuck, Nik,” she moans, and I swear it’s the best goddamn sound in the world. Her thighs nearly strangle me, her fingers gripping my hair tightly as her release fills my mouth. There’s so much of it she’s practically waterboarding me, but if this is the way I die, I will go a lucky man.

I keep licking and sucking, not relenting until she’s pushing my head away from her. Wiping my mouth and chin on my arm, I sit up, my dick tenting my sweatpants as I gaze at her flushed body. She fucking glows, her chest heaving and her eyes closed as she comes down from the high that I gave her. It’s so different from the sight that greeted me when I walked in, and a twinge runs through my centre, knowing that she’ll have to go through tonight countless times before I can get her away.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“DANGEROUS GAME” BY CLERGY, BEGINNERS

IRIS

The next week passes much quicker than the weeks before, all thanks to Nik. We spend at least a little time each day together, walking in the woodlands, having picnics, and I can almost forget that I’m held captive here.

I’m reminded each night when Sergi makes his visits though. He’s even more vicious and cruel than usual, trying to draw sounds from me like he knows Nik can hear him and wants to prove some sort of point. I’m left bruised and hurting, but each night, Nik comes in and kisses all my hurts better, giving me the pleasure his father denies and replacing Sergi’s hated touch with his own. He never takes anything for himself, just holds me until I fall asleep in his arms, the sheets clean as he changes them while I shower.

Sergi doesn’t mention Anushka again, and when I asked Nik, he had no idea who she was either. From what Sergi said, she was someone important to him, someone who got away and who he’s been searching for for years. She’s also clearly someone who I remind Sergi of, and when I mentioned this to Nik, he said that would explain Sergi’s obsession with me. Nik said he’d do some digging, try to find out who she is so we can see if it can be used against Sergi in any way.

Late one afternoon, I’m sitting in my usual place on the window seat, gazing out at the sun making its way across the sky when my door opens. Sergi strides in, one of the maids trailing behind him with a garment bag slung over her arm.

“I have some very important guests arriving in a few hours, and you will be there to greet them,” he tells me, his gaze slithering over me and leaving bile burning the back of my throat.

My brows furrow. “You want me to meet them?” I ask, my breath stilling as he comes to stand before me, looming over me like a demon ready to steal my soul.

“Kukolka,” he purrs, and I swallow hard as his hand reaches out, his fingers trailing along my neck, and I know he’s tracing the fingerprint bruises he left last night. “Of course I want you there. It’ll be a good reminder to your father’s associates of what happens if they can’t pay their debts.”

I clamp my lips between my teeth, willing the tremble to go away. Another way he’s planning on humiliating me, by showing all my father’s old friends just how far I’ve fallen.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs while leaning down, and my entire body freezes, my heart pounding as his lips press a gentle kiss to my cheek. Then I release a ragged exhale when he straightens. “Anya will help you to get ready. Come downstairs for seven sharp, don’t be late.”

With one final caress to my cheek, he spins on his polished heel and leaves the room.

“Come along, Miss,” Anya says, laying the garment bag on my bed and sweeping her arm towards the bathroom. “How about a shower first, and then I can do your hair and make-up?”

A couple of hours later, I’m staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror and wondering who the woman is staring back at me. She’s wearing a beautiful floor-length, figure-hugging, black sequin dress, a thigh-high slit exposing the creamy expanse of my thigh, and a tasteful amount of cleavage drawing the eye to her breasts. Her hair is in tumbling blonde waves that frame her perfectly made up face and the bruises that decorate her neck like a necklace. Anya was instructed not to hide any of the marks Sergi has left on my body, another way to show his power I suppose.

“You look beautiful, Miss,” Anya whispers, and I turn to face her just as the door opens once more.

My breath catches when chocolate-brown eyes lock onto mine, and unlike when his father is staring at me, my body fills with heat when Nik’s gaze travels over me. His stare halts on my neck, his jaw flexing ever so slightly before his gaze returns to mine.

“Time to go,” he says, his voice slightly deeper than usual, and he holds his bent arm up, a clear indication for me to take it.

Taking a deep inhale, I stride towards him, my Louboutin heels sinking into the carpet. I drink him in as I take the few steps to be at his side. He looks fucking devastating in his black tux, his black shirt and bow tie only highlighting his ink that peeks at his collar and cuffs. I slide my hand through his arm and his muscles flex, sending heat running through me, remembering how he held my thighs open last night as he feasted on me once again.

“You are breathtaking, Moy Solntse,” he whispers against my ear as we turn to make our way downstairs.

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, Nik,” I answer, my lips tipping up into a smile at his chuff of laughter.

He leads me to the stairs, and as we get closer, I hear the noise of people chatting.

“There are some very important people here tonight, Dorogaia,” he murmurs as we walk. “People who my father has under control in one way or another. Politicians, business leaders, even the Police Commissioner.” I shiver at his words, at the impossible power that Sergi seems to have. How are we ever going to take him down with those kinds of people in his pocket? “Be on your guard. These are not good men.”

Before I can ask what he means, we’re at the top of the stairs, and I look down to see every eye in the room looking up at us. My heart thuds painfully inside my chest, like a bird trapped and flinging itself against a window in a desperate bid to fly free.

“Ah, Nikolai, there you are,” Sergi crows as we make our way down the stairs. “And you’ve bought my pretty houseguest, Iris Montgomery.”

I feel more than hear the murmurs, knowing from what Sergi said earlier that many of my father’s business associates and friends are here tonight. I glance around as we descend, seeing several familiar faces, my pulse racing each time I recognise someone. My brows dip when I see many of them with barely dressed women draped over them, many of whom look to be incredibly young and not quite with it. Nausea swirls in my stomach when I remember Nik telling me about his father’s flesh trade business, about the women forced to be part of it. Seeing these men, some who I’ve known since I was a child, with girls who are barely legal, has heat flashing throughout my body, my teeth grinding.

“Breathe, Solnishko,” Nik mutters, and I inhale his comforting scent, letting it ground me.

We reach the bottom of the stairs, Sergi’s hand landing on my lower back and burning like acid. Nik releases my arm but stays by my side as Sergi turns to a man facing away from us with salt-and-pepper hair, a girl who looks to be no more than sixteen hanging off his arm.

“Roger, I believe you know Iris?” Sergi says, not even attempting to hide his glee as Roger turns to face us, his eyes widening when he catches my gaze. It takes everything I have to remain upright, his presence like a gut punch. Roger was almost like an uncle to me, my father’s partner, and spent many hours at our house, bringing his wife and daughter, Susan, for Sunday lunch more times than I can count.

“I–Iris, good to see you again,” he stammers out, his cheeks flushing and a sheet of sweat breaking out across his forehead. His eyes dart to the girl at his side and then back to me, and I almost curl my lip at him, but Nik presses against my side, bringing me out of that foolishness.

“Roger, how’s Susan doing?” I ask, drawing on every fucking etiquette lesson I had at Windym’s and plastering a fake smile on my face.

“G–good, she’s engaged now, wedding set for Christmas,” he answers, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face.

“Please pass on my congratulations,” I reply, my cheeks aching with the smile that is stretching my lips. “And Angie? Is she doing well?”

He flinches at the mention of his wife, and Sergi’s fingers dig in painfully at my lower back.

“She’s well, thank you,” he says in a measured tone, then something evil flashes in his eyes. “I hear your father is enjoying Bali.”

I can’t breathe, the sounds of the room muffled as his words hit me like someone just ripped my heart out. I thought I’d gotten over the betrayal, that my father’s actions no longer hurt me, but clearly they do, and it’s going to take a while to get over the hurt of his abandonment.

Fingers stroke mine, and the brief touch is enough to bring me back to the present, to the man who I considered almost an uncle, who’s now looking at me like I’m less than nothing.

“Enjoy the party, Roger,” I tell him, my voice robotic and unlike any I’ve ever used before, but I need to switch myself off to protect myself, to put this new wound with all their others in the back of my mind. To be dealt with at a future point.

“Yes, enjoy the party, Roger,” Sergi agrees, using his hand on my back to guide me to another man, who he introduces as the current Police Commissioner.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” I say as he takes my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles. His moustache tickles and he leaves a damp spot on my skin that I want to wipe away, but he won’t let go.

“Is this one available?” he asks, his shit-brown eyes trailing over me like a slug, leaving a gross feeling across my skin.

“Afraid not, Bob.” Sergi chuckles, his hand wrapping around my waist and tugging me close to his side, forcing Bob to let go of my hand. My skin crawls with being so close to Sergi, and I swallow hard to try and stop the way my body wants to cringe away, even though right now it’s a case of better the devil you know.

Again, fingers brush mine, and I glance to the side to find Nik standing as close as he has all night, acting like a bodyguard but not so obvious as to make Sergi suspicious.

“Shame, but I suppose there are lots to choose from. You do throw the best parties in London, Petrov,” Bob replies, taking a glass of whiskey that a server brings him. “We do need to talk a little business, I’m afraid.”

Sergi smiles, giving my waist a squeeze before releasing me. “Of course, shall we head to my office? Nik, stay by her side.”

Sergi strides off, Bob—the Police fucking Commissioner—walking at his side.

“Let’s get you something to eat, Solnishko,” Nik utters, his hand at the base of my spine, giving me a light caress over the spot that Sergi no doubt bruised earlier.

He leads me through the party, nodding and greeting various men as we pass, then takes me to a table laden with food that I’d missed, waving away the staff that offers to fill our plates. Taking a plate, he places a sample from most of the dishes until the plate is full, and with his hand on my lower back, leads me to one of the small tables in an alcove away from the main throng.

“Thank you,” I whisper as he sits me down, sliding in next to me so he’s blocking me in, Dima and Andrei, who I’d not noticed until now, taking up stations on either side of the alcove. A server comes over with a glass of amber liquid for him and a tall glass of water for me, setting them on the marble tabletop before leaving.

“Eat,” he orders, and my lips twitch at the note of command in his tone.

“Yes, Sir,” I reply, watching as his nostrils flare.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I reach for some kind of small pastry, watching as I bite into it, the tart flavour of feta cheese and herbs washing over my tongue. My cheeks heat at the hunger in his eyes as I lick the crumbs off my lips, a pleasurable shiver racing across my skin. I may not be ready to have sex with Nik, or anyone, but that doesn’t mean that my body and mind don’t crave his worshipping touch.

We sit there for what feels like a long time, the party growing more raucous around us. I swear I can hear people fucking, and I saw who I’m pretty sure was an MP forcing his dick down a girl’s throat earlier when I looked up from my meal. It was enough to sour my appetite, making the food I’d already eaten swirl in my stomach.

Nik was right, it feels like anyone important in the world is here and that terrifies me. Although, many men came over to talk to Nik, and I watched as he charmed them, convincing them that he is someone of note. I mean, he is the heir to this corrupt empire, but it was more than that. I saw more than one man look at him with respect, shake his hand, and arrange future meetings. Many of those who visited our alcove didn’t appear to be taking part in the debauchery that surrounds us, and it makes me wonder how many are on Nik’s side? How many of these men would be happy with Nik taking over, might help him to eradicate Sergi?

Before I can ask him, Sergi is at our table, looking down at me with lust shining in his eyes.

“Time for bed, Kukolka,” he states, holding out his hand, and Nik stands, helping me to my feet even as his nostrils flare, the tightness around his eyes telling me he hates this as much as I do.

“I’ll see you later, Dorogaia,” he whispers as I pass by him, his fingers brushing mine, the only comfort he can give me.

“Nikolai, make sure the guests are well cared for,” Sergi orders, and Nik nods as his father leads me away, towards the room where my worst nightmares live.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I DON’T WANNA LIVE FOREVER (FIFTY SHADES DARKER)” BY ZAYA, TAYLOR SWIFT

IRIS

The day of the poker game dawns, and as usual, I have breakfast with Sergi and Nik before heading back upstairs to get ready for my daily walk with Nik. There’s a fluttery, empty feeling in my stomach, despite the fact I just ate. I can’t deny that excitement runs through me at the possibility of leaving the estate, even if it’s to be shown off to greedy men who may be worse than Sergi. Nik will be there, so I won’t be alone.

Dima is waiting as I open the door, and like usual, he walks behind me as I descend the stairs and make my way outside. My heart gives a jolt at the sight of Nik, his dark grey shirt open at the neck and rolled at the sleeves, showcasing his ink. The other night, he confessed that he got some done while serving time in prison back in Russia and that many relate to specific crimes that he committed, that they’re like badges of honour, to be earned and garner respect. He wouldn’t tell me what those crimes were and I didn’t push because I want to live in the here and now, not the past.

“You look beautiful, Kotenok,” he whispers as I come up alongside him.

I glance down at my navy pantsuit and wrinkle my nose as we start walking. “It’s not what I would choose.” The bright day dims as the sun disappears behind a cloud, Nik’s fingers brushing my own as we stroll through the gardens towards the woodland.

“I know, Dorogaia.” He sighs, the shade of the trees surrounding us in their peaceful embrace as we enter the woods. His fingers tangle with mine, the warmth of his hand seeping into me and lending me strength. “But you’d look stunning in anything...or nothing.”

My cheeks flush, remembering the way he made me cry out his name last night, his tongue buried deep inside me. It may seem strange, but his visits after Sergi really do help me to at least push the trauma to one side. They allow me to focus on him and go some way to replace his father’s unwanted touch with his gentle one.

We walk for a few moments in silence, Nik leading us deeper into the woods than we’ve gone before, Dima and Andrei behind us. Then Nik pulls me up short, turning to face me, his eyes tracing all over my face.

“I have a surprise for you, Malyshka,” he tells me, his voice soft as he uses his other hand to reach into his pocket.

My brows furrow as he pulls out a phone, then swipes over the screen, the sound of a FaceTime call jarring against the noise of the forest.

“Hunter Anderson,” Hunter’s deep voice answers, and my breath stills inside my chest, my eyes burning as Nik turns the phone so I’m looking at the screen.

“Hunt?” The word is a whispered sob as I drink him in. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, which are a little bloodshot, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well.

His lowered brows rise, his eyes widening as he takes in my face.

“Fuck, Peaches,” he chokes out while mapping my face as he looks at me, assessing. “Shit, you’re a sight for sore eyes, baby.”

Hot tears drip down my cheeks, my body trembling as I just stare at him.

“Who’s that?” Roman asks, coming into shot behind Hunt, who looks like he’s sitting at his desk in the flat. I almost laugh as Roman’s eyes bulge and he practically pushes Hunter aside, grabbing the phone. “Princess, fuck, is that really you?”

“Hi, Ro,” I murmur, noticing how tired he looks too.

“Rowan!” he yells, never taking his eyes from me, Hunt off to one side, his own eyes fixed on my face.

“What?” Rowan rushes into view, stopping the moment he registers it’s me. “Lamb.” There is a multitude of feeling in that one word. Pain, longing, and heartache all mixed in with a hope that I dared not feel until this moment.

“Hey, Roo. How are you?” I ask, my years of finishing school training kicking in and forcing the politeness from me.

“Shit, never mind how we are,” Hunt interrupts, taking the phone and placing it somewhere so I can see all three of them. “How are you?”

I swallow, nausea swirling in my stomach, and I glance away from them, up at Nik to see his jaw tight, his hand trembling slightly where he holds the phone.

“Princess?” Roman prompts, and I look back down, licking my suddenly dry lips.

“I’ve been better,” I tell them, not ready to go into the sordid details of Sergi’s nightly visits and his control of what I eat, wear, and do. “I’m good now though, and Nik is here.”

“Why the fuck hasn’t he gotten you out then?” Hunt growls, and my gaze flicks to Nik’s, his jaw clenched so tightly now I’m worried he’ll crack a tooth.

“It’s not that simple,” Nik grits out, moving so he’s on the screen behind me. “My father is too powerful, the influence he has is too strong, and he’d just do what he did before and take her away again.”

All three of my Shadows growl, their nostrils flaring as they adjust to the reality I’ve been living since Nik came back.

“We just have to wait,” I tell them, the words tasting bitter in my mouth, because waiting is more attention from Sergi, and the longer it goes on, the more I worry that I’ll never be clean again. “He’s taking me to a poker game tonight. Sergi is, I mean.”

“We’re going too, Princess,” Rowan tells me, and the rush of lightness that fills me leaves my muscles weak. It’s quickly followed by nausea once more though, knowing that they’ll have to see me on Sergi’s arm and none of us can do a thing about it.

“How did you get an invite?” Nik asks, and I can feel the tension that thrums through him behind me. I lean back into him and his free arm wraps around me, pulling me closer.

“Lucifer invited us,” Hunter says, and I frown, not knowing who he’s talking about. Nik clearly does, a breath puffing out of him.

“I wonder what their game is?” he muses, and the guys look pensive too.

“Who’s game? Who is Lucifer?” I question, wanting to know why they all seem a little on edge.

“He’s the leader of the Fallen, Malyshka,” Nik answers, and I glance over my shoulder at him.

“Who are?”

He smiles. “I forget you are not of this world like us. The Fallen are a branch of the Enlightened, a society that is shrouded in mystery but has incredible power.”

A shiver runs down my spine, a sense of something foreboding making me lean more into Nik as I turn back to look at my Shadows.

“And you know them?”

“Not exactly,” Roman answers. “Turns out one of our Irish cousins is one of the Fallen, Azazel to be precise.”

“That is a good connection to have,” Nik states, and he sounds impressed, but also like he’s trying to work out how we can use that to our advantage. “What did you do to earn an invitation? My father has been working on them for months just to get an in.”

“We’ll owe them a favour, no doubt,” Hunt answers, and Nik stiffens.

“You know they could ask for anything?” My eyes narrow, that forbidding turning into razor-tipped butterflies that swarm inside me.

“There was a dried iris in the envelope. It will be worth it, whatever it is,” Hunt replies, and my eyes widen.

“How did they know I’d be there? And that would be something you’d want?” I ask, my tone hushed like these mysterious guys might be listening right now.

“They deal in favours, Solnishko. They gather information, there is nothing they can’t find out. Just like some of the other branches of the Enlightened deal in weapons, the sex trade, and money laundering.”

“So, we want them as our friends?”

“Yes,” they all answer, and I’d laugh if it wasn’t such a crazy situation. It’s like ultimate conspiracy theory territory.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later on at the poker game?” I ask, getting back to the most important part for me.

“Yes, Lamb. We’ll all be there and we won’t leave without you, even if we have to kill every fucking Russian in the room,” Rowan states, and my heart thuds inside my chest even as horror leaves me feeling almost lightheaded. It’s far too dangerous because they’d have the whole Bratva on their tails for the rest of their lives.

“That would be a declaration of war,” Nik states, his voice grave. “Are you equipped for that?”

“Your comrades seem to think so,” Roo replies, and Nik freezes.

“You’ve been the one killing off my father’s men and leaving them for us to find?” He sounds more impressed than pissed. I guess he benefits from there being less men loyal to his father.

“I have.” There’s no regret, no shame in Rowan’s admission, and there’s something hella romantic about a man committing mass murder to avenge you. Or maybe that’s just me. “And I’ll keep doing it for as long as it takes to eradicate them.”

That shouldn’t be hot, yet my body lights up like a fucking firework at the violence lacing his tone, at the vow he makes.

“But it’s a different thing entirely to declare war on the Bratva. My father may be the leader here, but there are countless others who would jump into his place and seek revenge. You’d be watching your backs for the rest of your life, Iris would be in danger wherever she goes, which is why we have to be smart about this and take it down from the inside out.” Nik’s arm is clenched tightly around me, and I know that this is just as hard for him. Unlike my Shadows, he knows what I’m going through night after night, and I know that he feels helpless because of his father’s position and the power he currently wields.

Rowan’s expression becomes pinched, his lips pressed into a white slash, then he sighs, gives a nod, and drops the subject.

“I fucking hate this,” Roman murmurs, and tears sting my eyes.

“Me too, Ro,” I whisper, trying to take a deep inhale and mostly failing. Nik places his lips against my head, pulling me even closer so not a breath of air is between us.

“We should go,” Nik says softly, and my heart feels like it’s dropped down onto the forest floor.

“I love you, Peaches,” Hunter tells me, and I’m unable to stop a hot tear from falling down my cheek. “And we will see you later, okay?”

I suck my lips between my teeth, nodding as I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. I can’t say anything even though I’m desperate to tell him that I love him too.

“You are stronger than you think, Lamb. One day, we will kill them all, and you can bathe in their blood as you slit every last one of their throats,” Rowan tells me, and a small huff of laughter leaves me.

He’s really embraced the darkness that no longer lurks under the surface. It’s out for all to see and I love him even more for it. For making me believe that I will get revenge and I will be the one to deliver the blows. That I don’t need anyone else to do it for me, and while I should probably be horrified at the thought of murder, fuck, mass murder at this point, I’m not. These weeks have changed me, morphed me into something that I never knew I could be.

“We’ll see you tonight, Princess. I love you so fucking much,” Roman says, and more tears fall down my cheeks. It’s like I’m a tap that just won’t switch off. Again, I dip my head, unable to utter a fucking word as my desolation threatens to drown me.

“See you later,” Nik states, then I shatter as the screen goes dark.

CHAPTER NINE

“MASQUERADE” BY EUPHORIA, BOLSHIEE

IRIS

Iswallow bile as I look over the outfit that is laid out on my bed for tonight. I’ve showered and done my hair and make-up as instructed; smoky eyes and tumbling waves. Reaching out, I stroke the gauzy black fabric, its silkiness at odds with the way it makes me cringe. Any other time, I’d relish wearing this beautiful garment for my Shadows and Nik, but not tonight. Tonight it will put me on show, allow all the other men present to see any part of me they desire. I’ll be utterly exposed, which no doubt was Sergi’s intention.

Heaving a sigh, I take hold of the garment and put it on, the whisper of black silk chiffon falling to my bare feet. Turning, I look at myself in the mirror and want to cry. I look beautiful, sexy, and under other circumstances, I’d feel like a goddess. The translucent fabric falls in soft waves from under my bust to kiss the floor, giving teasing glimpses of my thighs and my sex. My nipples are entirely visible through the fabric that barely covers my breasts and thin straps sit on my shoulders, almost hidden by my hair.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reach for the jet-black Louboutin peep toe stilettos, their red soles adding a splash of colour to my monochrome outfit. In another life, these shoes would have maybe excited me, the brand one that the girls at Wyndham’s Finishing School for Young Ladies coveted. Now though, I decide that if—when—I do get out of this, I’m never wearing anything black again, even if the shoes cost thousands.

My door opens just as I’m getting to my feet, my eyes widening to see Sergi striding in, his eyes raking over me and burning a path across my skin that leaves me feeling even more nauseated.

“You look perfect, Kukolka,” he purrs, and I want to throw up as his fingers reach out and trail down the side of my breast. A shudder of revulsion runs over my body now each time Sergi calls me it. “Just need your jewellery.”

My lip trembles as he brings out from behind his back the collar he put on me the night he took me from my Shadows. The lead is attached, and with the hand that just stroked my breast, he twirls his finger, telling me to turn around.

Taking a deep inhale, I do as instructed, sweeping my hair to one side.

“Such a perfect Kukolka.” Sergi’s breath against the back of my neck leaves goosebumps pebbling all over my skin, and not the good kind. No, these are the kind that warn you of a predator about to strike.

My breathing turns shallow as he wraps the leather around my throat, tightening the buckle just a little too much so I feel it every time I swallow or take a breath. Always such a control freak. The tinkling of the lead against the collar has me fighting a shiver. I know that sound will haunt me for the rest of my life.

He doesn’t say anything else, just tugs the lead, and I follow in his footsteps as he leads me out of my room towards the front of the mansion. He doesn’t adjust his pace, forcing me to wobble on heels I’m not used to yet as we make our way down the stairs. Nik is at the bottom, Andrei and Dima either side of him, and the rage that fills his eyes is enough to set the house on fire.

I look away, unable to hold his gaze, my cheeks heating with shame as my shoulders hunch. There’s a thickness in my throat that won’t go away, no matter how much I try to swallow, which this fucking collar prevents anyway. Dark spots start to dot my vision, and I just can’t get enough air into my screaming lungs.

Sergi doesn’t stop, just pulls me along behind him, and as we pass Nik, a brush of his fingertips against my own is enough to have my shallow breaths deepening a little. Once we step outside, the cool night air also helps to ground me, stopping a panic attack from overtaking me. I can feel warmth at my back, the scent of juniper, black pepper, and vetiver telling me it’s Nik behind me.

There’s a limo waiting in the driveway, and Sergi tugs me after him, placing me next to him. Nik and his two men enter afterwards, all three of them taking the bench seat opposite us. Then Nik reaches over, grabbing two of the already filled champagne flutes that are on a sort of minibar at the end.

“Father,” Nik states, handing Sergi one flute, then holding out the other for me. “Iris.”

I take it, our fingers brushing and sending electricity racing across my skin.

“Thank you,” I whisper, sipping the cool liquid and letting the bubbles tickle my throat.

Sergi starts up a conversation in Russian, completely dismissing me as he often does when we’re with anyone else. I’m grateful, because having his full attention never works out well for me. I sit there, sipping my champagne and thinking about what it will be like to see the Shadows again. Will they notice some of the bruises that decorate my skin? Will they be as pissed as Nik clearly was to see Sergi’s collar on me? My stomach swirls the longer we drive, regretting the alcohol as worry plagues my mind. This is going to be a challenge, and the worst part will be having to go back with Sergi, knowing what awaits when we get back to the mansion.

The limo, which wasn’t exactly going very fast due to London traffic, pulls up in front of a townhouse. There’s nothing particularly identifying about it, just the usual white stone and black metal railings. There is a liveried doorman in front of the large painted door, the only sign that this might not just be a normal house.

A blast of fresh air hits me as the door to the limo is opened, Dima getting out, then Nik, Andrei, and finally Sergi who tugs on my lead so I’m forced to follow. I shiver as the night air wraps its chilly embrace around me, feeling Nik’s warmth close to me a second later as if he knew I was cold.

Sergi doesn’t wait, one of his men leading the way up the stone steps, the doorman opening the door to give us entry. More warmth surrounds me when I step inside the house and find a beautifully lit entrance hall, chequered tiles on the floor, and some kind of patterned black silk lining the walls.

“Good evening, Mr. Petrov and Mr. Petrov,” a feminine voice greets, and I look beyond Sergi to see a stunning redhead dressed in an evening gown. “We just need to check for weapons as a precaution.” A huge man steps forward, running a wand over all the guys, nodding when nothing happens. “Excellent. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you upstairs.”

Sergi doesn’t even bother greeting her or acknowledging her at all, and clearly Nik follows suit because we walk behind the woman, no one saying a word. My pulse is fast, a sense of breathlessness overcoming me as we walk up the carpeted stairs to the next floor. More doors are opened for us, and I blink as we step into a brighter space, though still tastefully lit, the scent of cigar smoke cloying and making my eyes water a little.

We are led to a table in the centre, some of the seats already taken, and my heart damn near stops when I lock gazes with bright emerald eyes.

“THROUGH THE FIRE” BY EUPHORIA, BOLSHIEE

HUNTER

It’s like the entire world stops spinning when I look into her wide hazel eyes, longing ripping through me with enough force to stop the breath in my lungs. She looks so fucking gorgeous, the brief glimpse of her translucent dress instantly hardening my cock in my tux trousers as a mixture of rage and lust war within me. I hate that anyone else is seeing her like this, knowing that she probably had very little choice in what she wore tonight adding to my anger.

Rowan’s deep growl draws my gaze to her slender neck where that fucking collar sits, a ring of bruises just under it that has red flashing across my vision for a moment. Taking a deep inhale through my nose, I spot the silver lead that’s attached to it, the other end wrapped around Sergi’s fist. My lip curls as I meet his shit-brown gaze, his lips pulled up in a smug smile even as his nostrils flare.

“What are these Ubludoks doing here?” he spits, and Lucifer stills, who is also at our table, menace radiating from his masked face.

“Are you questioning who I am allowed to invite to my game, Sergi Petrov?” he questions, his voice sending forbidding shivers down my spine. I’m not scared of many people, but Lucifer and the rest of the Fallen make my hackles rise the way they would when you look up to find three tigers staring back at you, waiting to pounce.

“Of course not, Lucifer,” Sergi replies in a measured tone, taking a seat but keeping ahold of that fucking lead. I’m glad we weren’t allowed to bring weapons, because I’m pretty sure Rowan would have launched himself across the table and removed Sergi’s hand by now if he’d bought one of his knives.

“Excellent. Shall we begin?” Lucifer suggests, nodding to the dealer who deals us our cards. The game is good old-fashioned Texas Hold ‘Em, something I’m pretty familiar playing as there wasn’t much else to do growing up but gamble with shit like dares with the twins. We didn’t have any money, so had to be inventive. It’s how Roman got me to give him our first kiss, the sneaky bastard.

Refocusing back on the game, I place my bet. Luckily we’re rich motherfuckers now, so we brought almost everything we had spare in the hopes that it might somehow get Iris back.

The game goes on for hours, waiting staff bringing us drinks and snacks as we keep playing. I’m winning as much as I’m losing, but Sergi seems to be losing more and more as time goes on, his fist wrapped around that fucking lead clenching tighter and tighter with each round we play. Iris’s gaze is fixed on us, and I feel the burn of it each time she looks at me, seeing the desperation in her hazel eyes gutting me every time.

“Are you still in the game, Petrov?” Lucifer asks some time later, and I look away from Iris to find Sergi’s brows beaded with sweat.

“I’ll have to write an IOU, but you know I’m good for it, Lucifer,” Sergi says, and my heart pounds inside my chest. One of the rules of tonight was no IOUs, it’s why we brought so much fucking money. You can only play with what you have tonight.

Lucifer sighs. “That’s not allowed, I’m afraid. You can only play with what you bring.” He pauses, his dark eyes seeming to gleam in the ambient lighting. “Of course, you could always bet your pretty pet. She’d keep you in the game.”

The look he gives Iris is enough to have my jaw clenching so hard that pain shoots up and down my neck. The twins give a growl behind me, but I keep my gaze locked on Sergi, who looks pissed but is also taking in Lucifer’s interest in Iris. My palms start to sweat, a fluttery, empty feeling filling my stomach as Sergi’s expression turns pinched, his lips pressing into a white slash.

“Fine, for tonight only then,” he states, and Lucifer tuts.

“We play for keeps, Petrov. You know the rules. You could always bow out if she’s worth more to you than the game.” His stare is laser-focused on Sergi and we all hear his unspoken words. If Sergi bows out, he’s telling everyone that Iris is a weakness for him and worth more than a potential alliance with the Fallen, which is something he can’t afford to do in his position as head of the Russian Bratva. He may have power, a shit ton of it, but the Fallen have more.

Sergi shifts in his seat, and I can’t tear my eyes away to look at Iris, needing to see what he does next. Then his lips tip up in a smile that is more a baring of teeth than anything else.

“Of course not, Lucifer,” he states, unwinding the lead from his fist and placing the end on the table among the chips. “Shall we continue?”

The smile Lucifer gives him sends a bolt of terror running up my spine. It’s the grin of someone who’s already won and knows there is nothing you can do to stop them. I chance a glance at Iris, catching the brush of fingers against hers, Nik shifting closer to her. Her hands tremble at her sides, her eyes filling with tears as she looks at the middle of the table, and I fucking loathe that she’s being traded like this. Like she’s no more than something to be passed around.

“Hunter?” Lucifer’s deep voice breaks me from my anger on my Peach’s behalf.

“Apologies,” I rumble out, placing my bet before we continue the game.

What feels like scant moments later, I’m throwing my cards down, having lost that round, probably because I’m so damn distracted with Iris on the line.

“Sergi?” Lucifer asks, his body languid in his chair, his tone light as if this were no more important than any other game. Fuck him.

With a small grin, Sergi lays out his cards. Fuck.

“Looks like I’m keeping my pet after all,” he states, reaching out to grab the lead, but Lucifer’s hand darts out, halting Sergi’s before he can grasp it.

“Not so soon, Petrov.” My eyes widen when he lays down his cards. Sergi curses in Russian, but all I can focus on is Iris and the way her face turns ashen. She swallows hard as Lucifer takes the lead and stands. “We’re done for the night, wouldn’t you say so, Hunter?”

I snap my attention to him, my brain taking a moment to compute what he’s saying.

“Yes,” I agree, getting up and watching as Lucifer walks towards Iris. My jaw clenches when he leans down and whispers something in her ear that has her eyes darting to mine, her lips parted. What the fuck did he just say?

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Petrov.” He gives Sergi a nod, who just sits there, his fists clenched and his nostrils flared. I glance up at Nikolai, who looks ready to declare war on the Fallen, his stare fixed on the lead that is now in Lucifer’s hand. “Walk with me, Hunter,” Lucifer commands, and although it grates, I come around the table and stand on his other side, the twins at my back. I catch Nikolai’s burning stare and shake my head, telling him to leave it for now. His jaw works back and forth, but he gives me a slight nod, then turns to face the table where a couple of new people have sat down to play.

With Iris at his side, Lucifer leads us out of the room, through a door that’s off to the side of the one we entered. My skin prickles as we enter a quiet room, dimly lit, and find the other two Fallen including the twin’s cousin waiting for us.

“Some of our Enlightened brethren may disagree, but the Fallen do not condone slavery of any kind,” Lucifer states, walking behind Iris and pushing her hair to one side. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner, Iris.”

Her wide eyes find mine, the sounds of the buckle being undone loud in the silence of the room. Then I watch as the collar falls off her neck, clinking sharply as it hits the floor.

“No favour required for this one,” Azazel informs us, the Irish lilt of his voice washing over me as my chest heaves. Is this really happening? Are they just going to give Iris back to us?

“You’re free, Iris,” Lucifer tells her, stepping away and tucking his hands into his suit trousers. “I suggest you all use the back stairs, through that door.”

Iris hesitates for a fraction of a second, then with a sob, she launches herself at me, and it takes all the strength I possess not to fall to my knees as relief leaves me lightheaded when my arms close around her shuddering body.

“T–thank you, Lucifer,” I rasp, looking away from the woman in my arms to find his dark eyes watching. The masks are eerie as fuck, there’s something about not being able to see their faces that leaves me on edge. “The Shadows are yours to command when you have need.”

He gives me a nod, then turns on his heel and strides back to the door towards the main room. The light and sounds of the game beyond wash over us as all three men leave without another word.

“C–can we go home, Hunt?” Iris’s broken voice cracks my soul in two, and I look down, my own eyes burning when I see her tear-streaked face.

“Yes, Peaches. Let’s take you home.”

CHAPTER TEN

“BRUISES” BY LEWIS CAPALDI

IRIS

It feels like a dream, like it’s not quite real as we make our way down some back stairs and out into the night. I’m surrounded by Hunt’s mint and rosemary scent, his tux jacket covering me, his arms wrapped tightly around me and lending me his warmth.

There’s a car waiting at the end of the alleyway we emerge from, the same driver with the scarred face behind the wheel. It should feel comforting in the familiarity, but it’s just a reminder that nothing has changed apart from me.

“I’m in the back with Iris,” Hunt declares, pulling the door open and ushering me inside. Before I can scoot over fully, the other door opens and Roman steps into the car, settling on the other seat so that I’m sandwiched between them both. It’s almost too much after yearning for them for so long, but the ache between my thighs reminds me I’m not the same girl I was when I saw them last.

“Fuck, Princess,” Roman rasps, his shaking hand coming up to cup my face as we start to drive off, Rowan in the front passenger seat. “Fuck.”

He places his forehead against mine, his voice thick and his hand trembling as he just holds me against him, breathing me in. I do the same, taking in deep inhales of his scent, wishing it could erase the past few weeks. My stomach is in knots knowing that nothing can change what has happened. Hunt has a tight grip on my hand, his thumb caressing back and forth over my skin, and the touch is so gentle, so reverent, that tears spill down my cheeks.

“I missed you all…so much,” I whisper, my free hand coming up and resting against Roman’s chest. His heart pounds so hard I can feel it, and it’s almost in time with my own, our bodies trying to be in sync again.

“We will never let him have you again, Princess. I fucking swear it,” Roman vows, pressing his quivering lips against mine, and I freeze.

I want to kiss him back, but all I can feel is his lips, his tongue trying to push into my mouth as he forces himself on me once again. With a gasp, I pull back, my breathing fast and my heart breaking at the confusion in Roman’s blue eyes.

“I–I’m s–sorry,” I stutter out, my shoulders rounding as I hunch into myself. “I can’t—” How can I tell them everything that Sergi did to me? How can I confess that he broke me so thoroughly that all I can feel is him when they touch me like that?

“Hey, Peaches, look at me,” Hunt orders, and I twist my face to look at him. “It’s okay. No one expects anything from you, okay?” I nod, unable to utter another word as the lump grows in my throat. “Good girl. Let’s get you home and settled, that’s all we need to focus on for now.”

I sink back into the seat, my eyelids closing as I take several deep, shuddering breaths. Warmth around my palm has my eyes opening, and I look to the side to find Roman, holding my hand in both of his. His blue eyes are on me, his brows furrowed, but there’s no anger there, just concern.

“It’ll all be okay, Princess. You’re home now.”

I want to agree with him, want it so badly that it’s making my skin itch, but how can it ever be okay again? The walls I built around myself at the Petrov mansion and the cage that encases all the awful things that Sergi put me through, fractures. And I know it’s only a matter of time before they come tumbling down and I’ll be forced to face every nightmare I endured.

“IN THE SHADOWS” BY AMY STROUP

ROWAN

I watch Iris as we lead her back into the flat and notice that her hunched shoulders don’t relax as we shut and lock the door behind us. If anything, they get tighter.

“Would you like a bath?” I ask softly, but she still jumps and it guts something inside me to see her fear so close to the surface. Her head snaps to me, stealing the very breath from my lungs as her eyes lock with mine, pleading for something that I’m not sure we will be able to give her.

“Yes please, Roo,” she whispers, and just hearing her voice sends a shiver up my spine. Fuck, it feels unreal to have her back with us. Like the past few weeks were just a nightmare and I’ve woken up to find it wasn’t real, but the ghosts in her eyes tell me that every minute happened.

“I’ll make you something to eat, Peaches,” Hunt states, placing a kiss on her knuckles. We all freeze when she flinches from the light caress, and my soul aches with the knowledge of what would cause a reaction like that.

With a deep inhale, I head towards her bathroom and go through the motions of running her a bubble bath, putting in her favourite scents and oils, plus some epsom salts to help with healing. My chest is tight as I pour them in, dark memories trying to overtake me. The pain of being forced never goes away, and my ass twinges with the remembered ache of having my innocence stolen from me at the hands of a greedy man.

Once the bath is ready, I go back out to the kitchen to find Iris picking at a grilled cheese sandwich, Hunt and Roman looking at her with such pain in their gazes it’s hard to breathe.

“Bath’s ready, Lamb,” I tell her, and she looks up with a glassy stare, a glazed look that I fucking hate settling over her features. She moves off the stool, the guys standing up as well, but I hold my hand up, shaking my head at them. “I’ve got this,” I mouth, and Hunt’s jaw works back and forth, but one glance at Iris, who’s staring down at her empty hands, has him sighing and nodding back.

Gently, I reach out, waiting for her to place her hand in mine, knowing she needs that control to start the healing process. She blinks down at my outstretched palm, then after a moment, her small hand slides into mine, and it feels like I just won the London Marathon or some shit, warmth flushing throughout my body.

Slowly, I lead her towards her room, the soft glow of the lamps spilling out into the hallway. She stops before we cross the threshold, and I twist to look back at her. Her plush lower lip is tucked under her teeth and her glassy eyes are wide.

“What is it, Lamb?” I question, my brows dipping as I take in her shivering form.

“I can’t—” She stops, closing her eyes and taking in a breath. “I can’t go in like this, Roo.”

Her other hand twitches at her side, and I look at her, seeing the translucent dress and sky-high heels as if for the first time. It’s sexy as hell, but I bet that cunt Sergi chose it to show off his property. I swallow hard, trying to tamp the darkness that threatens to overspill and kill every Russian fucker I come across.

“Then let’s take it off here and I’ll get Roman to burn the clothes,” I tell her, and her lids snap open, her eyes beseeching me for my help.

I let go of her hand and dip down to reach into my boot, taking out the switchblade that I stashed in there before we left for the game. No way was I going in there unarmed. Straightening up, I flip the blade open, watching the small shiver that flows across her. With a touch that never has been gentle, I take one of the thin straps between my fingers, and using the blade, slice through it. I repeat the same on the other side, pausing when it exposes her breasts and the small bruises that litter her peachy skin.

There’s a pounding in my ears, my throat suddenly dry as I take in his fucking marks on my woman. I will take every last drop of Sergi Petrov’s blood in the most agonising way possible for daring to touch what didn’t belong to him.

With that comforting thought, I make quick work of cutting the dress from her body, noting each new mark and bruise that I come across. It’s the ones around her thighs, near her pussy that have my vision clouding, and it takes strength I didn’t know I possessed to close the blade and slide it back into my boot.

Getting to my knees, I place her hands on my shoulders and reach for her foot, slipping her heeled shoe off. Under other circumstances, I’d love these shoes, want to feel them digging into me as I worship her, but I know I’ll hate this brand forever now.

I get to my feet, watching the way her chest rises and falls, a flush colouring her skin. My eyes come back to lock on hers as I toe off my boots, holding her stare. I took my tux jacket off the moment we walked in, and rolled my sleeves up when running the bath, so I hold my hand out to her once again.

“Better?”

She swallows, the elegant column of her throat moving, the purple of his fingerprints stark against her pale skin. I think I’ll pull off his fingernails first, then cut each finger off at each knuckle joint until they are useless stumps.

“Yes,” she murmurs, and it takes me a moment to remember what I’d asked her. Her hand slides into mine and I take her through her room and into the bathroom, candles dotting the surfaces and the lights dimmed.

I take her over to the bath, helping her get into it, the silence thick between us. She lies down, a small contented sigh slipping from her lips, then I sit on the low stool we have in here. We got it so we could wash her when she had baths before, never imagining we’d use it to help soothe her hurts.

She lies there, not moving and staring off into the distance.

“We were seven when we ended up with the Jones’s,” I start, my skin flushing hot and then cold as I recall my darkest memories. “They lived in the burbs, lots of houses that all looked the same with large gardens and lots of room to play.” I remember how excited we were to be around so much green. I glance over at her, and her hands are moving through the water, her gaze following them. “It seemed like we’d landed in heaven, lots of toys and space to play, a hot meal each night, and we even had separate rooms.” I huff a deprecating laugh, staring down at my hands, my inked-up fingers clenching. “It only took a week for me to learn that sometimes monsters hide in the daylight.” A wet hand covered in bubbles takes one of mine, and I look down to find hazel eyes full of pain staring back at me. “He told me that if I was a good boy and did everything he said, Roman and I could stay there and have everything we’d ever wanted. That it would be our secret and I’d be helping my brother have a good life.”

I watch as the tears well in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as the phantom feel of hands holding me down steals my breath for a moment.

“H–how long were you with them for?” she asks softly, her voice as broken as I feel inside.

“Three years,” I grit out. “Until Roman found him in my bed one night when we were ten and hit him over the head with a lamp.” My cheeks flush as I remember his horror, seeing the tears along my cheeks as Dave Jones abused my child’s body and the blood that spilled over me as Roman cracked the man’s skull like a nut. It was beautiful, the warmest thing I’d ever felt.

“H–he came to my room every night,” she starts, and it’s my turn to grip her hand tightly in mine as she tells her truth. “At first he would have his men help h–hold me down, but soon he said he wanted me all to h–himself.” A choked sob has me moving before I’m thinking, stepping into the large tub, still in my suit trousers and shirt but not giving a fuck, just needing to hold her.

Her arms wrap around me, her head buried in my neck as sobs wrack her body.

“It’ll get better. It might not feel like it right now, Lamb, but I promise one day you’ll feel clean again,” I tell her, my own voice choked, knowing all too well the stain something like this leaves on your skin, on your very soul until you think that’s all you feel. Dirty and unworthy.

“It’s l–like I can still f–feel his touch. W–when Roman k–kissed me earlier…” she cries harder, and my own tears spill over, hating that I couldn’t stop this from happening to her.

“He understands, we all do,” I say softly, movement by the door, having me looking up to find both Hunter and my brother standing there, tears tracing paths down their cheeks. I don’t know how long they have been standing there, but it’s been long enough to catch some of her story if the way their hands are clenched into fists are any indication. “We will all help to wash his touch from you, however long it takes, love.” The endearment slips out but feels so fucking right as I pull her closer to me, holding her as she breaks down in my arms.

It’s all I can do, knowing all too well that some wounds need time and care to heal. She needs to see that we love her regardless of what happened to her. That we are here for her and will take care of her in every way she needs. That we will spend the rest of our lives making up for our failure to protect her and building her back up into our Queen of Shadows.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“HURTS LIKE HELL” BY FLEURIE, TOMMEE PROFFITT

IRIS

After we get out of the bath, Rowan dries me off while Hunt and Roman watch, their gazes searing into me. I hate this feeling, that I’m lost in my own skin and don’t know how to find my way back to them.

“Things will look better in the morning, Princess. They always do,” Roman tells me, reaching out for my hand but pausing just before he grabs it. He waits, just like Rowan did, and my eyes sting with appreciation, even if I wish we could go back to how it was between us before.

“I hope so,” I murmur, taking his hand and relishing the warmth that encases my palm and travels up my arm. A heaviness settles over my limbs, my body suddenly so bone weary I sway on my feet from exhaustion.

“Let’s get you to bed, Peaches,” Hunter states, his deep voice both a comfort and a reminder of all that I’ve lost. I hope Roman is right, that with the rising of the sun, I’ll be able to reclaim my life before Sergi took me.

Roman leads me over to the bed, pulling back the covers and helping me into it.

“Do you want us to join you, or would you rather sleep alone?” he asks, his voice a little hesitant, and I fucking hate it.

“Stay, please,” I reply as I snuggle into the bed, the familiar scents calming me a little.

“Thank fuck,” he rasps, quickly shedding his shirt and trousers before climbing in beside me. “Can I hold you, Princess? Please?”

“Oh, R–Roman—” My voice breaks on a sob, tears flooding my vision as his strong arms pull me against his hot body. He curls around me, the bed dipping behind me as Rowan’s scent engulfs me, his warmth radiating down my back as his arms encircle me.

“It’ll be okay, love,” Rowan whispers in my ear, and the term of endearment just makes me cry harder as I cling to Roman, wishing I didn’t feel so fucking broken.

They hold me while I break, while I cry for the girl who several weeks ago knew nothing about how monstrous the world could be. Soon, my sobs subside and my closed lids feel so heavy I don’t even try to open them.

“H–Hunt?” I whisper, my heart thudding with the thought that he might not be here with us.

“I’m here, Peaches,” his gruff voice tells me, a large palm gliding down my hair.

“I need you here,” I say, knowing the words might not make sense but I’m too exhausted to explain. Luckily, he seems to understand because there’s some shuffling, then his body is underneath mine, his chest underneath my cheek. His heart pounding in my ear in a reassuring beat that soothes my fractured soul.

Hands reach out to touch me, the twins keeping our connection, and it’s enough to allow the darkness to swallow me, my body cocooned in the warmth of the men who love me despite my wounds.

The next couple of weeks pass by in a fog. It’s like I’m living underwater, experiencing everything through a film of dullness that I can’t seem to shift. I barely eat, Hunter making all sorts of dishes for me to try, but nothing can encourage my appetite. I often feel too nauseous to swallow more than a mouthful, and I catch each of their concerned glances as I push plate after plate away.

Despite the fact that my Shadows stay in my bed, my nights are full of nightmares, my body waiting for the nightly assault it had to undergo for weeks at Sergi’s hands. It’s like it doesn’t get the memo that we’re safe. I become so jumpy that I know the guys tiptoe around me, scared to make any sudden noises or move for fear of my trauma rearing its ugly head and turning me into a gibbering wreck, which has happened several times.

My skin is raw with the amount of times I’ve washed, yet I still feel dirty almost as soon as I’ve stepped from beneath the shower spray. I’ve made myself bleed more than once from scrubbing it so hard, and I broke down when Hunter took away my loofah. How am I meant to get clean without it?

I know it’s not normal, the need to clean myself so often and so viciously. The anxiety I feel on a daily basis, the nightmares and lethargy. I see the way the guys look at me, worry furrowing their brows, their touches hesitant because no one knows what will trigger one of the many panic attacks I’ve had since returning.

One night, we’re sitting in the living room, Rowan’s phone in my hands as the TV plays some show quietly in the background. I’ve been researching recently, having come to the conclusion that I can’t live like this. I won’t let Sergi steal my life away, and that means I need help. Outside help.

I’ve found a place out in the countryside, a beautiful facility that looks perfect, but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with the guys. How can I tell them that I need to go away to heal? That I need to be away from them when they’ve only just got me back?

The sound of Hunt’s phone vibrating next to me makes me jump out of my skin, my heart pounding in my ears as he pulls it from his pocket and up to his ear.

“Kai? What’s up?” Hunt’s deep voice goes some way to settle my nerves, but then he’s sitting up, cursing, and my chest tightens. “Shit, yeah we can look into it for you. Send over the details.” He runs his fingers through his hair, cursing again.

“What’s wrong? Who’s Kai?” I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut telling me this is serious.

“Kai Matthews,” Hunt replies, looking over at Roman and then Rowan, who are sitting across from us on the L-shaped sofa. “Lilly’s been taken and they think her uncle has her in Wiltshire. She’s pregnant too.”

“Fuck,” Roman hisses as my stomach swoops. I hate that there’s a small amount of relief mixed in with the horror, a part of me glad it’s nothing to do with Sergi. Hunter’s phone vibrates again with an incoming message and he glances down, his brows etched.

“The location of his estate,” he tells us. “They’ve asked if we can take a look, maybe try and get in somehow to see if she’s there.” His gaze flits to me and his jaw works. “I can send some of the guys to⁠—”

“No.” My voice is firm and louder than it’s been in the past couple of weeks. “You need to go. I won’t let Lilly suffer a moment longer if we can help.” A lump forms in my throat at the thought of what she might be going through, what might be happening to her. I may not know her, but she’s Willow’s bestie, and I can’t stand the idea of another woman being at the mercy of a man who has stolen her, just like Sergi did to me. I sit up straighter, grasping Hunter’s arm, which is warm and flexes under my touch. “Please, Hunt. It has to be you, you’re the best.”

He swallows, his gaze boring into mine. “I won’t leave you alone.”

“Rowan can stay,” I quickly state, my free hand clutching the phone as a plan forms in my mind and a sense of calm fills my body. For the first time since that awful night when Sergi took me from my Shadows, I feel in control. “Can’t you, Roo?”

“Sure,” he answers, and his eyes narrow slightly, making my pulse race. He’s suspicious, so I’ll have to tread carefully. “I’ll stay with Lamb and you two check it out, see what you can find.”

“Fine,” Hunt relents before turning back to me. “But you stay in the flat, okay? And we will be back tomorrow night.”

“Okay, Hunt.” My chest twinges at the lie I just told. If my plan works and I can convince Rowan to take me, I’ll be heading to Serene Haven first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“THIS WOMEN’S WORK” BY KATE BUSH

IRIS

As soon as the others leave, Rowan comes over and sits next to me.

“Show me.” The two words are said as a demand, but a gentle one, and my heart races as I hand over his phone. His brows furrow as he looks at the screen, his eyes racing from side to side as he reads about Serene Haven. Then his throat bobs before he looks up at me, his amber eyes swirling with emotion. “Hunt’s not going to like it, you being so far away and unprotected.”

“I need this, Roo,” I tell him, taking in an inhale and watching his own chest rise and fall.

“I know, Lamb.” He places the phone down on the coffee table in front of us, running his fingers through his long blond hair. I love it when he leaves it down, and my fingers itch to follow his, to feel the soft, silky strands between them. “Fuck, he’s going to kill me, you know that right?”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll take me?” I ask, my breath bottling up in my chest as I wait for his answer.

The angles of his face soften, his fingers reaching out and brushing my cheek. “Lamb, I would do anything for you. I’d do everything for you, including facing Hunter’s wrath. If this is what you need, if being away from here and someplace you can heal, then that’s what we’ll do. Hunt will come around.”

“Thank you, Roo,” I whisper, my voice thick with the lump in my throat, and my fingers reach out to tangle with his, giving them a squeeze.

“No need to thank me, Lamb,” he tells me, setting down his phone and reaching for the laptop he was on before Hunt’s phone call from Kai. “You best go pack while I hack into their systems and check out their security.”

“Rowan!” I admonish, though I can’t deny that his words also give me the warm and fuzzies.

“No arguments, Lamb. We need to make sure Sergi can’t pull any shit, and it’s the only way I’ll convince Hunt. That and I’m sure he’ll want to place some guys on security detail.” At my raised brows he huffs a laugh. “Don’t worry, we’ll make a large donation to keep them sweet.”

He turns to his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and I huff out a breath before getting up and heading to my room to pack. I know this is the right decision, that I need to be somewhere with more specialist care, and Serene Haven specialises in caring for victims of sexual assaults. The thought makes my stomach churn, that I now have that label, which leaves my hands trembling as I grab the duffle bag that Nikolai gave me all that time ago.

But I won’t let that label define me. I refuse to give Sergi that power.

The morning is warm, the sun already up when we leave the World’s End Estate the next morning. Rowan is driving a stunning, vintage cherry red MG, and laughed when my eyes almost bugged out of my head. He told me that just because they usually keep more under the radar, doesn’t mean they aren’t boy racers at heart.

It made me laugh, and something loosened inside my chest as we sped away from the city, the early morning mining hardly any traffic to stop Rowan from definitely breaking a few speed limits just to show off.

The houses and buildings turn into hedges and fields, and soon we’re driving up a long, winding driveway lined with trees and surrounded by rolling lawns. I sit up in my seat and Rowan lowers the window, the fresh air hitting my face as I take a great lungful.

“It smells like summer,” I muse, turning to look at Rowan. His lips pull up into a smile that steals my breath for a moment, the perfumed air swirling around us.

“It’s already brought some light back into your eyes, Lamb,” he comments, turning back to face the road and pulling up in front of the large building.

It’s gorgeous, marble columns framing a double front door, which is open, big windows all facing the front, and there are roses growing up the front of the building, full of pink and yellow blooms. An older woman stands at the base of the stone steps, her face full of smiles and her grey eyes warm and welcoming.

Rowan cuts the engine, then takes my hand in his, drawing my attention away from the woman.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his honey amber eyes boring into mine.

“Yes,” I answer, feeling a sense of rightness inside my chest, a moment of lightness that I thought I’d never feel again.

“Then let’s get you settled,” he replies, bringing my hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss on my knuckles before letting it go.

We open our doors, and Rowan comes around the front of the car, taking my hand in his once more. Then we make our way over to the woman, who’s wearing a lovely floral dress that floats in the warm breeze.

“Welcome, Iris. I’m Julia and I’ll be your main point of contact for your stay here and your therapist,” she tells me, and I nod, butterflies flying around in my stomach. “If you’d like to follow me, I can show you to your room. Rowan, you are more than welcome to come along too, and thank you for your generous donation.”

“Not at all, Julia. Are the security measures I suggested being put in place?” Rowan asks as Julia leads us into a bright and airy entrance hall.

“As we speak,” Julia affirms, and I don’t bother to ask what he suggested, trusting that he knows what’s best when it comes to my safety. “We understand the seriousness of the situation and want to assure you that all staff are thoroughly vetted, as are any visitors.”

“Thank you,” Rowan answers, placing a kiss on the top of my head as we make our way up a steep wooden staircase. “She’s the most precious thing we have, we won’t lose her again.”

I have to blink the moisture from my eyes, then choose to look around at all the old paintings, which line the walls, in a bid to chase them away. Julia chats to us about the facilities, the spa and gym area, plus all the exercise and art classes that are available, as she leads us down a wide corridor and stops outside a carved wooden door.

“And this is your room, Iris,” she states, unlocking the door and opening it, motioning for me to enter first. It’s beautiful, a light peachy pink colour painted on the walls, creams and different shades of peach for all the soft furnishings. I wonder if Rowan specifically requested them, given my nickname. “No one is allowed inside anyone else’s rooms without express permission, and each room is fitted with a panic alarm that will be answered day or night if you need anything or anyone.” She walks over to the wall and shows us what looks like an old-fashioned bell pull with a tassel on the end. “Just tug on this and help will arrive.”

“Okay,” I murmur, my breaths a little quick as nausea swirls inside my stomach. Rowan’s arm slips around my shoulders as he pulls me closer into his side.

“Sergi can’t get you here, love,” he tells me, brushing a kiss to my temple. “This place is now more locked down than the Estate, plus you know he won’t piss off the Fallen, who have made it clear that trying to take you back would earn him a place in their bad books.”

Julia doesn’t comment, just gives me a small, understanding smile. “You are safe here, I promise. Even more so since the donation and suggestions made by Rowan came through this morning.” The tightness eases in my chest at hers and Rowan’s reassurances. She walks over to another carved door. “This is your bathroom, each room has their own.”

We follow her, and I gasp at the luxurious fittings, the cream marble lined with rose gold giving a delicateness to the room.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, my eyes feeling as wide as saucers as I take in the space. A twinge tightens in my chest, thinking of all the times the guys have run me a bath. I know I’ll miss that and so much more, but this is what I need—time and space to heal.

“I’m so glad you like it, Iris.” She beams at me before leading us back out into my room. “I’ll leave you to get sorted. Rowan, stay as long as you need. We have a very flexible visitor policy for approved visitors, so you and Hunter and Roman can visit as often as Iris likes.” She heads over to the door, pausing and placing the key she used to open it on the side table, then turns back to me. “This is your key, and there’s a lock on the inside of the door. Only a select few have keys to the rooms, and Rowan has approved each person so he can tell you who they are. Your welcome pack here also has their names as well as a timetable and the times for meals. I’ll see you later, Iris. Pleasure to meet you, Rowan.”

With that, she quietly opens the door and walks out, closing it softly behind her. I turn in Rowan’s arms to look at him, a lump in my throat.

“Will you stay? Just for a bit?” I ask, and he’s nodding before I’ve even finished.

“Of course, Lamb. Let’s unpack and then we can take a look around.”

Several hours later, we’re eating dinner in my room at a round table that’s set in front of the large window, the sun low in the sky when there’s a knock at the door.

“Um, come in?” I say, more of a question than anything else, and the door flies open, Hunter striding in with Roman on his heels and a security guard behind them.

“You have some visitors, Miss Iris. Are they okay to stay?” the older man asks, eyeing up Hunt who is almost vibrating as he stands there, his chest heaving.

“It’s fine, uh…” I trail off, trying to recall the man’s name but coming up short.

“Donald, Miss,” he supplies helpfully with a nod. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you, Donald,” I say, watching as he retreats, shutting the door behind him.

“Peaches, look at me,” Hunt orders, and I tear my gaze away from the door to find emerald eyes blazing into mine. “Come here.”

“Hunt…” Rowan warns, his tone low, but I lick my lips, holding out my hand.

“It’s okay, Roo,” I tell him, slowly getting to my feet and cautiously stepping towards Hunter. My gaze drops to my feet, my body shaking the closer to Hunter I get, my thoughts swirling in my mind. I should have spoken to him sooner, not just left it up to Roo to text him once we’d arrived and unpacked.

“Look at me, Iris,” Hunt demands again, and I lift my gaze, realising how close we’re standing to one another, our chests brushing with each of our breaths. My eyes lock onto his emerald ones, which swirl with so many emotions it makes me dizzy. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby?”

“I–I’m sorry, Hunt,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “I worried that you wouldn’t let me come, and I need this…so much.”

“Fuck, Iris,” Hunt breathes out, closing his eyelids and taking a deep inhale, his chest expanding and brushing against mine. He opens his eyes, staring into my very fucking soul. “Don’t you know that I’d burn the fucking world down without question if you needed me to? I’d start a war with the Bratva, sacrifice everything that I am just to keep you safe, baby.” The tears burn a path down my cheeks as they fall, and his fingers come up to brush them aside. “I’d do literally anything, even offer up my entire crew, just to see the shadows in your eyes go away.”

“I don’t want you to do any of that, Hunt. I just need time and space,” I tell him, my heart swelling at his offer. The Shadows are his life, he’s spent his life protecting them, and for him to offer them up is a big fucking deal. “And I like some of the Shadows in my eyes.”

One side of his lips tips up in a half smile, his palm cupping my cheek to bring our foreheads together. “I love you, wife.”

I huff a laugh, recalling how I became his wife without him even knowing. “I guess we’re even now. Maybe the next surprise could be something less…well, less dramatic?”

“Maybe that’s just how we roll, Peaches,” he tells me, pressing his lips against the space his forehead was a moment ago before heaving a sigh. “I’m going to go over security with Rowan, but Roman needs a hug.”

With another parting kiss that leaves tingles racing across my skin, he steps aside and I find Roman standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans, his gaze on the floor.

“Ro?” I gently ask, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry, I should have said⁠—”

“No, I’m sorry, fuck!” he rasps, his voice broken and thick with emotion. His hands come out of his pockets, tugging his hair loose, his fingers running through it. His brown eyes lock on mine, his gaze tormented. “When I read Rowan’s message, all I could think is that we weren’t enough to fix you, that we failed once again, and I know that makes me a selfish bastard, Princess, but I just wanted to be enough. For once in my miserable life, I wanted to be enough.”

A sob tears through me at the tears that glisten in his eyes, at the way his shoulders cave like he really believes that he is worthless. Without thought, I step right up to him, pulling him into my arms and wrapping him in a tight embrace.

“You are enough, Ro, more than enough. I’m the one who’s broken, who’s so lost I can’t find my way back to you. I’m lost in the dark, screaming and screaming, but no one comes, only monsters who want to tear me apart and devour me.”

My knees buckle as I weep, but before we can crash to the floor, strong arms wrap around us both, Hunt behind me and Rowan behind Roman. They guide us down, holding us between them as we both just cry.

“I’m the one who’s not enough, who’s like a shadow, a wraith,” I tell them, tears streaming down my face and soaking Roman’s T-shirt. He holds me tightly, his own tears dripping onto my hair. “And I refuse to let that man steal anything else from me. I will not let him take you away from me, but he’s winning at the moment, Ro. So we need to try a different approach, but it’s not because you’re not enough. Sometimes, we just need a helping hand.”

“Shit, I know, Princess. I’m making this about me, and it’s not⁠—”

“It is about you too, Ro. All of you. It’s why Julia has agreed to talk to you guys too. She agrees that it’s affected all of us and we need to work together to get through this,” I tell him, moving so I can look into his red-rimmed eyes. “And we will win. We will make it through this, Ro.”

“You’re so fucking strong, Princess,” he tells me, dipping down to place his lips against my forehead. “And we will win because of you.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“EVERYTHING” BY VIDE

HUNTER

Ifucking hate leaving her, even if I know that deep down she needs this. And maybe that’s part of the problem, I muse as I prepare to leave her room while my fucking soul screams at me not to go. Maybe a part of me, a really selfish part, hates that I can’t fix this. That I’m fucking useless to help her get over what that cunt did to her.

We’ve all heard her screams at night, heard her whimpers and pleas for him to stop. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he did to her. How he defiled and raped her every night. Sick, dead fucking bastard. I don’t care if Nikolai gets first cut or even the last one. We will take our pound of flesh from Sergi one day, and we will make him scream the way he makes her scream when she’s asleep.

“We have guys on their new security team,” I tell Iris, blinking away the violent thoughts as I brush some of her hair behind her ear, drinking in her features. “And Rowan tapped into their feed so we can keep an eye on you.”

Her delicate brows lift up, but her eyes stay on me, and my stomach clenches with the knowledge that I won’t wake up with her in my arms tomorrow morning. “Bit stalkerish, wouldn’t you say?” Her plush lips lift in a grin that has the side of my mouth tilting upwards.

“Oh, Peaches.” I lean down, placing my lips next to her ear and relishing the harsh breath she sucks in. “A stalker has nothing on the lengths we would go to watch you. The things we’ve planned to do, to make sure we have eyes on you twenty-four seven.” She shudders against me, sending a bolt of electricity straight to my dick. Placing a light kiss on her temple, I pull away, warmth spreading throughout my body at the hazy look in her hooded eyes. “Be good and I’ll visit every day, Peaches,” I tell her, dragging myself away so that Roman can say his goodbyes.

“I’ll miss you so fucking much, Princess,” he rasps in a thick voice, pulling her against him and kissing the top of her head. “Rowan and I will visit when we can, okay?”

She nods against his chest, her body sinking into his as her arms wrap around him. After our fruitless visit to the estate that they believe Lilly is being held at, I called Asher to let him know we’d found nothing, but that it looked like a nurse was coming in and staying all day. Plus there was a shit ton of security, which is suspicious as fuck. He begged for our help in getting a closer look, aka infiltrating the estate. I didn’t want to agree, but when I told Iris, she got that fire in her eyes again and told me that of course we would do everything we can to help find her.

We came up with the plan that the twins would become security for the estate so they can take a look round from the inside over the next few days. It means that I’ll be the only one free to visit Iris, but she insisted, saying that if Lilly is there, she needed the guys more than Iris does right now.

This woman, fuck. She’s so kind-hearted, thinking of others even as she tries to heal from the horrors that she’s been through. If I didn’t love her before, which I did, I would fall for her now.

“If you find Lilly, just make sure she and the baby are safe, okay?” she whispers, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes.

“Of course, darling,” he readily agrees, swooping down to press a kiss to her cheek. She’s become a bit more comfortable with our touch, not flinching like she did when she first came home, but kissing seems to be a line that we’re not willing to cross right now, none of us wanting her to associate our touch with Sergi’s.

Roman steps back, his hands clenching at his sides as he steps away from her like he wants to grab hold and never let go. Me and you both, Baby Boy. Rowan takes his place and I reach out, pulling Roman so that his back is against my chest, my arms banded around his hard body, which is thrumming with tension.

“She’ll be safe,” I whisper as Rowan tugs her into a hug, her body melting into his the way it did for his brother and me. “And I’ll come every day to check up on her, give you both a full report.”

He sighs, sinking into my hold, and it warms my insides. We’ve not been intimate at all since Iris was taken, and not since she came back either. It doesn’t feel right, not now that she’s here and hurting, but this embrace is exactly what we both need.

“I fucking hate this,” he murmurs as Rowan says something that makes her giggle softly, the sound like the first rays of the sun after the darkest night.

“I know, Baby Boy,” I say, the old pet name slipping out and pulling another breath from him as he sinks into me more. “But if this is what she needs to come back to us fully, then what choice do we have?”

Rowan releases Iris with a soft kiss to her head and an instruction to lock up behind us once we go.

“I will,” she agrees, wrapping her arms around herself as if to keep his touch on her longer. “I’ll be going straight to bed.”

“Good girl,” I praise, letting go of Roman and huffing a breath before stepping towards the door. “And don’t forget to eat and drink your water.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she sasses, her tone teasing, which does nothing to stop the flash of white-hot lust that bolts through me at her words. Fuck, that’s beyond inappropriate, but I can’t help the need to punish her for her brattiness.

“That’s earned you a punishment, Peaches, and don’t think for a moment that I won’t save them all up for when you’re home.” I watch as she swallows hard, a flush decorating her cheeks.

“Yes, Daddy,” she says again, though her tone is all breathy and full of uncertain promise. Good. It reaffirms my belief that she will heal. She just needs time, like she told Roman earlier, and we can give her that.

“Good girl,” I purr before taking a deep inhale. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Peaches.”

The twins also murmur goodbyes, and then we’re leaving her room, waiting by her door until the lock sounds. A security guard is standing outside, down the hall a little, his arms crossed over his chest. I prowl over to him, watching him stand taller at my approach.

“You don’t take your eyes off that door tonight, Grim, got it?” I order, his melting skull tattoo, the insignia of the Shadows, bobs on his neck as he swallows hard.

“Yes, sir,” he replies, his eyes sliding back to Iris’s door.

Without another word, I stride down the hallway, Roman and Rowan at my back as we leave the facility. They don’t usually let visitors stay this late, but given it was Iris’s first night, they gave us special permission.

I round the truck Roman and I drove in, which is parked next to Rowan’s vintage sports car he used to bring Iris. I want to be mad at him for allowing her to be parted from us, but I can’t. She needs this, and though it pains me to admit that we couldn’t help, I would do anything if it brings her back to us.

“We’ll see you back at the flat,” I tell Rowan, Roman opting to join me again, climbing into the passenger seat.

The drive home is silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts as the darkness of the countryside gives way to the bright lights of the city. I pull into our large garage, Rowan driving up as I put the truck into park. There are the shadows of a couple of cars around us. We’re not frivolous, but we all like different things and going fast so we have a small collection of cars and bikes.

We’re still silent as we get out and make our way up to the flat, nodding at the guys who are always patrolling. We upped security since the attack, and then upped it again once we got Iris back, so there are plenty of Shadows keeping everyone safe in their beds.

The door to the flat closes and we’re sitting on the sofa, glasses of whiskey in our hands before any of us speaks.

“I won’t apologise for taking her there,” Rowan states, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “I hate her being away from us so soon, but she wasn’t getting any better with us.”

A deep sigh rumbles from my chest as I take a deep breath. “I know.” I bring the glass up to my lips, swallowing a mouthful that barely burns anymore. I probably should cut back, but the past few weeks have been…intense. “I don’t like it, but it was the right call.”

“So, this job for the Knights,” Roman starts, and I know he’s not being callous by not talking about Iris. He needs the distraction, like we all do. “Run through the plan again, boss.”

My lips tilt up at his cheeky smirk. “You two will go there first thing tomorrow morning as part of the security detail that patrols the estate,” I tell them, running through the plan for a final time. “You will scout around, try and see if you can find her, and report anything to me as soon as you find it.”

“This shit is so fucked up,” Roman mutters, and I know he means Lilly and the fact it seems not only did her uncle kidnap her, but her father-in-law—Asher’s own fucking dad—seems to be in on it somehow according to the Knights.

“Yeah, family generally sucks,” I reply, knowing we all have had our demons when it comes to the people who were meant to take care of us. My gaze settles on Rowan, his jaw clenched hard. “You doing okay?”

After his confession to Iris, something that before now only the three of us have known, he’s been more quiet than usual. His amber eyes meet mine, darkness swirling inside them, then he gives me a sharp nod. “I’m going to check the feeds.” He places his glass on the table and heads to our office room. I don’t need to ask to know what feeds he’ll be checking. We have a camera in Iris’s bedroom, one Rowan set up when she wasn’t looking so we could make sure she’s alright. Serene Haven doesn’t install cameras in the bedrooms or bathrooms unless someone is high-risk of harming themselves.

“Best get to bed,” I instruct Roman, standing up and grabbing Rowan’s glass to take into the kitchen. “Early start in the morning.”

He follows me into the kitchen, passing me his own glass when I open the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” he questions, his voice soft like a caress.

Closing the dishwasher, I straighten up, locking eyes with him. His brows are wrinkled in concern, his gaze assessing.

“Sleep in my bed tonight?” I ask, and his shoulders lose some of their tension. “Just to sleep, anything else doesn’t feel…”

“Right. It doesn’t feel right without her now,” he adds, and I nod, relief making my knees weak. It’s not that I don’t want him. Christ, I’ve always wanted him, even when I shouldn’t have. “Let’s go to bed, Daddy.”

He holds his hand out, and I step towards him, sliding mine into his warm palm. It’s different to holding Iris’s hand. His is much larger for a start, and harder, but it sends the same butterflies fluttering around my stomach as when she takes my hand. He leads me out of the room, past Rowan in the office, whose face is lit up by the screen he’s staring intently at. There is no point in telling him to go to bed, he won’t take his eyes off her for a bit.

“How is she?” I ask, Roman pausing on the way to my room and looking back at his brother.

“Sleeping, but fitfully,” Rowan tells us, his eyes not leaving the screen.

My jaw clenches as lead fills my stomach. I hate not being there to hold her, to soothe her through her nightmares.

“Come on, Hunt,” Roman urges, and I look at him, tension lining his muscles. “We can’t do anything from here anyway.”

Huffing a breath, I nod, letting him lead me into my room. He lets go of my hand once we’re inside, gently stripping all my clothes, bar my boxers. He then takes his clothes off, leaving his boxer briefs on and dropping the rest all in a heap, which by his small smirk, he knows annoys the fuck out of me.

“Brat,” I mumble, his slight chuckle telling me my guess was right and it was intentional. “I’ll start a punishment tally for you too.”

“I look forward to it, as will Iris when she’s home,” he says, taking my hand and tugging me towards the bed. Pulling back the covers, he gives me a little nudge, so I climb in, lying on my side. He gets in after me, turning so his back is to my front, then scooting back until there’s not a breath of space between us. “Good night, Daddy.”

“Good night, Baby Boy,” I reply, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder and pulling him even closer.

Good night, Peaches.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“WE’LL BE FINE” BY LUZ

IRIS

I’d be lying if I said that last night was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a while. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t the worst, but I spent more time tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position than I did sleeping. And when I slept, the usual nightmares plagued me, leaving my body on high alert and waiting for Sergi to walk in at any moment.

At around six in the morning, I give up, pulling myself out of the comfy bed with a groan and head to the bathroom with gritty eyes. After a quick shower, which was deliciously warm and full of my preferred products thanks to Rowan helping me pack, I throw on some soft cotton leggings and an oversized T-shirt that, by the smell, is Roman’s. I take a second to inhale him in, wrapping my arms around myself in a hug that I wish he could give me.

Tears sting my eyes, a wave of loneliness rushing over me and threatening to bring me to my knees for a moment.

“This is for the best, Iris, you know that, so don’t be a baby,” I scold myself, huffing a laugh at the words. I know I should be kinder to myself, but right now, I need a little push to start my first day.

Taking another deep inhale, I open my door, jumping, my hand flying to my chest when I see a tall man covered in tattoos waiting outside.

“Morning, Mrs Anderson,” he greets in a low, gravelly voice that I barely hear over the pounding of my heart. It takes a couple of panted breaths, but then my eyebrows scrunch as recognition floods through me.

“Did we meet in the Shadows gym? Rufus, isn’t it?” I ask, my voice only slightly breathless from the scare he just gave me. His lips spread into a grin that makes his imposing demeanour fade a little, not completely, but enough that my heart slows down from possible heart attack levels.

“Yes, ma’am, and yeah, we met there. Hunter chose me to be one of your guards, so I’ll be here all day, swapping out with Joe later on,” he tells me as I step into the hallway and close my door behind me.

“No disrespect,” I say, turning to face him after nibbling my lip. “But couldn’t your presence be triggering for some of the other patients?”

His own brows dip, his blue eyes filling with sorrow. “They gave us these scrubs to wear so that everyone thinks we’re just orderlies,” he tells me, and I blink as I register for the first time that he’s wearing baby pink scrubs. “And they introduced us yesterday to the other guests, but if it becomes an issue, we’ll think of something. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” My poor abused heart twinges at the worry lacing his tone, the way his eyebrows are still drawn together.

“The colour suits you, Rufus,” I tease, a smile tugging up my lips, his own lifting and the sadness leaving his eyes.

“I think so too. Joe isn’t convinced though,” he replies gravely, mischief in his eyes, and I find my shoulders relaxing a little at the simple conversation as we both huff a small laugh. “Are you going to breakfast?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Hunter didn’t mention anything about making sure I ate and drank, did he?”

A blush steals across his cheeks and I know that I’ve got it right. Bloody overprotective Daddy.

“He might have once or twice,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck with his large palm, and I chuckle.

“Then I guess we’re going to breakfast, Rufus,” I reply and turn in that direction. We navigate through the corridors and down the stairs to the dining hall I was shown yesterday, and the opulent decor astounds me once again.

I grew up around wealth. Our mansion in Chelsea was full of expensive artwork and objects, but Serene Haven could give us a run for our money in that department any day. The fabric-covered walls are lined with beautiful landscape paintings in gilt frames and the thick Persian carpet under our feet is a stunning pattern you could very well get lost in. There are large floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, flooding the place with light and leaving a warmth in my solar plexus as we move through the space.

The dining hall opens from 5am until 10pm, with main meals made to order and healthy snacks available twenty-four seven. Julia told me they understand that sometimes the patients—or guests as she likes to refer to us as—need to have a different routine to what would be considered typical eating hours, so they try to be as flexible as possible.

As we enter the room, it’s set up the same as yesterday, with lots of small round tables covered in gleaming white tablecloths and glass vases of fresh flowers on each one. There is an island in the middle that is piled high with many breakfast foods; cereal, fruit, pastries, and fresh breads, as well as several jugs of different coloured juice. Along the back wall is clearly the hot food station, with hot plates covered in everything you might want, from eggs and bacon to waffles and pancakes. There’s also a fancy-looking coffee machine with huge mugs stacked beside it. Julia told me breakfast was a buffet kind of affair, with lunch and dinner made to order from a daily menu.

I’m not the only one here so early. There’s a girl who can’t be more than sixteen sitting at a table, a steaming mug on the table in front of her that she stares into with such a lost look my stomach clenches at the visible pain on her drawn face. There’s also a guy, maybe around my age, sat at a different table, demolishing an enormous plate of pancakes. He looks up as Rufus and I enter, his gaze going to Rufus as he swallows hard.

“I’ll be over here if you need anything, Mrs Anderson,” he tells me, clearly sensing what seems to be the boy’s slight discomfort. I squeeze his arm, trying to tell him I appreciate his presence.

“Thank you, Rufus, and call me Iris, please.” He gives me a flash of a smile and a nod before standing with his back against the wall and to one side of the door, but far enough away not to startle anyone coming in.

Turning to face the tables, I take a deep inhale and walk towards the island. Picking up a plate, I’m trying to decide what to eat when the boy who was shovelling pancakes like he’d not eaten in a decade comes up next to me.

“You know that tattooed hunk?” he asks, his voice quiet. I look up from the pastries to find deep hazel eyes surrounded by the most stunning eyelashes staring at me. His face is delicate, with sharp cheekbones and full lips, lending him an ethereal air that I bet fashion houses would die for. He immediately reminds me of a fae prince, especially with that glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Rufus? Yeah, he’s…here to protect me.” I’m not sure if I should have said that last part, but I don’t want this guy to be worried about him.

“I knew it! No man that fine would work as an orderly,” he states in a triumphant whisper, and I can’t help the giggle that falls from my lips. “I’m Johnny by the way.” He holds out his hand and I take it.

“Iris,” I say as he shakes my hand in a firm, but not uncomfortable, grip. “I’m sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable. Rufus, that is.”

“Girl, the only discomfort is in my sweats,” he tells me with a chuckle, letting go of my hand and looking over at Rufus again, giving the gangster a wink. I choke on air as Rufus blushes bright red, his chest shuddering slightly as he looks away. “At least he bats for my team. I can work with that.”

I stare at Johnny, blinking. “How do you know he’s gay? You’ve not even spoken to him.”

Johnny puffs air from his lips, making a gesture at himself with his hand. “Gaydar, darling. It’s like my superpower and it’s flashing fucking rainbows for that hunk of man meat.”

Another laugh bursts out from between my lips. Johnny is like a breath of fresh air, the kind that hits you smack in the face and demands to be appreciated.

“Noted,” I reply, my mouth falling open when he takes my plate from me and starts piling pastries and fruit onto it.

“These pastries are to die for, and we do exercise classes so you can indulge as much as you like. Plus, you know, we deserve a treat after the shit we’ve been through, am I right?”

“Umm, yeah, I guess we do…” I trail off, not sure how to navigate the topic of what has clearly happened to us. I mean, Serene Haven is a facility specifically for victims of sexual abuse. It’s like the elephant in the room.

Once my plate is full of way more than I could eat, Johnny grabs a glass of juice and ushers me to his table, his plate of pancakes still half full.

“Okay, so I’m just gonna lay it all out for you and get this shit over and done with, but that doesn’t mean you have to tell me yours,” Johnny starts as soon as we sit down. “I was living my best life when I met Jason, the man of my dreams. Turns out he was a complete arsehole, and one night after about two weeks of being with him, he drugged me and invited all his friends over for some fun.” Johnny is so matter-of-fact as he tells me, even cutting up and eating his pancakes as he speaks. Meanwhile, my stomach tightens with dread, and I can’t even take a sip of my juice whilst I listen. “That was where the fun ended, and I remember snippets, but not everything. I woke up in a shit state, barely able to crawl out from the bloody sheets to find him and his friends gone. I called the cops, told them my sorry tale, and they suggested I come here to rest and recover.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Johnny. That’s awful.” Tears sting my eyes at the horror of not knowing what happened to you. I used to wonder if that would be better, the not knowing what was happening, but seeing the way Johnny’s face has gone tight, I don’t think it would be. “What happened to Jason?”

“Oh, they arrested him and sent him to prison, along with some of his friends,” he tells me, and I reach out and take his slightly trembling hand. Maybe he’s more affected than he wants me to believe.

“Good,” I say as I squeeze his hand. “And I’m sure if you ever wanted to, Rufus could arrange for him to have a minor accident.” Johnny’s eyes go wide as saucers, the words surprising even me.

“Shit, a hunk and a gangster. I’m in love! You have to introduce us after breakfast,” he pleads, his wide eyes going doe-like, and I just know that he gets what he wants when he turns those on anyone.

“Sure, I’ll introduce you, but…” I trail off, not sure how to ask what I want without seeming to be rude or prying. His face softens and his hand turns and squeezes mine back.

“How can I even think about sex or anything after that happened?” he asks in a soft voice, and I nod. “Well, they may have ripped my arsehole apart, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want someone else to kiss it better, you know?”

My skin flushes hot even as I wince at the graphic way he described what happened to him, remembering the way Nik would come and kiss me better after Sergi’s visits. It was so wrong, but also so right and helped at the time.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to spill that tea at some point, girl.” He laughs as I blush harder, my cheeks and chest burning. I can only give a nod, not quite ready to spill anything just yet. He gives my hand another squeeze, then lets go and resumes eating his breakfast.

There’s something about making a friend so quickly, especially one who has some idea of what I’ve been through, that loosens the tightness which has been binding my chest ever since that awful night when Sergi took me from the Shadows. Picking up a flaky pastry, I bring it to my lips and take a bite, a smile tugging my lips upwards as the flavour of peach fills my mouth.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“GONE” BY BLAKE ROSE

ROWAN

Roman and I get up at the crack of dawn, taking the truck to the estate of Adrian Ramsey, which sits in the Wiltshire countryside. The sun is just rising as we drive up the long driveway after being let through by the armed guard at the guardhouse.

“A lot of security for someone not hiding something,” Roman muses as we drive around the back of the palatial mansion to the staff parking area.

A guy in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair waits for us outside a nondescript door, wearing all black and also armed.

“Indeed,” I utter, waiting for Roman to park before I unbuckle my seat belt and get out of the car.

“Rowan and Roman Kent, I presume?” the man asks, his voice deep and gruff as he holds out a hand.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, taking his outstretched hand in mine and giving it a firm shake. You can tell a lot about a man by his handshake, and this guy doesn’t dominate like some wankers might. Just a solid grip to let me know he could break my hand, no doubt, but doesn’t feel the need to push the point.

“My name is Doug, and I’m head of security here. Welcome.” His tone is no-nonsense, and he releases my hand to grab Roman’s. “You guys will be stationed outside the house today. We work in pairs, so you’ll be together for the whole of your twelve-hour shift. Your job is to walk the perimeter of the house and immediate gardens. You have the digital map that was sent to you?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman and I say together, and Doug’s lips quirk.

“Follow me and I’ll issue you your guns. You can meet the others and then get into position,” he tells us, turning and holding a card on the pad at the door, then a green light blinks and the sound of the lock disengaging fills the early morning air.

We follow him into the house, both of us looking around and cataloguing any details we can. We’ll need all the advantages for a rescue mission, and the security here is top-notch. They are definitely hiding something.

We pass by what looks and smells like the kitchen, plus several closed doors before we get to another plain wooden door with a pad that Doug uses to gain access.

“Here are your access cards,” he says, reaching over to a table and swiping two cards, which he hands us. “They give you entry to the house and staff areas, which are highlighted on your map. Mr Ramsey is in residence most days, as is his niece and ward, Lilly.”

My heart thuds loudly inside my chest. Looks like we may have found her after all, though I want to get eyes on her to confirm it’s who we are looking for. I slide a look at Roman when Doug turns back to the table, and he gives me a small nod.

“Here are your radio and guns, which are only to be used against an intruder. Aim to injure, unless the threat is to your or anyone else’s life,” Doug tells us, his voice serious as he hands us each a handgun and holster.

“Are we expecting any threats, sir?” I ask, watching his reaction to see if I can gain an idea of why the security is so high.

“Not that I know of, but Mr Ramsey likes to be prepared,” he answers, giving us a moment to attach the radios to our belts and strap the gun holsters on before leading us out of the room and to another door, which is ajar. “This is the rest of the team. You’ll recognise them on account of all the black.” He huffs a deep laugh, as do some men and women in the room, sitting on sofas and drinking coffee. There are four others, all dressed in black and with guns. Two women make up half the current team. “Everyone, this is Roman and Rowan Kent. They’re on rotation as of today.”

“Fuck, it’s too early to be seeing double,” one guy growls, rubbing his slightly red and puffy eyes.

“If you’d had less to drink last night, your head wouldn’t be pounding so much, Tucker,” Doug teases, though there’s an edge to his voice. “I hope this is not a regular issue.”

“No, sir,” Tucker mumbles, his cheeks going red as he takes another gulp of his coffee.

“Excellent,” Doug replies before turning back to Roman and I. “Do you want to grab a drink or are you good to go?”

“We’re good.” Again, we say it in unison, and he outright grins this time.

“That’s creepy as fuck, you know that right?” he asks as some of the others laugh.

“We know,” we say again, both of us smirking, because sometimes it’s fun to fuck with people. Who am I kidding, it’s fun all the time.

“Well, follow me, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee,” Doug instructs, chuckling and leading us back out into the dim corridor and the way we came. We’re soon at the door we entered, which he opens, and the fresh morning air flows into the space. “You get an hour’s break at twelve. Questions?”

“No, sir,” Roman and I say together, earning an outright bark of laughter this time.

“Fuck off, you two.” Doug chuckles, ushering us out and shutting the door.

My brother and I look at each other, all traces of humour gone.

“Let’s look around, shall we?” I say, and he nods.

We first walk around the outside of the mansion, which takes us a good fifteen minutes because it’s just that large. It reminds me a little of Serene Haven, and my heart gives a pang, wondering how the rest of the night went for my little Lamb. I finally gave in around two this morning, getting a couple hours of sleep before we came here. It was worth the gritty eyes and slight head fog, though I’ve done far more on much less sleep. My poor Lamb tossed and turned for most of the night, whimpering in her sleep in a way that made me itch to drive back there and sneak into her room just to hold her.

Hours pass as we walk around the mansion and through the well-maintained gardens, and the sun is high in the sky when we round the house and see something that stops us both dead in our tracks.

There’s a woman in a nurse’s uniform, pushing a young woman in a wheelchair. Her hair is brunette and there’s definitely the swell of a pregnant stomach underneath the blanket around her legs. The pair have paused at the top of the entrance steps and the older woman is looking around as if for a ramp.

Roman jogs over. “Allow me, Miss, ma’am,” he says, bending down as if to lift the wheelchair down the steps. “Rowan, give me a hand, will ya?”

The girl in the chair, who I’m almost certain is Lilly Vanderbilt, snaps her attention to me, her hazel eyes widening as she looks from me to my twin as I walk over to the group, taking over from the nurse and lifting from the back while Roman lifts the front.

“Are you…” she asks, her voice soft and uncertain with an accent that’s not dissimilar to Iris’s.

“Twins? Yes,” Roman answers as we carry the chair down the steps.

“But I’m the better looking one,” I tease in a low voice, and even Roman looks up at me, one brow lifted. I’m not usually chatty, especially with strangers, but all I can hear is Iris’s voice begging us to make sure Lilly and her baby are safe, and it makes something inside me crack, just a little.

“Thank you, boys, that was very gallant,” the nurse flutters, coming up next to the chair with a blush on her cheeks as we set it down at the base of the steps.

“You’re welcome, ma’am, Miss,” Roman says, straightening back up as I come to stand next to him. I study Lilly, knowing in my gut that she is Lilly and who we’ve been searching for. I learnt to trust my instincts a long time ago, and I won’t ignore them now. “Anything else we can help you with?”

“What’s your name? And why are you here?” Lilly asks, her eyes narrowing as she looks at us, her gaze taking in our all-black outfits and the radios. Both of us have angled away so she doesn’t see the guns. I don’t want her to worry, not in her condition, and neither does Roman, I’m sure.

“Apologies, m’lady,” Roman replies, hand on his heart and a boyish grin on his face that has her lips twitching. Fucking joker, he just can’t help himself. Though if it puts her at ease and takes away some of the strain around her almost vacant eyes, I guess I can’t blame him. “My name is Roman Kent. This is Rowan Kent, and we are part of the security your uncle has hired to help keep you safe.”

Her brows drop at his words. “Safe from what?” she questions, but before either of us can answer, the nurse clears her throat.

“Well, thank you once again, boys. I’ll be sure to call if I need your assistance,” she says, her tone not unkind but a little brusque. “Right, dear, let’s take a turn around the house, shall we?” Dismissing us, she pushes Lilly in the chair, turning away from us and heading in the opposite direction.

I’ve already pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit dial on Hunt’s number. Lilly twists in her chair just as he answers.

“We’ve found her. She’s here,” I tell him, and he curses. I want to do the same. I mean, I’m glad we’ve finally found her, but knowing that her uncle has her trapped here while she’s pregnant and unable to see the fathers of her child… It makes my blood boil, especially when I recall the confusion and slightly vacant look in her eyes. “I also suspect she’s being drugged.”

“Motherfucker!” Hunt growls, and I agree with him. What kind of bastard drugs a pregnant woman? I hear him take a deep inhale just as Lilly rounds the corner out of our sight. “Keep an eye on her when you can, but don’t blow your cover. I’ll message the Knights and await their instructions.”

I pocket my phone when the line goes dead, then tilt my head to tell Roman to keep walking in the direction that the nurse took Lilly. We’ll keep our distance, but I want to keep eyes on her for a bit longer.

“You think they’re drugging her?” he whispers, and I nod, the muscles in my neck tight and almost ready to snap. I can’t help imagining Iris in Lilly’s place, held captive and helpless, at the mercy of others. “Shit.”

“We’re to monitor her as much as possible, await further instructions from the Knights,” I tell him, and he dips his head in confirmation.

“We don’t ask for anything from them for this though. We do this because it’s the right fucking thing to do. Because we couldn’t…” he trails off, but I know where he was going.

Because we couldn’t save Iris sooner.

There’s a pounding in my ears, my vision clouding for a moment when I think of all she suffered at the hands of that dead man walking, and he will die in the most horrible way I can think of. I will flay his skin from his body, then take off all the pieces that hurt her, all while keeping him alive so he feels every moment. I could make it last days, weeks maybe if I can keep my beast in check enough.

Sergi Petrov is marked for death at my hand. He owes me that much at least.

“For Iris,” I mumble as we silently trail the two women, far enough away that neither suspects they’re being followed.

It’s all for Iris. Everything I do, every breath I take, and every beat of my heart. It all belongs to her now, and I would give her any part of me she asked, carve it from my body in offering, because she may be my sacrificial lamb, but I’m her devoted pilgrim, worshipping at her altar for the rest of my life and beyond.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“ELASTIC HEART - PIANO VERSION” BY SIA

IRIS

Julia finds me still chatting with Johnny in the dining hall after breakfast.

“Good morning, Iris, Johnny,” she greets, a smile on her face. “Iris, might I have a word, please?”

My palms grow slick, like they used to whenever I was called into the headmistress’s office. Silly really, but I’m not due to have my first therapy session until later this afternoon, so I can’t help but wonder why she’s calling me in now. Johnny gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll see you later, babe,” he says, getting up and heading out of the room. I watch as he passes Rufus, blowing the other man a kiss, who flushes a deep red. A smile tugs at my lips at how much of a tease Johnny is until I remember Julia is waiting.

“O–of course,” I reply, getting up from my seat and following her as she leads me out of the dining hall. Rufus follows behind us, keeping his distance, but I can feel his presence like a reassuring warmth, which is already a comfort at my back.

“I’m glad to see you’ve already made a friend. Johnny has been with us for a while now, and I know he’s been desperate for a companion,” she tells me, leading me down a wide hallway. We reach a wooden door, which she opens and ushers me into. “I’m afraid you need to stay put here, Mr Woods,” she says to Rufus, who looks at me, and I give him a nod.

The room is bright and airy, so when she closes the door, I don’t feel trapped, though my heart flutters inside my chest as I wait for her to tell me the reason for this visit.

“Johnny is like a breath of fresh air,” I tell her, and she indicates a deep pink velvet sofa for me to sit on. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and I wish I could just sink into it, but nerves keep my back ramrod straight as I keep my gaze focused on her. She takes a plush chair that’s close but still leaving plenty of room between us, which I appreciate.

“That he is,” she says, reaching over to the low table by her chair and picking up a file. “Now, you know we did a series of medical tests yesterday? I want to assure you that everything is fine on the sexually transmitted diseases front, so you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

A breath whooshes out of me. To be truthful, I hadn’t even thought about possibly catching something nasty from Sergi, not until they said they needed to check, just in case.

“T–that’s good news,” I mutter, my brows drawing close when I see her smile turn slightly strained. “What is it?”

She licks her lips. “The pregnancy test came back positive, Iris. You’re about four to five weeks pregnant.”

All the breath leaves my lungs, my world narrowing down to a pinpoint as a rushing sound fills my ears.

“P–pregnant?” I whisper, my stomach swooping. Like the possibility of STDs, I hadn’t ever considered the possibility of getting pregnant, but then I remember Hunt taking out my IUD, my period following, and then…nothing.

“Yes, and there is plenty of time to decide what you want to do, so you don’t need to decide now,” she says, sitting forward but not reaching out, like she knows I couldn’t bear her touch right now.

“What to do?” I question, my voice sounding a little distant and disconnected. Blinking, I look up at her, and she gives an understanding nod.

“Whether you want to keep the baby,” she replies in a gentle voice, but I rear back, my hand flying to my stomach even though it’s the same as it’s always been.

“Get rid of my baby?” I ask, my breaths becoming shallow, my hands trembling.

“Only if you want to, but you don’t have to. Or make any kind of decision yet. There’s time for you to think, Iris. It’s not a decision to be made lightly. Raising a baby in these kinds of circumstances comes with some challenges that cannot be ignored.”

A child who is the product of rape, that’s what she means, because this just isn’t my baby. It’s his too. Sergi’s. Bile fills my throat, burning as I swallow it back.

“I understand,” I utter, licking my dry lips. “But it’s not the baby’s fault that it’s father…” I trail off, unable to say the words aloud yet. One of those challenges, I suppose. As will seeing the baby’s face every day. Will it only remind me of Sergi?

It might look like Nik…

Tears fill my eyes thinking about having Nik’s baby, not his father’s. There’d be no question about keeping it. I love Nik, I always have, and I suspect I always will. His baby would be cherished, loved, and untainted by terrible memories, but maybe this baby could be too? I’ve always wanted a family, a large one, which is something Hunter made me face when he took control that time and removed my coil. I’m also a believer that children shouldn’t carry the sins of their fathers, or either parent. Nik is not responsible for his father’s actions, just like I’m not for mine. Just like this baby isn’t.

“As I said, Iris, there is time. It’s a complex situation and there is no rush to decide either way, not until around twenty-four weeks,” Julia informs me, her voice still soothing.

“Okay,” I reply, my hand giving a stroke over the life growing inside me before I rest it on my thigh. “Was there anything else?”

“No. You have art this morning, followed by yoga, and then our one-on-one session,” Julia says, placing the folder back on the table. “But I’m here if you want to talk through anything, okay?”

“Okay, thank you,” I say, getting to my feet, my legs feeling a little like jelly. She gets up too, taking a step towards the door, but my hand darts out, lightly grasping her arm. She turns back to me, her face open and patient. “Can, I mean, you won’t tell anyone else of this, will you? I’d like to tell them when I’m ready.”

Her face softens, her hand coming over mine to squeeze gently. “Of course, it’s medical and thus confidential. You are in control here, Iris. You call all the shots.”

My tight chest loosens ever so slightly as I give her a nod, releasing my grip and following her to the door.

“Thank you,” I tell her just as she opens it, Rufus standing to attention outside. His gaze traces over my face, his brows dipping at what he sees. I imagine I look as shocked as I feel, as conflicted about the decision I need to make.

“Of course. Anytime, Iris. I mean it. I’m here anytime you need to chat. See you later,” she replies, allowing me to leave her office and then gently shutting the door behind me.

“Everything okay, Iris?” Rufus enquires, and I blink as I look at him, frozen for a second.

I’m pregnant with my rapist’s baby, the father of one of the men that I’m in love with but can’t bear his or anyone else’s touch anymore without limitations.

“Everything’s fine, thank you,” I say instead, only a slight tremor in my voice hinting at the lie I just told. I’m not fine, far fucking from it.

But worrying solves nothing, and it won’t help me make this seemingly impossible decision. So I do what Julia suggested and allow myself time to think. It’s what I’m here for after all.

NIKOLAI

It’s been a couple of weeks since Sergi lost Iris in that poker game and he’s still not so silently fuming. He knows he can’t make a move directly to take her back. Lucifer made that clear when he came back into the room and Iris and the Shadows were gone. It took a great deal of strength not to fall to my knees and sob when he gave me a subtle nod, telling me they had her and she was safe.

Fuck, the relief that flooded my veins was unlike any I’ve ever experienced, and I owe the Fallen a debt that I doubt I’ll ever be able to repay. I would wonder how they knew, but they seem to know everything, so it’s no surprise really. I’m just grateful they took our side and got Iris away from my father. That I couldn’t is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I’m sitting in my father’s office while he issues orders to his men in Russian. He’s hitting the Shadows in other ways, trying to fuck up their business deals and having the police keep a very close eye on them, but I can see by the almost constant eye twitch of his it’s not enough. There’s a weight on my chest that tells me he’s looking for another way to hurt them and still hasn’t given up on getting Iris back.

I can’t understand it, his obsession with her. I knew there must have been something or some reason why he was so fixated on having her. More than just a debt to be paid, an object to be owned, and when she told me about him calling her by another woman’s name, I tried everything to find out who Anushka might be but came up with fuck all. She’s a mystery, and I’ve a feeling only my father knows who exactly she is and what she means to him.

My face cracks to the side, pain slicing up the side of my cheek and jaw.

“Nikolai!” he hisses, and my attention snaps back into the room, realising too late that he’d been talking to me and I’d zoned out. Stupid fucking idiot, taking your eyes off the apex predator in the room. “Did you hear my orders, you useless fucking waste of space?”

I grit my aching jaw, my nostrils flaring as I imagine, just for a second, taking the gun at my hip and blowing his fucking brains out. It would be too quick of a death and would sign my death warrant, but there would be satisfaction in ending him once and for all.

“I’m sorry, Father,” I grit out, straightening in my chair, Andrei and Dima shifting behind me.

He bares his teeth at me in a snarl that is reminiscent of a rabid dog. Fucking disgusting. “You’re to lead the team to blow up that little club of theirs. You and your men will set the bomb and make sure the whole of fucking London feels it. Next Saturday should work. Make sure you’re ready. Understood?”

I take in a deep inhale through my nostrils. He has no fucking care for any innocents that might get hurt. Saturday must be one of the busiest nights for Depravity, the Shadows’ club in Shoreditch. Plus that only gives me seven days to put everything in place.

I don’t know why his actions surprises me anymore. I know what type of monster he is. Yet a part of me still can’t believe the things he will do just because he can.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, taking his nod as a dismissal. I get up, turning and heading to the door, Dima in front and Andrei behind me. They’ve taken to trying to protect me from him, keep me safe from my own fucking father. I’d laugh if I hadn’t been living the reality for my whole life.

“Nikolai,” Sergi barks, my name a command to pay fucking attention. I pause, twisting to face him once more, Andrei shifting to the side, though not all the way, so he is still somewhat in front of me. “Don’t fuck this up. You won’t like my punishment if you do.”

His eyes drift to my men and I get his meaning loud and fucking clear. They will be the ones to suffer if I mess this up. I grit my teeth until pain shoots up the sides of my face. He knows they are a weakness of mine, that he can control me by threatening them. Fuck.

“Understood, sir. I won’t let you down,” I reply, the words burning as they leave my throat. I wish I could just end this, but I’m not ready yet. The party the other night allowed me to further my cause, sound out some of the bigwigs in attendance, but working with my father benefits them at the moment. I can’t offer them anything better. I need to first make it appear he’s not worth working with, tarnish him in the eyes of these corrupt men so they want him gone.

Easier said than done when the men in power all just want more power, more money, and more influence. None of my thoughts show on my face as I give my father a last nod and leave his office, heading to my wing where we can talk without fear of someone listening in. My steps falter when I pass by her room, her scent of honey and cocoa tickling my nose as if she’s just waiting on the other side of the door.

I’m fucking glad she isn’t. The hell she lived while she was here is something that I will never forgive myself for. Yet having her close after so long of having to be apart was the light of my day, and it makes me a bastard, but fuck do I miss her and some days wish she was here with me. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so fucking cold, so dead inside.

Heaving a sigh, I carry on past her door and walk into my room, Andrei shutting and locking the door behind him and Dima. I stand in the middle of the room, just breathing. The walls feel so close, my mind swirling with all the things that I need to somehow sort out but don’t know how yet.

The others leave me alone, knowing that when I get like this, I need space, time, and silence to bring together my thoughts.

“I have to warn Hunter. I can’t be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocents,” I muse aloud, knowing that the stain on my soul is already too dark. It can’t take something like that on top of all the other atrocities I’ve had to commit at the command of my father. “And if we can somehow use it to discredit him, without him knowing it was me or us that let the information slip, it might go some way to convincing his associates that he’s no longer capable of running the Bratva. We need to make them want to get rid of him so there is no backlash when the time comes for me to take his place.”

“We need to make your father think that one of his men is a rat, betraying him and leaking intel to the feds and the press. They were in the room just then. It wouldn’t take much to cast suspicion on one of them. Sergi is paranoid as fuck,” Andrei adds, and I’m nodding, a spark of something making my pulse quicken.

“So we make it seem that one of them is tipping off the Shadows and the pigs, but I think we still need to blow up their club so that he doesn’t think it’s me and punish you,” I tell them, bitterness coating my tongue. Hunter is going to fucking kill me, but we all have to play games, and this will be worth it in the long run. I have to believe that, otherwise I’ll go fucking mad. “Or…” I trail off, my mind whirring. “Or we make out that one of his men is ratting us out to the Volkovs, who’ve wanted to take London for themselves for a long fucking time. We set it up so it looks like the Volkovs are setting us up, making out like the Embassy is involved too, which will piss them off as they don’t want any public connection with us.”

I’m nodding, the threads weaving into a complicated tapestry, all leading to my father’s eventual downfall and removal from this earth. Only then will Iris be safe. Only then will I be free.

I’ve thought about just taking Sergi out, myself with him, but it seems I’m more like my father than I’d like to admit, because now that I know what having Iris feels like, I’m desperate to make that a full-time reality. I need her in my life like I need air, and if I’m gone, even without my father around anymore, how will I make sure she’s fully protected in this dark and dangerous world?

Sure, the Shadows care for her. Who am I kidding? They love her as much as I do. I’m not fucking stupid. I can see by the way they look at her, the way losing her was like an open wound, refusing to heal. She belongs to them as much as she belongs to me, and I might not like it—the idea of having to share her with Hunter especially makes me violent—however, when I vowed to do anything to make her happy and keep her safe, it was not an empty promise.

To fulfil it though, I need to be alive. I’m the only one I trust to keep her truly safe, even if I failed when she was here. I refuse to fail her again.

“I’ll send Hunter a message.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“BAD DECISIONS” BY BOBI ANDONOV

HUNTER

Unknown: At 0100 next Saturday, a bomb will go off in Depravity. I need you to keep it open that night but evacuate everyone by 1230 at the latest.

My teeth grind, my knuckles whitening as my hand grips my phone tightly when the text message comes through. Fucking Russian bastard, thinking he can blow up my club in six days time like I’ll just sit back and let him.

Hunter: Why the fuck do you think I’ll help you in any way? Not to mention let you blow up my fucking club?

Breaths pant out of my flared nostrils as I stare at the screen, at the dots, which tells me he’s replying.

Unknown: Because it will help to keep her safe in the long run.

Before I can snarl at the phone, knowing he’s got me by the balls even if I don’t understand the reasons behind his actions, more bubbles appear, followed by another message.

Unknown: Please. I need your help with this.

Huffing out a breath between my lips, I rub my free hand over my face as I sit all alone on our sofa. It’s the same one where I first felt her wrapped around my dick, Roman and Rowan with us.

Hunter: Fucking fine, but you owe me the cost of the refurb. And I’m only doing this for her. I still don’t fucking like you.

I know my grin is feral when his next message comes through.

Unknown: Deal. And I don’t fucking like you either, even if you’re my future husband-brother.

My mouth gapes as the grin slides from my lips.

Hunter: You won’t be my future anything, sweetheart.

I swear those fucking bubbles are going to wish they’d never been invented.

Unknown: Please. We all know you’re desperate to feel my pierced cock balls deep in your arse, Daddy.

A bark of laughter erupts from me at the same time a full-body shiver makes all the hair on my arms stand on end.

Hunter: Not. Fucking. Happening. It’s cute you think you can top from the bottom, but we both know that I’ll put you in your place like my other brats. And if you’re wondering where that is, it’s on your knees, sweetheart.

My eyes widen after I hit send. I didn’t just say that to Nikolai fucking Petrov, did I? I don’t even like the man, let alone want to fuck him, right? My dick twitches, calling me a fucking liar as those blasted bubbles are back.

Unknown: Whatever you need to think to sleep at night, Daddy.

Motherfucker.

A chuckle escapes me as I shut down the message thread, deleting it before opening up the group chat I have with the twins. I roll my eyes at the nicknames Roman has given us.

Big Daddy: I’ll need one of you with me next Saturday. Shit is going down at Depravity, courtesy of our eagle friend, and I need backup.

Evil Twin: I’ll be there. I’ll swap my shift with someone so Roman is still here. Things are fucked up.

I sigh, rubbing my gritty eyes with my hand. When they phoned me about having met Lilly Vanderbilt, telling me their suspicions that she’s being drugged, I wanted to storm that mansion and kill every fucker responsible. What the fuck kind of person drugs their own niece, especially when she’s pregnant? And why?

Evil Twin: Adrian has been sneaking into her room at night.

Bile fills my throat at the message. Rowan doesn’t have to elaborate. It doesn’t take a genius to work out why he’d be drugging her and then sneaking into her room at night. Twisted, sick fuck.

Sunshine Twin: I called Ash. She was hysterical, poor thing. He’s asked us to stay with her at all times, especially at night.

Big Daddy: Good. She stays in your sights until they get there.

I sigh, my mind swirling with images of Iris and another sick fuck taking what doesn’t belong to him. My phone buzzes with an incoming message from Asher, as if I summoned the demon himself, and I rub my face, knowing that this will add to my already heavy load.

Asher Vanderbilt: We’re going in tomorrow evening, Sunday. Have your guys ready. We’ll get Lilly, you detain the dead man walking.

Hunter: Will do. See you there.

Fuck.

What is it about everything happening at once? Saying no to helping the Knights was never an option, especially not after what happened with Iris and with Iris telling us in no uncertain terms that we would help them as much as they needed. I just wish things would ease up, just for once so I can fucking breathe.

Big Daddy: Looks like we’re breaking Lilly out tomorrow evening. Make sure the rest of security isn’t around. We need to minimise any casualties.

Sunshine Twin: It’s my day off tomorrow. I’ll come with you when you visit Iris, then head back for my evening shift.

Big Daddy: Okay. Then we’ll sort out Lilly and the Knights, then deal with the Depravity situation. We need to make sure everyone is evacuated before the bomb goes off, yet make it look like a coincidence.

My body already feels heavy with the weight that is on my shoulders, exhaustion leaving my eyes even more gritty as I start mentally planning what we’ll do tomorrow night and then Saturday.

Evil Twin: Maybe we have issues with the sewage? If it starts backing up, we’d have to empty out the club.

I’m nodding, about to agree when another message pops up.

Evil Twin: Then we all visit on Monday. I need to see her in the flesh.

Sunshine Twin: Thank fuck. At least that means we can all visit Iris together again. I’ve missed our puppy piles.

I huff a laugh at the same time my heart twinges, knowing exactly what he means and agreeing whole-fucking-heartedly. Some of the best moments of my entire life were spent in bed, Iris on top of me and the twins either side of me. All of us together. All of us safe.

He’s been watching the cameras at Serene Haven near enough every night he’s not on shift, barely sleeping, but I understand the obsession. I’ve been able to visit almost every day, see her and hold her, talk to her face-to-face. The twins have only got the odd visit in on their one day a week off, always alternated so Lilly isn’t left without them. That was at Iris’s insistence when she found out about the drugging before this latest shit.

Hunter: We have a plan. See you tomorrow.

Swiping out of the chat, I register the time as 4:25am and heave a sigh, knowing there’s no way I’ll be able to get to sleep. Hefting myself out of the comfy leather sofa that holds such wonderful memories, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and head towards the office.

I sit in the chair, wake up the monitor, and open the app that will show me Iris. Something inside me calms seeing her sleeping peacefully in bed, her blonde hair fanned out across her pillow, her chest rising and falling with her breaths.

Opening the water, I take a long sip as I drink her in, watching her every twitch, noting when her eyes move rapidly back and forth behind her closed lids, all the while wishing I was there to hold her and soothe the frown line between her delicate brows.

She wakes with a gasp, like she does every morning, and my stomach swoops to see the panic in her eyes before she remembers where she is and that she’s safe. It guts me, knowing that some part of her is still trapped in that fucking mansion with Sergi. My blood heats at the thought of the Bratva leader. He’s been messing with our shit, trying to undermine us at every turn and using his connections with the feds to shut down several of our operations. We’ve had to be more discreet and focus on our legitimate businesses while the heat is on us, which has caused a loss in revenue and puts our people at risk.

I blow out a frustrated breath, feeling the sun’s rays tickling my neck as Iris gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. I switch over to the bathroom camera Rowan installed, my eyes glued on her as she goes to the toilet, washes her hands, and then starts the shower.

It’s like the purest form of torture, watching her strip out of her cotton pyjamas, her stunning fucking body revealed to me slowly and making my dick harden in my sweats. Unable to help myself, my hand dips below my waistband and I pull my dick out, giving it a firm stroke as she gets in. Pleasure fizzles up my spine as steam fills the room, but the fan ensures I don’t have my view blocked for long. I continue to stroke myself in a punishing grip, playing with my tip as she glides soap-slicked hands over her delicious curves. Fuck, she’s so fucking sexy it makes pre-cum leak from my slit, and I use that to slick my hand, moving my fist faster and faster.

Lightning races up my nerves, my gaze fixed on her as my balls draw up and all my muscles tense.

“Fuck, Peaches!” I yell in a growl, cum spurting out of my dick and landing on my tense abs, my eyes still open and watching as she turns the shower off and reaches for a towel.

My chest heaves as the last of my release dribbles out of my tip, and I sink back into the chair, closing my eyes for a second just to let the euphoria wash over me. It’s not as good as when I’ve been balls deep inside her, but it’s taken the edge off.

An edge that was started by Nikolai fucking Petrov.

My spent dick twitches at the thought, and I glare down at it.

“You can fuck right off,” I tell him, reaching over and grabbing some tissue to wipe myself down.

Throwing the used tissues in the bin next to me, I focus back on Iris, following her as she cleans her face and then puts about a million products on it. A few days ago, she gave me a list of all the products she wanted, telling me she wants to get back into a skincare routine, whatever the fuck that is. She looked aghast when I told her I just used this peach kernel scrub and cocoa butter in the shower, spouting nonsense about it ruining my skin because apparently you shouldn’t use a physical exfoliator, whatever that means.

The routine seems to bring her some comfort, and I can understand the need to bring order to the chaos in your life. So I will get her more when she runs out and may have even started using some products of my own, which have left my face feeling pretty fucking soft. It also makes me feel close to her when she’s so far away.

She finishes up with brushing her teeth, then heads back into the bedroom and gets dressed in leggings and one of my T-shirts, which has my chest heating. As much as I love watching her on the cameras though, I want to see her in the flesh, so I close the app and lock the screen, heading to get ready and grab some more of my clothes to give to her.

“LET IT ALL GO” BY RHODES

IRIS

I shake off the feeling of eyes watching me as I make my way to the dining hall for breakfast, Rufus following me like he does every morning. I’ve now met Joe. He escorted me last night when I met Johnny in the dining hall for a midnight snack. There’s been several nights where I couldn’t sleep, and apparently Johnny suffers from restless nights sometimes too, so we have an unspoken deal that we will head to the dining hall when we can’t and share snacks while drinking hot chocolate. Over those sleepless nights, I’ve found the confidence to confess some of what happened to me at the Petrov mansion, and Johnny has sat there, holding me while I let it all go. It’s been cathartic, telling someone who understands some of what I went through.

And those nights usually end with me feeling lighter, especially as Johnny has made it his mission to not only capture the heart of Rufus but also Joe, who apparently sets his Gaydar off too. I’d feel sorry for the two hulking Shadows because I can only imagine Johnny is a handful, but I’ve seen the way both men cast glances his way when he’s not looking. He has them by the balls and they don’t seem mad about it at all.

When I mentioned it to Hunt, he grumbled he didn’t want them distracted as they’re meant to be focused on me. He suggested he might swap them out for some of the other guys, to which I replied that if he removed them, I would refuse his visits. That shut him up pretty fast, even though both of us knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. His daily visits are the highlight of my day, even if the secret that I’m holding in my womb feels like it’s growing bigger by the day. I mean, it is. That’s what babies do after all, but I haven’t decided what to do about it yet. The thought of keeping it leaves me feeling nauseous, but equally, the idea of getting rid of this innocent baby leaves me trembling and almost in tears.

I find Johnny missing at our usual table, then remember he had an early session with Julia, so I grab myself some pastries, a fruit salad, and some tropical juice before taking my seat. I’m just about to sip my juice when someone walks in, and my stomach swoops just like it does when you’re on a rollercoaster about to free fall.

I haven’t seen Ember Everly in years, not since I got sent to Wyndham’s and she went off to college. I take her in as she looks around, body tense and her fingers clasped together in front . A pang runs through me at how fragile she looks and knowing that her being here can’t be anything good. It means she’s experienced something that no person should have to, and it breaks my heart even as a part of me is happy to see her face after all this time.

“Ember?” I call out softly, and her head spins in my direction, her eyes widening as she takes me in.

“Iris?” she replies, her brows furrowing as she stares back at me. My cheeks flush, knowing that I must look very different from when she last saw me. Gone is my beloved Boho style, replaced with an oversized hoodie that belongs to Roman and leggings. I just want to be comfy, and what I wear isn’t high on my priority list right now, although maybe that’s something I should look at—reclaiming my style again.

“Hey,” I reply, getting up from my seat and slowly approaching her. I stop in front of her, both of us knowing that the other is here because things have gone to shit, but neither of us wanting to say it out loud.

“Hi,” she answers, nibbling her lower lip as she glances down and then back up. “Long time, huh?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“BRAVE” BY RILEY PEARCE

IRIS

Inod, swallowing, an empty feeling in my stomach. “It’s been too long really. I–I’m sorry we lost touch after school.”

“Me too.” She nibbles her lip again, then takes a deep inhale, as if coming to some sort of decision. “Can I join you?” She points to the table I was sitting at and a smile tugs my lips upwards. We used to spend hours together, confessing all our dreams, secret crushes, and hopes for the future. I’ve missed having a girlfriend to do that with.

“I’d really love that,” I reply, my breath leaving me on an almost sigh.

“Fab. I’ll just get something to eat and come over.”

I walk back to my table while she grabs some pastries that are also on my plate, as well as a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. That girl always had taste. She brings them over, placing them next to mine, and then sits down, wincing as she makes contact with the seat. I have to swallow hard, trying not to let the pain of suspecting what might have caused that reaction show on my face.

“So, how was finishing school?” she asks, and I can’t help wrinkling my nose, a small laugh falling from her lips.

“It was…boring as fuck, to be honest.” We both chuckle. “They had us learning all about setting up dinner parties, being the most gracious hostess, and how to run a household.” She grimaces and I can’t blame her. It’s very old-school, and she knows I had dreams of setting up a fashion brand, not settling down and becoming a housewife. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I’m pretty sure raising children must be the hardest job in the world, but I always wanted something else, and it was hard to be denied my free choice. Just another thing to add to the list of unforgivable shit my dad did, I guess. “How was college?”

She takes a sip of her orange juice. “It was good…but then Dad took me out.”

My brows shoot up. That seems unusual. Her dad was all about getting a decent education, even if he was pretty distant with her after her mum died.

“Dad remarried, and they thought it best that they homeschooled me with my stepbrothers.” She looks down and I glance down too, seeing that her fingers have pulled apart the rest of the croissant. Brushing the flakes of pastry off her fingertips, she glances up and huffs a laugh, no doubt at the burning curiosity in my expression, which I’m clearly not hiding well. “Four older stepbrothers, to be exact.” My eyebrows shoot up, remembering the time when we were teens. I went through a phase of being obsessed with romance books between step-siblings. Oh, just ask, Iris.

“Are they hot?” I blurt out, then cover my mouth with a gasp, unbelieving that of all things I could ask her, this is what chooses to come out of my mouth. She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help the way it’s infectious and has me giggling too.

“The most gorgeous men I’ve ever met,” she tells me, biting her lower lip as her cheeks flush a rosy colour. She pauses for a second, taking a deep inhale, then shrugs as if to say ‘fuck it.’ “They, that is, we, are together. They are everything to me. I’m not sure how I would have coped with Dad passing and…everything, if not for them.”

My lowered brows replace my initial surprise at her confession, and I reach out and grip her hand, hearing the pain in her words. “I’m sorry about your dad, Ember.” Squeezing her hand, tears prick both our eyes. “I know he was important to you.”

“Thanks,” she whispers before clearing her throat. “How’s your dad?”

I feel my entire face shutting down at her innocent question. It’s normal for her to ask. She knew I was close to my dad, that he doted on me.

“He…” I trail off and swallow, then close my eyes and just focus on breathing for a few moments, trying to not let the pain of everything that’s happened since the day I got his pathetic apology text message overwhelm me. “He left.”

I can’t stop the slight tremble that takes over my body. I want to tell her everything, but I’m not sure if I’m quite ready to give all the sordid details yet.

“You don’t need to talk about it, Iris,” she assures me, but I shake my head, opening my eyes. I feel the moisture that clings to my lashes as a lump forms in my throat.

“I want to, need to get it out, otherwise it’ll fester. That’s what Dr Michaels, Julia, says anyway,” I rasp, taking another inhale, my fingers gripping hers tightly like she’s my anchor right now. “It’s complicated.” I laugh, but it’s painful sounding, not joyous, and hurts on the way past my throat. “He sold me to the Russian mafia for a business debt.”

“That’s…” She’s lost for words, her mouth opening and closing, and I can’t blame her. I would be too if someone just told me their dad sold them like a piece of fucking furniture.

“Fucked up? Yep,” I say, but then a small smile tugs my lips upwards as I remember the silver lining in all this. Well, one of them anyway. “But Nikolai was there, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“Nikolai, Sergi’s son?” she questions, and I recall all the times I bored her with talking about him when we were kids and how obsessed I was as a young teen. God, I used to blush so fucking hard when I confessed how much I watched him. “The good-looking one?”

I chuckle. “Yes, that one. He…helped me, then got me away, took me to Hunter and his Shadows.” My cheeks flush at the mention of Hunter, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. What are the odds that we’d both be in some kind of poly relationship?

“You been messing with the Shadowman?” she teases, and we both giggle. We used to love watching Disney films together on Sunday afternoons, uncaring if that made us look uncool to the rest of the rich brats of our high school. “You knew them from before though, something to do with Hunter’s sister?”

“Willow, yes, I helped her get away after…” I don’t finish, looking away for a moment and wondering if I’d known about Serene Haven back then, whether I would have suggested it to Willow. It also hits me that now Willow and I have something else in common, aside from loving Hunter, and I fucking hate it. Why do women have to be at the mercy of cruel men so fucking often? Why can’t we live without fear of them taking without asking first? “Anyway, Nikolai took me there and they kept me safe.” My eyes slam shut and my lips tremble, trying to not let that awful night when Sergi took me overwhelm me as it so often does. Although, I suppose it’s better than the many nights that followed. They are the memories that keep me up. My hand, not in Ember’s grasp, floats down to my stomach, brushing the flat surface over the top of my hoodie, my mind swirling. “Until the Russians found me again.”

She reaches over to take my hand from my stomach, holding and squeezing them both. Hot tears pool in my eyes, knowing deep in my gut that we’ve experienced some of the same pain at the hands of others. That we both have scars which may never fully heal, trauma that will haunt us for years, if not for the rest of our lives.

“My stepbrothers couldn’t save me either,” she confesses, and my eyes open, tears falling down my cheeks. “Couldn’t s–stop what happened.”

“Oh, Ember.”

Then I pull her to me, and we’re crying and trembling in each other’s arms, letting out all the anguish at a world that would allow such terrible things to happen to innocent women who just wanted to find love and be loved in return.

Ember and I are still catching up when Johnny strolls in, pressing a kiss on Rufus’s cheek on his way past, which has the inked-up gangster flushing like a schoolgirl.

“You really are mean to him,” I say as he approaches our table, his eyes on Ember and a smug smile tilting his plush lips.

“Just warming him up. Joe too.” My eyebrows raise as he gives me a salacious wink. “I’m Johnny, by the way,” he says to Ember, holding his hand out to her.

She looks curious, but takes it anyway, giggling when he presses a light kiss on her knuckles as he bows over her hand. “Ember. I thought they didn’t mix us up? Men and women, I mean.”

“Well, I’m special,” he tells her, taking a seat and swiping a pastry off my plate. Little shit. “And I get on much better this side. Plus, I’m as gay as they come, so pose no threat to the lovely ladies here. You’re all beautiful, but lacking between the legs, no offence.”

Both Ember and I laugh at that. “Fair enough,” she replies, looking around and catching sight of the clock on the wall. “It’s time for my first session. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine. Julia is lovely,” I tell her as we both get up and I give her a hug. “We’ll see you after for yoga, okay?”

“See you then. Nice to meet you, Johnny,” she says, giving him a smile before heading back towards the exit. I watch as she passes Rufus, but she doesn’t flinch away or react to his presence, which is a relief. I’ve been keeping an eye, making sure no one is bothered, and they aren’t, even if he still looks rough, pink scrubs or not.

“Friend of yours?” Johnny asks, and I turn my attention back to him.

“We went to school together. Before she went to college and I went to finishing school,” I reply, barking a laugh when his eyes widen as his head draws back.

“Hang on a fuck. Bitch, you went to finishing school?” he asks, his tone almost offended. “How did I not know about this?”

I spend the next forty-five minutes telling him all the gossip about Wyndham’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, both of us crying with laughter as I do impressions of my snooty teachers and headmistress.

Then we head to our yoga class, where we find Ember. Her eyes are red, but she gives us a weak smile and laughs when Johnny goes up to her and pulls her in for a tight hug.

“You’ve got this, hun. You are a bad bitch who will not let those cunts win, okay?” he says vehemently, pulling away enough to look into her eyes. “And you have the best fucking friends now, so you’ll never be alone.”

Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears, but she nods.

“Good. Plus, I hear you’re banging four hot guys, who are also your stepbrothers, so I will need all the dirty, juicy details soon. No holding out. I need to live vicariously through you and Iris over here until I get my own little harem going.”

She cuts me a look and I shrug my shoulders, mouthing an apology to her. She just huffs a laugh, shaking her head, letting Johnny lead us to our favourite spot by the window.

I lose myself in my practice, letting my mind empty as I work my body through the poses until I’m a hot, sweaty mess. I love it, and it’s something that I plan to continue with even once I’ve left here.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower and then head to the garden room to wait for Hunt,” I tell Ember and Johnny. “I’ll send Rufus to find you once Hunt’s here, okay?”

“You best do. I have plans,” Johnny says, kissing both my cheeks before literally skipping off toward his own room, which is on the other side of the ladies’ rooms.

“He’s really something,” Ember muses as we walk to our side of the manor, and I chuckle.

“He’s the best. Sometimes can be overwhelming, but I love it,” I tell her, my heart swelling with the thought of my new friend. “He’s like a ray of sunshine on a dark, miserable day. Stops me from getting lost in my head most days too.”

“Yeah, I can totally see that,” she answers as we walk up the staircase, Rufus trailing behind us. “So, is he one of yours?” She points to Rufus with her thumb, who snorts a laugh.

“He’s my protection and here because Hunt insists. We don’t know if Sergi will try to take me again, so better safe than sorry,” I tell her, and she pauses me at the top of the stairs, her hand on my arm. When we were eating breakfast, I told her that Sergi was the one to take me from the Shadows, that I was with him for several weeks until they got me back. I didn’t elaborate on his treatment of me, but I’m pretty sure she could tell from the way my hands trembled that he was the one to hurt me.

“If you’re in danger or if your guys need any more help, just let me know, okay? Maybe my brothers can help.”

I give her a smile, placing my hand on top of hers and giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you, Ember. I’m sorry you’re here, but I’m also so fucking happy to see you again.”

“Me too, Iris,” she says, and we continue down the hall. We get to my room first, and she gives me a quick hug before she makes her way to her room down the hall.

“I’ll be quick,” I tell Rufus, who gives me a nod and settles opposite my door, his hand clasped together in front of him, his legs in a wide stance. “Could you be any more of a bodyguard?”

As I turn and open my door with the key I was given the first day here, he laughs, and I shut it softly behind me. My heart skips a beat as I think about seeing Hunter again, even though I just saw him yesterday. It really is the highlight of my day, even better when one twin comes along too.

A flare of heat lights up my core, thinking about my own plans for this visit. I’ve been talking to Julia, telling her that some of my dreams aren’t bad. Some are, in fact, very good and involve the men whose touch I’ve been missing. She suggested that if I felt ready, I could gently experiment with what kinds of touch I might be able to handle. That I could try focusing on the differences between my men and Sergi, which also may help me reclaim that part of myself.

But first, a shower is needed.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“ULTRAVIOLET” BY FREYA RIDINGS

IRIS

My breath catches as I pause in the doorway of the garden room, spotting not one Shadow but two.

“Ro!” I gasp, rushing over to him and throwing my arms around his neck, tension I didn’t know I was carrying releasing from my muscles. It’s been a few days since I saw him last, but it felt like a fucking lifetime.

“Hey, Princess,” Roman replies, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in the crook of my neck, breathing deeply. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Ro,” I whisper back, taking a deep inhale of his lavender, peppermint, and lemon scent, drawing it deep into my lungs. “How’s Lilly?”

He stiffens, and my brows furrow as I pull back slightly so I can look at his face. Then he sighs. “She’s okay. There was an incident with her uncle the other night, but she spoke to Ash and we’ve been keeping watch over her twenty-four seven.”

I swallow hard, reading between his words, my heartbeat thrashing inside my chest. “What kind of incident, Ro?”

Pain enters his eyes, moisture stinging mine as his eyebrows dip. “She woke up with him in bed with her.” My heart falters, shock parting my lips. “Nothing happened, and she broke the fucker’s nose, but she was pretty shook.”

“Oh, poor thing,” I croak, knowing the terror she must have felt firsthand. I push down those nightmares though, not wanting them to taint this moment. “I’m glad you guys are there for her. That must be reassuring.”

“We’re getting her out this evening,” Hunt announces, coming over and pressing up against my back, which stiffens at his words. “The Knights are making their move, and we will detain the uncle while they get Lilly. It’s low-risk, Peaches, three against one, which will then be eight against one. We’ll be fine.”

I let out an exhale, pulling his arms around me. “I’m glad she’s finally going to be getting out of that situation, and I’m so proud of you guys for being the ones to help her. I’ll still worry, but I’m grateful it’s you.”

Hunt presses a kiss to my temple, Roman matching him on the other side as we stand there, breathing each other in for a few moments. Inhaling for some courage to help bolster my confidence for what I’m about to do, I straighten up.

“I want to take you somewhere more…private,” I say, Roman’s lips twitching and Hunt pulling away enough that I can step out from between them. I immediately miss their warmth, but my plan will see me between them again soon enough.

Taking Hunt and Ro’s hands in mine, I lead us out of the door to one of the private visitor rooms. Ideally, I’d prefer to take the guys to my room, but we’re not allowed any visitors upstairs. The day of my settling in was an exception. The room we enter is lovely though, with French doors leading outside into the sunshine, the garden a riot of colour beyond the glass and transparent thin cotton curtains. There are refreshments; fresh juice, delicious pastries, and baked goods. Plenty of seating options are available, including a daybed full of soft cushions, which is where I head to.

Butterflies swirl in my stomach, the skin of my hands sensitive to their every touch as I sit down, Hunter on one side and Roman on the other.

“What’s up, Peaches?” Hunter asks once we’re seated, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in such a tender gesture that the back of my eyes sting a little. I look into his sparkling green eyes, concern shining bright in them, his brows wrinkled.

“I want to try something with you. Both of you,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “If–if that’s okay?”

“Sure. We’re here for whatever you need, darling,” he tells me, his thumb stroking my cheek like the soft caress of the warm spring sun after a harsh winter. I can’t help nuzzling into the touch, absorbing the warmth, letting it give me strength.

My gaze traces the planes of his beautiful face, taking in every detail as if for the first time. I’m focusing on the differences between him and Sergi, letting my brain really absorb them. Where Sergi is clean-shaven, Hunter has dark scruff covering his jaw. Not quite a beard, but certainly not smooth. His nose is straight, almost like some kind of Roman statue. Sergi’s was a little thicker. Hunt’s lips are full and plush, made for kisses. Sergi’s were thin and always in a scowl or sneer.

Slowly, I close the distance between us, inhaling Hunt’s rosemary and mint smell, letting it calm the racing of my heart and the riot of butterflies that are now fluttering in my stomach. I keep my eyes open as I place my lips against his. Even if I’m too close to really focus on much, I need to see that it’s him. Neither of us are breathing as our lips touch, and it’s hardly even a caress, but electricity still shoots through me at the light contact.

Without thought, my tongue darts out, licking his lips, and he groans, low and deep, his hand clenching mine in a tight grip that is also helping to anchor me in this moment. His fingers twitch against my cheek, but he doesn’t tighten them or use his grip to pull me closer. Instead, he lets me take complete control, something he’s never given me before, and it makes my head spin.

His lips part slightly, and finally, having the confidence to close my eyes, I firmly press mine against them. It’s like this is our first kiss, like coming home and knowing that once the door is locked, nothing can get to you. I can feel every place our lips touch, my nerves on fire from the simple contact, my breathing practically nonexistent. Releasing Ro’s hand, I bring my palm up and tangle my fingers in Hunt’s hair, bringing him closer to me as my tongue enters his mouth, licking inside it as a small whimper sounds in my throat.

Heat flares hot and bright in my core, and I could cry with relief at the fact that I’m not fully broken. That I can still experience this pleasure with the men I love. Hunt’s tongue dances with mine, each stroke building the fire inside me until I feel like I might burn from the inside out.

I pull back with a gasp, just enough to look into Hunt’s hooded eyes and blown pupils.

“Ro?” I breathe out, my voice husky but sure, my eyes still locked with Hunt’s.

“Yes, Princess?” Ro responds from behind me, his voice so deep it sends shivers across my skin, lighting me up as if he just touched me all over. His warmth is solid at my back, not quite touching, but I can feel him like a roaring fire behind me.

“Will you unzip my hoodie, please?” I ask, my heart hammering inside my chest like a bird smashing against her cage. It’s one of his hoodies, a deep sky blue with a graffiti pattern that still smells like him. Hunt has been making sure to replenish my stock of all their clothes so that I have them with me even if it’s not in person.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Ro says, his hands coming to the front of me while I keep holding Hunt’s hand and his face.

The sound of the zipper is like gunfire in the quiet of dawn, and Hunt’s eyes dip downward, watching the material part with unwavering attention. His chest is still, mine is too, neither of us breathing as Roman exposes me to the warm air of the room.

“Fuck, Peaches,” he shudders out, his warm breath brushing against my face once Roman is finished. I wore one of my lace bralettes, a bright turquoise colour and something Sergi never would have chosen for me. It’s the first step to reclaiming myself back from him. “You are so fucking beautiful it blows my damn mind.”

A flush creeps over my skin, heating me up even further.

“He never gave me any pleasure, never let me feel anything other than pain,” I confess in a barely there whisper. Hunt’s head snaps up, Roman going still behind me. “Nik used to come in afterwards and help me forget, but—” My breath hitches and I have to close my eyes, breathing in slowly, then exhaling. “I could still feel him. His touch has branded me, inside and out.”

Tears sting my eyes, making Hunt waver in my vision.

“How can we help, baby?” Ro asks, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

I swallow, licking my lips. “I need to show my mind, convince my body that touch doesn’t equal pain. That I’m no longer in that mansion.” I hold Hunt’s gaze, my body trembling with a mix of terror and excitement. Terror that what I’m about to do will set me back, excitement that maybe I’ll be able to overcome what was done to me. “I’d like you to hold me, Ro, while Hunt gives me pleasure with his fingers. Sergi never did that, used his fingers I mean, so I think that’s a good place to start?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“CONSTELLATIONS - PIANO VERSION” BY JADE LEMAC

IRIS

“That’s the best place to start,” Hunter says, his voice soft as he releases my hand and cheek. “Can we take the hoodie off?”

I lower my hand from his face, shrugging out of the garment.

“What about the cameras?” Roman asks, toeing off his boots and settling back on the daybed. I look over my shoulder at him, nibbling my lips.

“They’re not turned on. I spoke to Julia this morning, told her I wanted to reclaim things, and she assured me they’d be off while you guys are here,” I admit, my cheeks flaring with heat as he smirks at me, a blond brow raised.

“So you planned to seduce us all along, did you, darling?” he teases, opening his arms in an obvious gesture for me to snuggle into them.

“Maybe,” I reply, shuffling until my back hits the heat of his chest. He’s only in a black T-shirt, with it being warm outside today, but I can feel the heat of his body flowing into mine even through the layer of fabric. My eyes close in bliss, a soft exhale falling from my lips at the comfort. “Are you complaining?”

“Never,” he whispers, brushing his lips across the bare skin on my shoulder, shivers tickling my skin from his touch. “Though I wouldn’t mind a taste of those lips, if that’s okay?”

His fingers come around to cup my jaw, turning my head to the side as he leans over my shoulder. Our eyes meet, and there’s a world of feeling in his brown eyes that used to be full of so much laughter but now have an edge of sadness in them which dims their light. I don’t answer him with words. Instead, I close the small distance between our lips, brushing mine against his in a soft caress that devastates me all the same.

“I love you, Ro,” I breathe against his lips, both our eyes still open, even though we’re too close to really focus on each other properly.

“Fuck, Princess. I love you so much it consumes me,” he answers, teasing my lips with every word. My hand comes up and wraps around his wrist, using it as an anchor as our lips meet again, this time not parting.

It’s like walking on a sunny beach, the gentle breeze kissing your skin as the sun warms your skin. Kissing Roman is so much more than a meeting of skin. It’s pure sunshine and I greedily deepen it, my eyes closing as I inhale his scent, letting him ground me in the here and now.

His deep moan fills the room, his hand flexing against my jaw as he dives into my mouth, licking and sucking, our tongues meeting over and over again. The cushions underneath us shift as Hunt moves closer, his fingers trailing fire across the tops of my breasts, leaving me gasping and breaking away from Roman.

“Can I take these off?” Hunt asks, his fingers tickling at the waistband of my leggings. Wordlessly, my chest heaving, I nod and watch him as he curls his fingers in the material, slowly dragging them and my matching lace knickers down my legs. His gaze fixes on the space between my thighs, which are open and trembling with the effort not to shut them. “Shit, baby. Just look at that pretty pink pussy.”

Lightning races across my skin at his words, at the admiration in his gaze.

“You are perfection,” Roman purrs into my ear, the fingers of his hand dropping from my jaw and trailing to the strap on my shoulder, playing with it. “Can I touch you too, angel?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe out, my eyes on Hunt as Ro pushes the strap down and exposes my breast to the air. My nipple pebbles, not from being out but from the hunger in Hunt’s gaze as he takes me in, his stare like a flame that burns where it lands.

Ro’s fingers track down my skin, circling my nipple and tightening it further before he closes his hand around my breast and squeezes. A moan leaves both our lips, my eyelids drooping with the spark of pleasure that zings through me.

I watch with a hooded gaze as Hunt strokes up my leg, from ankle to my thigh, his touch making my skin tingle with anticipation. His gaze flits from my face to where he touches, always checking my reaction, and his care makes me love him more than I even knew was possible. He’s ensuring I’m okay with what is happening, and I know that both of them will stop if I give the word.

But I don’t want to stop. I want them to keep touching me because it feels exquisite and so opposite to what Sergi forced upon me. There’s no question that I’m here with them and not back in that awful mansion with him.

“Keep your eyes open, okay, Peaches?” Hunter asks me in a gentle command, his emerald orbs boring into mine with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs. “I want you to watch what we’re doing so you stay here with us.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I whisper, and the growl that rumbles from his chest when I call him that has wetness seeping from my core.

“Such a good girl for us,” Ro praises in my ear, his other hand coming up to expose my other breast, both hands now playing with them, teasing my nipples.

My back arches as Hunter settles on his knees between my splayed thighs. His gaze is fixed on my face, absorbing my every reaction as his fingers play with the skin on my upper thighs, getting closer to where I’m becoming desperate for him to touch. Ro nibbles my neck, pleasure shooting from his touch until it forms a ball of need inside me.

“Please, Daddy,” I beg, unable to help the plea from falling from my lips. “Please touch me.”

“As you beg so prettily, baby,” Hunt replies, a single digit lightly brushing over my clit.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

My hips jerk upwards, that one touch almost enough to have me coming all over his hand. He smirks, like he knows how close I am and enjoys the fact that he can get me there so quickly.

“Normally I’d edge you, make you wait until tears run down your face as you beg me to let you come,” he tells me, his gaze still locked on mine. A small whimper escapes me and his smile grows positively devilish. “But just this once, you are allowed to come when you need to.”

With no warning whatsoever, he pinches my clit hard and I scream as an orgasm hits me so fucking forcefully my entire body goes rigid. My nails dig into Ro’s skin, my head thrown back as my eyes close with the sheer pleasure that courses through me. It’s made all the sweeter because it’s them giving it to me, and maybe, after everything that’s happened, I appreciate it all the more because the whole thing is consensual. We played with consensual non-consent before I was taken and I loved it, having the choice taken from me. I don’t know if I will enjoy that kind of sex again, but having this is a start on my road to recovery.

My eyelids flutter open as I relax back into Roman’s arms, his hands stroking me as I once again lock gazes with Hunter.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I say, my voice breathy and tears stinging my eyes as gratitude floods through me. His entire face softens as he leans forward, his lips brushing my temple in a trembling kiss.

“Thank you, Iris. For trusting me, trusting us, with this.” He kisses me again, then pulls back so he can look into my eyes. “Now, why don’t we explore how many more times we can make you come before our visit is up.”

It’s not a question, it’s a command, though I appreciate him giving me an out if I really need it. I pause, taking stock of my body and my mind. I’m full of a soft glow, untainted by trauma like it was every time with Nik. My core tightens, letting me know that I’m okay and ready for more.

“Can you try with your fingers inside?” I ask, blinking at him as my cheeks heat. I’ve never asked for these sorts of things before, but if the way that his gaze turns feral is the reaction I’ll get, I might have to do it from now on.

“Fuck, Princess, the way you shyly ask him to finger fuck you,” Ro groans behind me, flexing his hips so I can feel how hard he is, how much this is turning him on.

“Your wish is my command, Peaches,” Hunt replies, his voice so low it’s like the rumble of rocks before they come crashing down a hillside.

“FAHRENHEIT” BY AZEE

HUNTER

I keep my gaze trained on her flushed face as my fingers delve back between her sweet thighs, the scent of her arousal filling the space between us until I think I might go mad. My cock strains behind my jeans, painful with how engorged it is, but I will not free it, not until she commands me to. This is about her and her recovery, her pleasure after weeks of suffering.

My fingers glide between her slick folds, a deep hum sounding in my chest at just how wet she is, at how responsive she is to my touch. Her hips are already moving, urging me to where she wants me, and a smile pulls my lips up. Knowing that she’s desperate for my touch is better than pretty much anything else in this world bar from being buried inside her.

Gently, painstakingly slowly, I glide one finger inside her, almost coming in my fucking jeans from how wet and warm she is. The way her inner walls wrap around my finger, trying to pull me deeper, has sweat beading along my spine. Fuck. This is the best kind of torture, and I’d gladly suffer it for all eternity if I could watch her face twist into the picture of beautiful agony that scrunches up her features right now.

“Does it feel good, his finger inside you, Princess?” Ro asks, his voice gravelly and showing signs of the strain we’re both feeling. “How about if he adds another? Will your greedy pussy suck them inside?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please, Hunt,” she moans, her gaze dropping to where my finger glides inside her. I add a second as instructed, and her cunt clamps down on them both, just as Roman said it would.

“She’s almost strangling them like the good girl she is,” I rasp, moving my fingers in and out of her heat, imagining it’s my cock she’s wrapped around.

“That’s because she’s our perfect, beautiful Princess,” Roman coos, and she pulses around my fingers, her hips moving as she seeks another release. Goddamn.

I’ve missed this more than I can say. Not just the sex, but the closeness it brings between us. The way she trusts me, us, with her body and pleasure, and I fucking hated that he stole it from us, from her. It’s one thing on my very long list that I will seek retribution for.

“Hunt— I— Fuck, ” she cuts herself off, her body thrashing as I pump faster, harder, watching to make sure it’s not too much too soon, but her words and body tells me she’s more than enjoying this.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me, beautiful,” I encourage, using my thumb to rub circles against her engorged clit as I pump in and out of her.

Her back arches as her body stiffens, her head thrown back and her lips open in a soundless scream as another orgasm rips through her. She’s fucking exquisite in her pleasure, and we are her captive audience as she takes it and gifts us with the best view in the whole fucking world.

I work her through it, not stopping until she’s whimpering, her hands trying to push mine away from her soaked core. Normally I wouldn’t allow her to, pushing for one more, forcing the pleasure on her body until tears streak her face, but I’m taking it slowly, not wanting to rush her or send her spiralling back into the abyss that she’s dragging herself out of.

So, reluctantly, I pull my fingers from her body, waiting until her eyes open, her pupils all hazy as they focus on me. Only then do I lick up my fingers, the sweet taste of her bursting on my tongue and making my hard dick pulse.

“Save some for me, Daddy?” Roman asks from behind her, and I tear my gaze away from Iris’s, finding him looking at my hand with a ravenous hunger, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Shall I give him some of your sweet nectar?” I ask her, my gaze darting to her face, an eyebrow raised. She nods, clearly unable to speak, which makes the beast in me purr with satisfaction. We did that to her.

Slowly, I extend my arm, holding my hand right above her shoulder and just in front of Roman’s lips. He reaches forwards with his face, his arms still wrapped around Iris, and I watch with hooded eyes as his wet tongue makes contact with my fingers. He sucks the digit into his hot mouth with a groan, taking me down to the knuckle and gagging slightly.

Fuck.

I watch, barely breathing, as he sucks and licks both fingers clean, only pulling away when there’s no trace of her left on them.

“Good boy,” I praise, and he swallows hard, his nostrils flaring as his blown pupils lock on mine.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he rasps back, and my jaw works as I have to physically stop myself from launching at him and fucking him with her between us.

“Have you guys…” her soft voice trails off, and I switch my focus back to her, knowing what she was asking.

“No. It didn’t feel right, not while you weren’t there, Peaches,” I tell her, recalling the days without her like a knife to the fucking soul. I’m not sure it’s a wound that will ever heal, and the memory of it is enough to dampen my arousal.

“I’m here now,” she whispers, and my eyes widen as her meaning becomes clear, lust washing over my body like a tidal wave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“ONE OF THE GIRLS BY THE WEEKEND WITH JENNIE, LILY ROSE DEPP

ROMAN

Holy shit.

Those three words of hers pulse over me, and my eyes flick to Hunt’s, seeing the pure, unadulterated lust in his eyes, almost eliminating the green of his irises.

“Are you sure, Princess? We don’t want to push things too far,” I whisper against her, tightening my grip around her body as I hug her. I can’t help taking a deep inhale, filling my lungs with her cocoa scent. I’ll never get enough, and to have her back in my arms, even though it’s time limited, it’s like fucking Christmas came early.

“I’m sure. I want to watch you pleasure each other. Maybe…” she pauses, and I look at the side of her face to find her biting her plush lower lip.

“Maybe what, Peaches?” Hunt asks, and she releases the abused flesh.

“Maybe you could kneel in front of me and jerk each other off while I watch?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Her words are like a lightning bolt, striking me right on the dick and making it weep.

“We could do that,” I say roughly, and she sits up, letting me slide out from behind her. Then she scoots back until she’s in the position I was, her back against the side of the daybed.

I pause when I spot her swollen pink pussy, glistening and wet with the two orgasms she just had. Fuck me.

“Up here, Baby Boy,” Hunt demands, his tone sending a full-body shiver pebbling my skin. I glimpse Iris straightening before I turn my head to face Hunt, who’s on his knees, his jeans tight over the bulge of his hard dick.

He’s fucking stunning, all power and so full of alpha energy I want to bow down and worship him like a god. Blinking, I follow his order, shuffling on my knees until I’m facing him, our bodies angled slightly so as not to obstruct Iris’s view.

“You’re both so beautiful,” she whispers, and I cast a glance over at her to see her lips parted as her gaze roves over us both. Everywhere she looks, her eyes light up, like a torch that sheds light on all my dark places.

“Undo your jeans, baby,” Hunt commands, his tone gruff and brokering no argument. “Pull yourself out and show her that stunning cock.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

My fingers fumble as I do as he demands, the sound of the buckle from my leather belt loud in the hushed room. Pushing my jeans and boxers down my thighs, my dick springs free, bobbing at the attention it’s getting from them both.

“Now take me out.” Hunt’s voice is a harsh rasp, and I look at him to find him swallowing as his gaze fixes on my dick. Pre-cum beads at the tip of me, sliding down my head, but I don’t wipe it away. He’s not said I can touch myself yet, and I know from experience that if I don’t follow his orders, he won’t let me come.

With trembling hands, I reach out and pop each button of his black jeans, exposing the large bulge in his Calvin Kleins that has my mouth watering. Today isn’t the day to choke on his dick, but fuck me, I want to. Badly. Slowly, teasing myself as much as Hunt and Iris, I push his jeans down his hips. Then I go to the waistband of his boxers, pulling those down until his rock-hard cock juts out from his body, his pubic piercing glinting in the sunlight that filters into the room.

“Come closer, baby, until we’re touching,” Hunt commands, and I shuffle until our dicks brush, the feeling sending another full-body shudder over my skin. Jesus, I’m going to embarrass myself if I’m not careful. “Now, I’m going to grip both our dicks while you keep your hands at your sides so our girl can watch how much of a slut you are for me. You will not come until she says you can. Understood?”

Iris and I inhale sharply, a whimper of pure need sounding in the back of my throat as my head nods.

“Yes, Daddy,” I reply, the words barely a whisper, but I’m too worked up to speak any louder.

“Good boy,” he praises just as his large hand wraps around both our dicks, and my entire body jerks.

Shit.

Fuck.

My hands clench at my sides as he squeezes, choking my dick in his fist, and I have to work my jaw not to come all over his fingers. My eyelids flutter, my head tilting back at the sheer fucking pleasure that threatens to overcome me before we’ve even started.

“Eyes on my wife,” Hunt demands, and my gaze snaps to her, my head twisting so I can see her fully. She’s lying back on the pillows, her lips parted as her hooded gaze stares at Hunt’s hand. “Iris?”

“Yes, Daddy?” Her voice is a sensual caress that stokes up my shaft, causing another bead of pre-cum to seep from my slit.

“Touch yourself while you watch,” Hunt orders, and her fingers don’t even fucking hesitate, heading straight to her slick pussy and rubbing her clit. A deep moan falls from her lips, a matching sound coming from mine as Hunt moves his fist slowly up and then down our dicks.

“Fuck, Baby Boy. You feel so good against my cock,” Hunt groans, and I swear to fuck I almost explode, then and there. It’s been so long since he’s touched me like this, since we’ve been together like this, and it’s made all the better by having Iris here.

His hand glides up and down our shafts, squeezing, and soon my chest is heaving. Sweat beads across my forehead and down my spine as my orgasm threatens to crest.

“Shit, Hunt. I can’t hold back much longer, Daddy,” I whine, panting, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. I’m still watching Iris, her hooded gaze fixed on our dicks, her lips parted as she rubs her clit in time with Hunt’s movements.

“It’s not me you need to be begging, baby,” Hunt grits out, moving his fist faster until sparks fly across my nerves.

“Please, Princess. Please let me come,” I beg her, watching with widened eyes as she pauses, then slowly gets to her knees. She sucks in her lower lip as she looks up from Hunt’s hand, straight into my eyes. “What is it, darling?”

Hunt stops moving his hand, turning to face her.

“If I come closer…” She releases the lip, and then licks it, her cheeks flushing. “If I come closer, will you come on me? Mark me?”

“Peaches,” Hunt growls, and I have to agree. I want nothing more than to cover her with my cum, rub it into her skin until she absorbs it and everyone knows who she belongs to. “I can speak for both of us when I say get your gorgeous fucking arse over here so we can cover that sweet pussy with our cum. Though I have a condition.”

I hold my breath, watching as she looks at Hunt with a wide-eyed gaze. “Yes?”

“You don’t wash it off. You wear us on you all day,” he states, and a deep sound vibrates from my chest at the idea of her keeping me on her for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” she answers in a breathy tone, slowly shuffling on her knees until she’s right in front of us. I can smell her arousal, the scent heady and overwhelming me.

“Please, Princess. Please, can I touch you? I need to feel you wrapped around my fingers,” I ask, her breath juddering out of her chest as my fingers flex, desperate to be inside her.

She reaches out with a trembling hand, the one that was playing with her clit, and takes mine in her grip. Then she brings me to the apex of her thighs, and I can feel the heat of her before my fingers make contact with her slick folds. Her hand drops to my forearm, and I waste no time, sinking two fingers into her warm channel.

“Ro,” she gasps, her head thrown back as I pump in and out of her, Hunt matching the movement with his fist wrapped tightly around our cocks.

We become one moving part, our groans and panted breaths filling the room as we quickly approach an edge that I know will see me freefall into the abyss. It’s a place I will swan dive into, knowing the pleasure that awaits me there is unlike anything else.

Hunt twists his fist just as I hit that spot inside Iris, and Iris and I both come with cries, her pussy squeezing the life out of my fingers as I spurt my seed all over her glossy curls and Hunt’s hand. He’s quick to follow, adding his cum to the mix that is dripping down her mound, and it’s all I can do to keep finger fucking her as my orgasm makes spots dance in front of my eyes.

I don’t think I’ve ever come this hard, my whole body vibrating as my soul leaves me via my dick. Iris slumps, her forehead falling to my shoulder as she twitches and wriggles, signalling that she’s done. Reluctantly, I remove my hand, Hunt releasing our dicks and then grabbing my hand, shoving both our cum-covered index fingers into his mouth and sucking.

I swear my dick twitches at the sight of him sucking off our combined releases, and then he brings our hands to Iris, who obediently opens her mouth and sticks out her pink tongue. She delicately licks our fingers, whimpering when he withdraws our hands and then presents them to me. I hold his gaze as I finish cleaning our hands, the salty taste of mine and Hunt’s cum mixing in with the sweet musk of Iris’s on my tongue.

Shit. I never want to taste anything else, and the only way to top this would be for Hunt to come inside her and then I’ll eat it straight from the source. One day. She’s not ready for that now, but one day soon she will be.

“Go get her knickers,” Hunt orders in a husky tone, and I release our fingers, Iris’s head coming off my shoulder as I get off the bed on trembling legs and grab her knickers off the floor. When I turn back, Hunt is helping her to stand, standing behind her and supporting her weight as she leans on him, her muscles relaxed and her eyes almost shut. “Put them on her.”

Kneeling in front of them, I lift one foot and then the other, sliding the lace up her shapely legs, kissing above her knees as I help her into her underwear. I then grab her leggings and get those on her, all the while Hunt strokes her arms, kissing and whispering praises in her ear.

Once she’s dressed, he gives me a nod, passing her into my arms, and I guide her over to a large chair, sitting down and pulling her onto my lap. She snuggles in as he grabs her a glass of iced water and some sliced fruit.

“Drink, Princess,” I softly command as he lifts the glass to her lips, tilting it just enough so she can drink, but not so much that it spills out of her mouth. “Good girl.”

I smile when she shivers in my arms, and Hunt remains on his knees, feeding her slices of fruit from his fingers. Once she’s had enough, her body grows heavy, and Hunt drapes a blanket over her as she falls asleep in my lap, my arms wrapped tightly around her. I will never let her go. She is more crucial to me than the air that I breathe, and I will hold her for the rest of my life.

I feel lighter than I have in a long time, the weight on my chest loosening as we step from Serene Haven into the early evening and head towards our car. I can’t stop the grin that splits my lips. It’s been there all day thanks to our beautiful Princess.

“This place is good for her,” Hunt states as we climb into the car, Hunt on the driver’s side. My eyebrows raise, not at his words, which are true, but at the fact that he said them. He narrows his gaze at me. “Fuck off. As much as I hate that she’s away from us, she needed help to process what happened.”

My good mood darkens at the mention of what she’s been through. At what we couldn’t prevent. It’s a special kind of hell, not being able to stop the person, who you love, from hurting and not being able to fix them once you get them back.

“And she’s safe here, especially while we help the Knights,” I reply as we make our way down the drive and back towards the city.

“Sergi won’t try to take her again, not after The Fallen intervened,” Hunt comments, his brows furrowed as his eyes remain on the road. “But he could try to make things appear like she has no choice but to go back.”

“How so?” I inquire, studying him as his jaw works.

“If he threatens one of us in such a way that forces her hand to save us, like he did before.” My stomach swoops, his words making acid churn inside me.

“Shit. Though I can’t imagine The Fallen being happy with that either,” I muse, watching as the sun sinks lower in the sky. “And he currently seems hell-bent on punishing us for having her back, not trying to get her back himself.”

“True. Though we should still be on our guard,” Hunt remarks, taking a deep inhale through his nose. “For now, let’s focus on getting through tonight. I can’t believe I’m letting Nik blow up my club.”

His lips draw down, but there’s definitely a twinkle in his eyes that I don’t miss. I might have if I didn’t know him so well, but I do and my lips twitch as I waggle my eyebrows. “Something you want to confess, Daddy?”

His body stills as he refuses to even look at me, which only makes my grin widen.

“Like what exactly?” His voice is low, promising danger, but I was always an adrenaline junky.

“Like the text exchange you had with Nik before you wiped it from your phone. The one where you told him to get on his knees for you,” I casually state, laser-focused on the way his hands clench around the steering wheel. “Look, I don’t blame you. The man is fine as fuck and has a gorgeous dick. Plus, he loves her too, so it seems like a simple decision that you’d want to fuck him as well.”

“I do not want to fuck him. I can’t stand him, arrogant bastard,” Hunt grits out, and I outright chuckle at that.

“Me thinks the Daddy doth protest too much.” I laugh when his growl fills the space with that delicious alpha energy of his. “I think it will be hot as fuck watching you both trying to out-Dom each other. I wonder who will come out on top?”

“Clearly that would be me, fucking brat,” he grumbles, and I snap my fingers at him.

“I knew it! You do plan to fuck him! Iris will be so fucking horny to hear that,” I tease, unable to help myself as his cheeks redden. Yep, he definitely wants to fuck Nik as much as I do, and it will be explosive for sure.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“CENTURIES” BY FALL OUT BOY

ROWAN

My pulse is fast, my senses heightened as we saunter into the mansion, Hunter at our side for the first time. The other security have all gone home for the night. Only Roman and I are on official duty, as has been the way for many nights, just like we planned.

We step into the library, the CCTV footage we’ve been studying telling us that is where we will find our rat. He’s there as expected, dark head bent as he stares at a large screen, watching his niece with no clue that the grim reaper has come to collect him.

My jaw clenches to see his attention so unwavering, even if the footage he’s watching is false. Kai Matthews, the Knight’s tech genius, has looped most of the footage since we discovered this pervert was recording Lilly. Kai is as good with tech as I am, perhaps even more, and we’ve spent hours chatting virtually and playing around, stealing all of this fucker’s money and ruining his various business deals, the usual.

The sun is just setting when we hear the strains of “Ride of the Valkyries” by Wagner, and a smile tilts up on the side of my mouth. I’ve got to give it to these Knights, they know how to do things with style.

“What the fuck?” Adrian Ramsey hisses, getting up and spinning, freezing when he spots us in the shadowed doorway.

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Adrian,” Roman tells him, his voice soft and chiding like he’s disciplining a child.

“And it’s time to face the consequences of your actions,” Hunter adds, stepping into the light, and even I want to shiver at the look of pure, unfiltered rage in his green eyes.

I know it’s not just for Lilly that he’s doing this, that any of us are doing this. In part, it’s because we can’t punish the one we truly want. Not yet anyway.

“Who the fuck are you?” Adrian demands, his voice shaking just a little as Roman and I step up beside Hunt.

“We’re just Shadows,” I whisper, my voice low with the pleasure that is thrumming through my veins. The promise of bloodshed always has this effect on me. It makes my blood sing like nothing else. Well, not until I made Iris bleed, then my blood positively roared. “We’re not the ones you should be afraid of tonight.”

“HEATHENS” BY TWENTY-ONE PILOTS

ROMAN

The scent of burning fills the air as Hunt, Rowan, and I watch the mansion Rowan and I have been spending most of our time at blaze, the fire lighting up the night sky around us. Tonight was finally the night where the Knights came to rescue Lilly, and their vengeance was a thing of fucking beauty. We even got to take part a little, which helped the beast within us all, given that we can’t hurt the man we all really want to.

“We best get going before the authorities arrive,” Hunt orders, striding towards our truck, which is parked a little bit down the driveway.

He has droplets of blood trickled across his arms and chest. We all do after that bonding session, giving the man a six-pack. Shots to each ankle, knee, and elbow, just like traitors to the Irish Cause received during the Troubles. Fingers will be so proud when I tell him.

“Come, brother. Tomorrow we can both surprise Iris when we visit,” I tell Rowan, who’s staring into the flames like they hold answers to all the questions in the universe.

“And then we let Nikolai blow up our club in six days’ time,” Rowan responds, his jaw tight as he tears his gaze away from the flames and turns towards the direction our truck is in. I sling an arm over his shoulders.

“Yeah, but it’s for Iris. To help keep her safe,” I say, tugging him down the driveway, our feet crunching on the gravel.

“And helps further his cause of taking over from his father. Don’t forget that,” he grumbles, and I pause in my steps.

“True,” I reply slowly, considering. “But I mean, it won’t hurt to be in bed with the Bratva.” A grin splits my lips at his huff of laughter. I thought my double entendre was rather clever.

“True,” he mimics my earlier agreement. “Though that benefits you and Hunt in other ways.”

“And Iris. Don’t forget she likes to watch, brother, and you can be there to take advantage of her arousal.” His skin flushes, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and I know that he’s imagining all the ways he can indulge. He’s not bi, not like Hunt and I, although as far as I’m aware, we’ve only been with each other in that way, never another man. Well, until Nik, that is, and I cannot wait to finally get us all together. We will definitely need a bigger bed for that.

“Also true, and I suppose having to put up with the Russians is a small price to pay,” he muses, and I bark a laugh as we approach the truck.

He steps out from under my arm, opening the back door and climbing inside, leaving the front passenger seat for me. How considerate.

Something inside my chest loosens as I climb in, and then we drive off. We can now focus all our energy on Iris and her recovery, which, given what happened earlier, seems to be coming along in leaps and bounds.

Holding her again and feeling her fall apart at the seams was like a dream come true. Better than a dream, because it was real, and she is everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Especially with Hunt there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“NOT AFRAID ANYMORE” BY HALSEY

IRIS

“Hunter is on his way. He said he’ll have breakfast with you in the room you saw him in yesterday,” Rufus informs me as I emerge from my room. My heart pounds as I walk down the hallway, turning at the bottom of the stairs to head in that direction rather than go to the dining hall. My steps are hurried, my sole focus on seeing with my own eyes that Hunter is okay and getting the story of what happened last night out of him. Did Lilly make it out okay? Are they all okay?

Hunt’s had breakfast with me a few times, not something that other residents seem to have experienced much of as it’s outside of normal visiting hours. Though Hunter Anderson seems to have some kind of sway here, allowing him to bend the rules a little, probably because of the generous donations to the centre.

Rufus follows behind me like he usually does, stepping ahead and checking the room before he allows me to enter. Then he waits just inside the door as I pace across the plush rug, the room clean and made up perfectly, as if my tryst with Hunt and Roman didn’t happen yesterday.

I freeze when the door opens, then am rushing at Hunt, throwing myself in his arms with a small sob as my heart thuds wildly inside my chest.

“Shhhh, Peaches. It’s okay, we’re all okay,” he soothes in a deep voice, the sound of the door closing softly behind him reaching my ears. “Lilly is fine. She even got her revenge and was magnificent.”

My lungs expand, a warmth filling my stomach as I take in his words. Good for her. I’m glad she could get that closure and hope that one day I may be able to do the same. Make Sergi hurt the way he made me hurt. I’ve never been a violent person, but I am changed now, and a part of me needs to seek vengeance on those who have wronged me, starting with Sergi Petrov. Perhaps ending with my father, but that is for another day. One step at a time.

I look up and gasp as laughing brown eyes the colour of autumn leaves lock with mine. “Ro!” I yell, releasing Hunt and shoving him to the side, making him huff as I throw myself at Roman, his powerful arms easily catching me and drawing me against his firm chest. I inhale deeply, letting his scent wash over me and go some way to calming the turbulent emotions that are threatening to drown me right now.

“Hey, Princess. Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” he rasps, burying his face into my neck and inhaling deeply. I chuckle.

“You only saw me yesterday, Ro,” I tease, giggling again when his lips nibble on the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“And the time between was too damn long, love,” he growls, and a full-body shiver has my nerves alighting.

“You going to hog her all to yourself, brother? You were always shit at sharing,” Rowan’s deep voice drawls from behind Roman, and I’m gasping again, shoving Roman aside to pull his brother into my embrace. “I’ve missed you, Lamb,” he murmurs into my hair, and I pull back just enough to slam my lips on his, needing to kiss him more than I need my next breath.

He’s frozen for a second, clearly not expecting the kiss, then with the sexiest fucking groan, he moves his lips against mine, one of his hands coming up to tangle in my hair and tilt my head just the way he wants it.

He’s not gentle like the others were yesterday. No, Rowan devours me, forcing his tongue into my mouth and not waiting for an invitation. His grip in my hair becomes punishing, and rather than being triggered, it fucking melts me.

I need this, this rough treatment that shows me I’m not some broken damsel.

“You’ve kept me waiting too fucking long, Lamb,” he growls against my lips, biting down on the lower one until I cry out, copper filling my mouth as he laps the blood from my now split lip. “I won’t be fucking denied a taste of you any longer.”

My head swirls with his words and the heady lust that is fogging my brain, and I stumble over my feet as he pushes me backwards until the back of my knees hits the sofa arm. My heart races, my breath coming in short, sharp pants as he uses his grip on my hair to spin me around.

“Rowan,” Hunter warns as a hand pushes in between my shoulder blades, forcing me to bend over.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rowan snarls, finally letting go of my hair, and I twist my head in time to see him drop to his knees, his fingers tugging down my leggings and knickers in one go. My entire body tingles, half from terror and half from arousal. “You had your turn yesterday, and I’m not one of your fucking brats you can order around.”

Rowan wastes no time, grabbing handfuls of my arse and wrenching my cheeks apart, his face diving in between my legs and licking a long line from my clit to my arsehole. A low, shocked moan falls from my lips, my head tipping back as my eyelids flutter. It feels incredible, my legs already trembling as he repeats the move again. And again. And again.

My body freezes, my mind taking me to a bedroom full of nightmares, Nikolai in between my thighs and trying to get rid of any trace of his father inside of me⁠—

Thwack!

The sharp pain across my arse cheeks shocks me back to the present, to the furious voice of Rowan behind me.

“You dare to fucking think of someone else when I’m giving you pleasure?!” His voice is a threatening roar, and I shake as he doubles his efforts, his finger dipping inside me, only to pull out and thrust inside my puckered hole.

“Roo!” I cry out, part in pleasure and part in pain, but I don’t ask him to stop. Instead, I beg him by thrusting my hips backwards to keep going, to never stop.

“That’s it, Lamb. You are mine to fucking sacrifice how I see fit, and don’t you dare fucking forget that fact,” he purrs, adding another finger, his other hand reaching around and sinking three fingers inside my sopping pussy. “I’m going to finger fuck these holes until the only memories you have are me being inside you, controlling your pleasure.”

“Fuck, Roo,” I moan, my eyes closing as heat sweeps over me, dotting my skin with sweat. My head drops, landing in a lap, and I open my eyes, rolling them up to find Roman in the seat, his jeans unbuckled, his large cock hard and in his fist. The head glistens with a dot of pre-cum, and it’s right fucking in front of me.

“Suck on his tip, use it like a dummy, and it’ll keep you in the moment,” Rowan demands. There is a gentleness to his voice now, and my mouth opens and closes just over Roman’s bulbous head.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Ro groans, his salty taste bursting on my tongue as I do as Roo said and suck on him.

“That’s it, Peaches, suck him just like that. I bet the little slut will come from just that, he’s desperate for you,” Hunt commands, and I roll my eyes to find him next to Roman, his hand tangled in the other man’s hair, his grip tight as he twists Roman’s face towards his and kisses him hard.

I moan at the musky taste of Roman, the visual, and the confirmation of Rowan’s words. It’s comforting sucking on Roman, using my tongue to tease his head but not trying to sink lower. Rowan moves his hands faster, the sound of his fingers sinking into my body obscene and loud in the room, accompanied by their heavy breaths.

My body winds tighter, my climax fast approaching, threatening to buckle my knees.

“That’s it, take what I’m giving you, and when you come, I’m going to wrap my messy hand over my dick and jerk it until I’m coating your filthy cunt with me, just like they did yesterday,” Rowan grits out, and his words are my undoing.

With a muffled scream, I come, liquid squirting out of me and coating my inner thighs and Rowan’s hands. I suck harder on Roman as the waves of pleasure roll over me, and his dick jerks, his salty cum filling my mouth as he comes with a deep groan.

“Such a good cumslut, Baby Boy,” Hunt praises, and another pulse beats through me, my body on fire for these men, my Shadows.

“Make sure you swallow, Lamb,” Rowan orders, electricity still flowing through me as he removes his fingers from my arse and pussy, making me cry out as more liquid seeps from me. The sound of his breaths becomes heavier, and I swallow all of Roman’s release, keeping his still hard dick in my mouth as Rowan jerks off behind me.

His tip brushes up against my entrance, sending shivers over me. It’s like it almost sends me spiralling back into painful memories of Sergi, but I keep sucking Roman, whose thighs tremble, and that’s enough to keep me here.

Warm liquid hits my pussy, sending another shock through me as I experience a mini orgasm while Rowan comes all over me with a manly moan, covering me as he promised. He seems to wring every last drop out of himself, and then suddenly he’s pulling up my knickers and leggings, covering my pussy and keeping his cum against me.

“Same rules as yesterday, Lamb,” he purrs next to my ear, his voice all breathless and husky. “Don’t wash until tonight.”

He pulls me off Roman’s dick with a wet pop sound, and I open my eyes to find Roman slumped back against the sofa, his cock semi-hard still as his chest heaves, Hunt whispering in his ear and stroking his face in a tender gesture that makes my eyes burn.

“Shit, baby. I’ve never come from someone just sucking my tip like that, and it was…intense,” he breathes out, tucking himself into his boxers and jeans, doing the latter up and looking at me with a sated look in his beautiful brown eyes.

“That’s because our Lamb is fucking perfect,” Rowan praises in my ear, his voice a low timbre that has me shivering. “Now, crawl onto Hunt’s lap and he will fill you in on what happened last night while I fetch your breakfast.”

He places a soft kiss against my temple, stepping away as I round the sofa on shaky legs and drop into Hunt’s waiting arms and lap. He makes an oof sound, and I can’t help giggling as I snuggle into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me and making me feel so fucking safe.

“What happened last night?” I question, and his chest takes in a deep inhale as his grip tightens slightly.

“Everything went exactly as planned, Peaches,” he tells me, Roman’s warm palm coming to rub soothing circles along my legs, which he pulls onto his lap. “We arrived just before sunset, captured and tied up Uncle Adrian, who turns out is not Lilly’s uncle at all.”

“What do you mean? Who is he then?” I question, going to sit up, but Hunt’s small growl has me sinking back down.

“He was her mum’s fiancée way back,” Roman says, his hands starting to massage my legs in a way that has me melting under his touch. “He was an abusive arsehole back then too, and when Lilly’s mum was pregnant with someone else’s baby, she ran.”

“Wow, shit…that’s crazy,” I whisper, and murmurs of agreement come from the guys. “But he was…” I can’t finish the sentence, unable to voice the trauma that she must have gone through finding out that it was her mum’s old dickhead of a fiancé who was abusing her.

“It gets worse, Peaches,” Hunt says, his voice soft and almost pained. Then he takes a deep inhale. “Lilly’s mum hid her for eighteen years, but then he found them.”

My stomach rolls, chills making me shiver, and Roman pauses in his massage to draw a blanket around me. “Tell me, Hunt. Please?”

His arms pull me closer, my head on his chest, his steady heartbeat a reassurance. “He murdered her mum, it turns out she had stolen some things from him, important shares in a company, and when she refused to tell him where they were, he lost it, stabbing her repeatedly with a kitchen knife. Lilly found her not long after.”

A gasping sob leaves my chest, the horror of what Lilly must have gone through that day overwhelming me. I’ve always keenly felt what others have, been sensitive to emotions and my environment, and this guts me.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. It’s all over now, darling,” Hunt soothes as Roman draws closer and Rowan abandons the plate of food he was carrying over on a side table, crouching in front of me, also somehow getting his arms around me as I cry for a complete stranger.

But she’s not a stranger. I feel like somehow I know her, that we share things that no woman should have to.

“I’d like to meet her one day. Lilly,” I tell them, my voice thick, and my hand flutters underneath the blanket, stroking my stomach. We have more in common now than just our shared trauma, and I think that maybe becoming friends is something that might help us both.

“Of course. When you’re up to it, we’ll arrange it, Princess,” Roman says, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

“Now, eat your breakfast, Peaches,” Hunt orders, and I give a wavering laugh at his bossiness.

“You, Hunter Anderson, are a feeder,” I tell him as Roo pulls away and retrieves the plate from the side table with a variety of fruit and pastries on it.

“I will always look after you, Iris Anderson,” he tells me softly, placing a gentle kiss on my head. “Now be a good girl for Daddy and eat your breakfast.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM” BY ROWAN DRAKE

ROMAN

Several days pass where we get to visit Iris every day and it’s fucking bliss. We spend a good part of the morning with her, or afternoon, depending on her schedule, then drive back and get on with Shadows’ business. It takes effort to run an empire like ours, and we’ve been neglecting it for too long, especially with the fucking hate campaign Sergi is running against us.

On Wednesday night, I’m roused from sleep by my phone buzzing on the bedside table next to me. Hunt’s rosemary and mint scent surrounds me as I crack my eyes open, reaching out to grab it off the table. Then my heart pounds, sending a drop of adrenaline through me as I immediately think something is wrong with Iris. I blink at the screen, seeing Lilly’s number flash up. We exchanged numbers on Monday, just in case they needed us again.

“Lilly?” I answer, my voice slightly croaky from being asleep until a few moments before. My pulse settles a little, knowing Iris is fine, that she’s not in trouble. “Everything okay?” The other end of the line is quiet, and I sit up, the sheets next to me rustling as Hunt sits up too, his eyes laser-focused on me and his brows deeply furrowed. “Lilly?”

“I need to get out, Roman,” she whispers, and the sadness in those four words has my chest tightening. “Know any clubs open or parties happening?”

I’m silent for a beat, looking into Hunt’s eyes as I think. Fuck. “Sure, you know Depravity? In Shoreditch?”

“Yep, I’ll grab a black taxicab. Gimme…say, twenty, and I’ll meet you there?” she replies, and I can hear the rustle of bags in the background.

“Alone?” I question, my tone guarded. I know the answer. She needs a break from everything. The Knights may kill us, but I know a cry of help when I hear one, and I’ll message them straight away, letting them know where she is.

“I’ll see you there, Roman,” she answers, and then the line goes dead.

“What’s going on?” Hunt asks as I rub my palm down my face, throwing my phone on the bed in front of me.

“Lilly is struggling, needs to run, so we’re going to meet her at Depravity,” I tell him, throwing back the covers and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “She’s coming alone, so I’ll message the Knights and let them know where she is and that we’re watching her.”

“Fuck,” Hunt hisses, getting out of bed on the other side and grabbing his jeans from the chair where he left them last night.

“She’s been through a lot, Hunt. We all know that sometimes an escape for a little while is what you need,” I tell him, and he sighs, walking over to me in just his jeans and looking like a fucking wet dream.

He pulls me into a hug and I wrap my arms around him, our bare chests pressing together, helping to calm some of the roiling emotions inside of me. “I love you for your bleeding heart, Roman Kent.”

I freeze, his words making my pulse thud along my veins.

“You love me?” I ask, my voice quiet and a little scared. He’s never said those words to me, and I didn’t realise how much I’d longed to hear them until now. He pulls back, his large palm cupping my cheek and forcing me to look at him.

“I’ve always loved you, baby. I’m sorry I never told you, I should have told you,” he says, leaning down and pressing our foreheads together.

I have to swallow past the emotion that is clogging up my throat. “You’re telling me now, and I love you back. So fucking much.”

His lips meet mine in a soft kiss, moving so tenderly against mine that my eyes fill and threaten to spill over.

“I’d love nothing more than to show you how I feel, Baby Boy, but it seems we have a damsel to rescue. Again.” I chuckle, giving him a final peck on those plush lips of his.

“Who said Shadows can’t be white knights too?” I tease, and he laughs, pressing a light kiss to my forehead and stepping away to grab his T-shirt as I get dressed.

My heart is lighter than it was moments ago. There is still worry for Lilly, for Iris, and all the fucked up shit that is sure to come our way, but it all feels manageable now, like knowing that Hunt loves me has made me feel invincible.

I grab my phone off the bed, texting the Knights as we head out of Hunt’s room, finding my brother watching Iris sleeping on the screen in the office. He tears his gaze away to look up at us, one brow arched.

“We’re going to Depravity. Lilly needs some freedom from her demons for a while,” I tell him, and he nods, looking back at the screen. “She’s safe, brother. Joe is literally outside her door,” I assure him. He keeps watch over her every night, barely sleeping. I can’t really blame him if I’m being honest. We all want to make sure she’s safe with our own eyes. Even if we’re too far away to make any difference if something were to happen, which is unlikely as we also have men patrolling the grounds of Serene Haven, not leaving anything to chance.

“Okay, but I don’t want to be too long,” he replies, getting up from the seat but leaving the screen on. He glances at it one more time before huffing out a breath and we head out the flat into the summer night with Hunt and my brother by my side.

“FEARLESS” BY TOMMEE PROFITT, SAM TINNESZ, BEACON LIGHT

NIKOLAI

There’s an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as I walk through Depravity, the bass of the song “Fearless” by Tommee Profitt thumping through me. It’s an appropriate song for what is happening, for this step I’m taking in the silent war against my father.

I’m tingling all over, anticipation lighting me up even as nervousness makes me feel nauseous, bile making my jaw ache. I’ve already made sure the Russian diplomatic plates are on my car, in full view of a CCTV camera that also captured my exit from the vehicle, my face hidden of course. I have paid a witness who will testify to seeing men speaking Russian fleeing the scene, and the explosives I’m using are Russian military-grade. The remnants of the detonator with Cyrillic markings also will be left at the scene.

The detectives will be paid to ‘find’ the evidence, and the press will be given anonymous tips from an unknown source, which not only documents Russian involvement in the bombing but also the relationship between my father and the Russian Ambassador, hinting at the ties between the Russian State and Bratva.

Then there’s the paper trail that suggests our longtime rivals, the Volkovs, are finally making a play for London and southeast England, something they’ve coveted for years. The Bratva is unusual in that there are many branches run by multiple families, and titles aren’t always inherited but fought over and earned. We Russians will not stay in our place. We rise and fight for every scrap we have.

The paper trail, both digital and evidential, will point to the Volkovs trying to undermine my father with the Russian State, to convince them that the Petrovs are unreliable and need replacing with their family. And the State will choose the best men for the job, the ones that do not overtly cause them issues with the West but are far more subtle in their workings. It’s a risk. I don’t want the Volkovs in power any more than my father does, not least of all because it would spell the death of me and those loyal to me, but I need to undermine Sergi so that the only outcome is for him to be taken out and for me to be the best option. Only then can I slide into his place, ensuring that a new dawn emerges with Iris safe as I will hold all the power.

Sure, she will still be at risk from my enemies, though I have plans to take the Bratva into the new age by working with the other families and eradicating this old-school rivalry between the families. I’ve already been working on my connections with the younger generation, men and women my age, who are also fed up with the old ways and crave a more modern Bratva. Many of us share the desire to enjoy life without having to watch our backs constantly and those of our loved ones.

My head throbs in time to the music, all these parts are like a game of chess where I have to be ten steps ahead all the time. I’m fucking exhausted, and may have quit if it hadn’t been for my beautiful Malyshka. Iris is the one who keeps me going, keeps me moving to create that future where we can finally be together.

Of course, I didn’t expect to have to share that future with three others, but I’m nothing if not adaptable. My time in the Russian prison system saw to that.

“It’s done.” Andrei’s voice comes through my comms, letting me know that he’s planted the explosives.

“Done,” Dima adds, telling me he’s also planted the detonator.

I pause in my walk through the club, taking a deep inhale and tasting the electricity that seems to run through the air here. It really is a shame to be blowing it up. It’s a good club and holds some sweet memories of Iris on her knees, Roman on his too.

Checking my watch, I see that it’s 11:45am.

Forty-five minutes to clear this place out, then another thirty before the bomb goes off. Reaching into my pocket, I take out the burner phone, opening a new message thread and smiling as I remember the last time I messaged Hunter Anderson. My dick twitches in my pants at the unexpected turn that it took.

Unknown: Everything’s set. Time to evacuate, Daddy.

I smirk as I look up to the VIP area, to Hunter, who’s leaning on the glass balcony and looking out over his club. Roman is by his side, both of them looking down when Hunter’s phone goes off.

It takes great effort not to bark a laugh at the way Hunter’s jaw clenches as he stares at the screen, though Roman doesn’t hide his mirth. My phone vibrates in my hand.

Hunter: I am not your Daddy, sweetheart.

A small huff of laughter slips past my lips even as the music cuts off, the lights almost blinding as they come on, and a voice over the speakers tells everyone that they need to make their way to the exits.

Unknown: It’s nice to see that you’re admitting that I would be the one on top, Daddy.

A thrill runs through my veins, making my now semi-hard dick twitch in my trousers. I think messing with Hunter like this is my new favourite hobby, not to mention how much the idea of fighting with him to see which one of us would end up on top turns me on more than I’d like to admit.

I’ve never fully indulged that side of myself, the side that likes a man’s touch as much as a woman’s. It was too risky. My father is a homophobic bastard and would have seen it as a weakness to push me for. Something to beat out of me, perhaps even a reason to finally eliminate me.

But having Roman’s hands on me in this very club, then my last interaction with Hunter, has me adding the exploration into my future dreams. Plus, it turned on my little Malyshka, and as I’ve discovered, I will do anything for her happiness. My phone vibrates again as I stand there, watching clubbers being ushered out of the club, confused but not panicked.

Hunter: If by on top you mean on your knees choking on my dick, then sure, sweetheart.

I can’t stop the bark of laughter that slips from my mouth at that, and I glance up to find Hunter’s fierce gaze on mine, a dark promise in his green eyes. A shiver travels through me, and for perhaps the first time in my life, I think maybe I wouldn’t mind getting on my knees for another man.

My lips tilt up in a half smirk, then I tear my gaze away and follow the rest of the patrons out of the club into the balmy night air. There’s a chill, but you can definitely tell we are heading into the warmer months. My men come up on either side of me, Andrei talking in Russian as we head back to the car.

“Everything in place, Nikolai?” he asks as we push our way through the crowd, earning glares and outraged cries. It’s all part of the plan. Our faces are hidden in hoods, but we want people to remember the Russians who were acting shifty.

“Da,” I confirm, my phone vibrating in my hand.

Hunter: Everyone’s out. I hope to fuck you know what you’re doing, sweetheart.

A warmth heats my chest at the nickname. The only other person to have given me one is Iris, and it speaks of an intimacy that I’ve craved my entire life. Another message comes through before I’ve replied.

Hunter: And stay safe. She’ll kill me if anything happens to you.

My stomach tightens, knowing he speaks the truth. I know how much me being hurt also pains her, but I can’t do this without some risk, and I will risk it all to keep her safe.

We make it to the car, once again hiding our faces as we get in. We’re far enough away for the blast not to affect us but still able to monitor it. Looking at my phone screen, I see that we have less than half an hour before the bomb goes off, so I settle into the passenger seat and wait, typing out my message.

Unknown: And how about you? Would you miss me, Daddy?

I hold my breath after I’ve hit send, watching the dots appear, then stop, then appear again.

Hunter: No one hurts what belongs to me, sweetheart. And if your actions lead to something happening to you, however small, I will punish you accordingly, so best make sure you stay safe for everyone’s sake.

My throat tightens at his words, a lump forming that is hard to swallow past. That I belong to him should raise my hackles. I’m heir to the London Bratva, for fuck’s sake. We are not owned like dogs. We are the owners, the masters.

But his claim soothes a wound inside me that has been festering since I watched the light fade from my mother’s eyes. They ease a tightness from my soul that I wasn’t even aware was there.

I think that belonging to someone like Hunter Anderson, belonging with him, Iris, and the twins might just be more than I could have ever dreamed of.

A loud rumble sounds as the night lights up ahead of us, our bomb going off and making my ears ring. Dima starts up the car and we drive away, the sounds of sirens filling the air along with the ringing that fades from my hearing.

It’s a sound that heralds the new dawn, that signals a new beginning.

I just pray it’s not the beginning of my death knell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“ARTISTRY” BY JACOB LEE

IRIS

Ihead down to breakfast with a sober-looking Rufus, his brows wrinkled and his body stiff. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, my gut telling me something is wrong.

“What’s up?” I ask as we make our way along the halls. There’s a lightness in my soul, and I feel like a giggly schoolgirl who had sex for the first time every time I remember the day before and everything that happened with Rowan and Roman a few days prior. It was exactly what I needed, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t plagued by nightmares last night, instead, managing a somewhat peaceful night’s sleep.

They’ve all visited since, though none of the visits have been as explosive, and we’ve spent a lot of time walking around the gardens now that the weather is so nice out.

Julia is also pleased with my progress, not making it feel awkward in the least when I confessed what has happened between me and the guys.

Rufus’s jaw works and I pause, reaching out a hand and placing it on his tense, muscled arm as my brows lower.

“What happened, Rufus?” I ask, my heart doing an unsteady thump inside my chest. He sighs, briefly closing his eyes before opening them again and looking directly into mine.

“Depravity was blown up last night, and it looks like it was the Russians,” he tells me, and it’s as though the ground has fallen out from underneath me. My mouth opens, but no sounds escape, my nails digging into his skin. His eyes widen upon my reaction, his hand coming out to grip my other arm as if he’s afraid I will fall down. “Everyone is fine, no one was hurt. There was an issue with the sewage pipes, so the whole place was evacuated about half an hour before it happened.”

My breath whooshes from me as relief leaves me feeling almost dizzy. “Thank fuck.”

I’m distracted as I eat breakfast, Ember and Johnny glancing at me with frowns as I remain mostly silent, thinking over what Rufus told me and all that it implies. Did Nik know about the bombing? Was he part of it?

My stomach churns and I push my food away, not able to eat anything.

“Are you okay, babe?” Johnny asks, his hand reaching out to stroke my arm. My gaze flies to his, his voice bringing me back into the room where my mind took me away with all the questions swirling around it.

“Yeah, just, something happened last night, outside I mean, with the guys, and I guess I’m worried,” I confess, wringing my hands together. I wish I had a fucking phone, just so I could call them and ask what the fuck happened.

Johnny’s gaze flits behind me as Ember takes one of my hands in hers and rubs it soothingly.

“I’m sure everything is fine, Iris. They’d get a message to you if it wasn’t,” she assures me, and I nod just as a tap on my shoulder has me spinning, my heart racing.

“Sorry, Iris, didn’t mean to scare you,” Rufus gruffly apologises, his cheeks reddening. “Just got word that Hunt and the twins have arrived and are waiting in your usual room.”

I’m up before he’s even finished, rushing across the dining room and just catching Johnny calling Rufus sweetheart before I hear his footsteps behind me.

I don’t stop until I’m bursting through the door of the room that is fast becoming a place of comfort to me, my eyes catching Hunt’s, my body colliding with his before my brain has even caught up.

“Rufus told you then,” Hunt states, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me into one of his bear hugs that always leave me feeling safe and protected.

“Yes, and I want to know what the fuck happened?” I snap, pulling back and glaring at him. His eyes widen, then his lips twitch, and I just know he’s holding back a smile. It makes my eyes narrow on him, my blood heating in annoyance.

“You’re cute when you’re angry at me, Peaches,” he rumbles, his hand coming up to stroke a finger between my furrowed brows.

“Stop trying to distract me and tell me what happened, Hunt,” I say, my tone fire and brokering no arguments.

“Come sit down and I will,” he says, taking my hand in his and leading me to a soft-looking armchair. “You also might want to say hello to the twins, you know, since they came to visit too.”

My mouth drops as I look around the room, finding Roman and Rowan helping themselves to some pastries that were clearly laid out for us.

“Hello,” I say, my tone a little sullen, and they both smirk, leaving their pastries and strolling over to me.

It’s like being stalked by two jungle cats, their feline grace, a sight that always makes my heart beat faster, my pulse racing as they get closer.

“Hello to you too, Princess,” Roman says, being the first to reach me and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “Have you eaten?”

“I couldn’t, I was too worried,” I confess, hearing Hunter making a tsking noise behind me.

“I’ll sort you a plate before Daddy has an aneurism,” Roman says, kissing my cheek and stepping back towards the side table as Rowan takes his place in front of me.

“Hello, Lamb,” he greets, his fingers tracing down my cheek. “You looked beautiful as you slept last night.” My brows dip and he gives a chuckle that really should be forbidden. It’s equal parts terrifying and sexual, my body lighting up at the sound. “As if I wouldn’t have my eyes on you every minute of every day.”

I let out a shaky exhale when he places a kiss over the top of Roman’s on my forehead, and then takes a step back.

“We will discuss that after you all stop avoiding telling me what happened at Depravity last night.”

Hunt tugs the hand he never let go of, and I fall into his lap, smiling when he makes an oof sound. Serves you right, bastard.

“Nik messaged me last week, telling me he needed to blow up Depravity. He said it was part of keeping you safe, so I didn’t argue, didn’t ask why, and just helped get everyone out before the bomb went off,” he tells me, and I straighten up so I can look into his eyes, my own no doubt wide.

“Wait, you knew about this last week and didn’t tell me?” I ask, hurt lancing my chest at the fact they kept something so big from me.

“We didn’t want to worry you, baby,” Hunt confesses softly, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb passing over the skin under my eye. “And you’ve been through so much, we didn’t want to add to that.”

“You still should have told me. I don’t like that you kept me in the dark,” I say, unable to resist the comfort of his touch, rubbing my face into his palm. “Please don’t hold things like that back from me, okay?”

“Okay, Peaches. I’m sorry, love,” he replies, and I nod, pausing as something else occurs to me.

“You let him blow up your club? For me?” I ask in a shocked whisper, suddenly breathless, my muscles rigid. His face softens, his other hand coming up and cupping my cheek in a tender gesture so I’m held between his palms as he gazes into my eyes.

“Peaches, I’d let him, let anyone, do so much more to keep you safe. No arguments. No questions. Your safety comes first,” he tells me, and tears sting my eyes. “I love you, wife.”

“But you loved that club, and Roman loved playing there,” I reply, still unbelieving that he actually agreed, especially as he doesn’t seem to know exactly why it was needed.

“I love you more,” he says simply, using his grip on my cheeks to bring me close enough so he can place a gentle kiss on my lips. It’s reverent, worshipping, like he can’t quite believe he’s allowed.

“And we’ll fix it up in no time and I’ll play there again soon, Princess,” Roman adds, sitting on the arm of the chair, and I twist my head to look at him, Hunt still keeping hold of my face.

“I love you all so, so much,” I reply, my voice thick as I have to push past the lump in my throat. I turn to look back at Hunt, my mouth going dry as I think about the other part of my soul who is missing. “Is Nik… Is he okay?”

Hunt smiles, pressing another small kiss against my lips before letting me go as Rowan comes over with a plate full of fruit and pastries.

“He checked in just after the bomb went off. He’s fine, Peaches.” Then he sighs. “I just wish he’d tell me what he’s up to. Fucking idiot will get himself hurt if he’s not careful.”

I look away from the plate of food, my eyes narrowing as I find Hunt with his jaw tight, his brows furrowed. “Are you worried about him, Hunt?” His eyes snap to mine, wide, and a blush creeps up his neck. My mouth drops as realisation hits me. “You like him. Like, like him.”

Hunt’s mouth opens, then closes, no sounds coming out, but his cheeks turn red and Roman laughs behind me.

“They’ve practically been sexting,” he says, and it’s my turn to blush, my core throbbing at the image those words create.

“That’s not fucking true,” Hunt grumbles, his gaze sliding away from mine. “He was trying to say he’s more dominant than me, and I reminded him I put all my brats on their knees.”

A gasping giggle falls from my lips, and I squirm in Hunt’s lap, also imagining being on my knees, Roman on one side, Nik on the other. That visual has heat lighting my body on fire. “You’d put Nik on his knees?” His gaze snaps back to mine, and I don’t miss the way his green eyes sparkle like molten jewels. Fuck, he’s turned on by the idea for sure. “I’d like to see that, Daddy.” My voice is a husky whisper as my visual morphs to one where Nik has Hunt’s cock in his mouth, making my thighs rub together.

“Well, he’ll have to keep himself alive long enough first,” Hunt grumbles, and just like that, my lust drains from me, replaced by a shudder that sees cold settling into my very bones. I don’t have to ask him what he means. I know that Nik’s biggest threat is Sergi, and whatever Nik was up to last night, you can bet Sergi is behind it and it has something to do with Nik’s plan to take over.

“He’s clever, like a fox. He’ll be fine, Lamb,” Rowan assures me, plonking down on the chair on the other side of Hunt and setting the plate on his lap. “Now come eat.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“ONE WAY OR ANOTHER” BY UNTIL THE RIBBON BREAKS

NIKOLAI

“Tvoyu mat bliad!” Sergi screams as he throws the newspaper down on his desk, the front page showing a picture of the bombed-out club, along with a small image of him and the Russian Ambassador shaking hands at a recent function. The headline reads, “Russian Embassy Linked to London Club Blast; Mafia Ties Suspected.”

Sergi is fuming, his face a mottled shade of red, nostrils flared, and his breathing noisy as he takes a deep drink from his vodka glass.

“Not only was the club evacuated before the bomb went off because of ‘sewage issues,’”—he makes air quotes with his fingers, his dark eyes locked on mine—“but the Embassy have been on the phone, asking me what the meaning of this fuck up is, telling me I’m becoming a liability, and all I can think, Nikolai, is that I didn’t tell you to involve them.” His shrewd gaze lands on me, and it takes a huge effort to not let the shudder of fear show.

“It seems that, from the police records, which our contacts have shared with me, CCTV shows a car with three masked men fleeing the scene with Russian diplomatic plates,” I tell him cooly, my stance wide as I keep my hands in front of me, my gaze locked on his. “And that witnesses heard Russian men speaking, again, leaving the scene before the bomb blew. Those men were not me or any of mine.”

“Then who the fuck were they, pray tell?” he sneers, spittle flying from his mouth, and the vitriol in his tone sends another jolt of terror through me. A jolt that doesn’t show on the outside, only through years of training.

“I’ve reason to believe that the Volkovs are involved, trying to make a bid for London.” His entire body stills, his eyes laser-focused on me. “I’ve had my contacts keeping a close eye on them, and it seems they got wind of our plans for Depravity and saw it as an opportunity to cause a rift between you and the Embassy. They planted evidence and then leaked that same evidence to the press.”

He growls, his glass smashing against the wall in the next second as a string of Russian curses flows from his lips. I don’t so much as flinch, though my heart pounds inside my chest as he swallows my lies. With a deep, noisy inhale, he smooths his hair back.

“How do you know it was them and not someone else?” he questions, his eyes once again on me.

“The witnesses say that the men they saw had black eagles tattooed on the sides of their necks,” I answer, knowing that is the insignia of the Volkovs.

Sergi’s jaw clenches. “So we have a rat in our midst.”

My stomach roils, knowing that the rat he seeks is his own son.

“So it seems,” I reply with a curl of my upper lip, presenting the face of a dutiful son and heir who has been betrayed by one of his own. “I will start investigations and exterminate anyone who thinks they can betray us like this.” This fits into another one of my plans; getting rid of some of my father’s loyal men.

“Yes, they do not deserve to live,” he muses, looking down for a moment, then back up at me. “And keep an eye on those fucking Volkovs. Any chance we get, we take them out too.”

“Yes, Father,” I agree, nodding but not moving yet, as I’ve not been dismissed.

“In the meantime, we shall throw another party, get the Embassy back on board, reassure them and the others that this is a minor setback. You’ll be there. It’s good to show them we are united and aren’t going anywhere.” His mouth quirks up in a half smile. “Let’s invite the Volkovs. They need to learn too.”

“Yes, Father,” I repeat, his hand flicking out to finally dismiss me. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

With a nod, he goes back behind his desk, and I spin, striding from the room, my face blank even as a smug smile lights up my insides.

Music fills every room in our mansion, the sound of crystal glasses and giggling girls floating around the space to create a symphony that grates on my skin. I fucking hate these parties my father throws, loathe the corrupt men and women that attend them, uncaring of the blank, dead-eyed stare of some of the girls they accost. The lights are low, dark corners filled with undulating bodies and sounds of pleasure and pain.

It makes my skin crawl.

The Russian Ambassador is here, living his best life with a young girl on each knee and one on her knees in front of him. He seems to have forgiven Sergi for the moment. The Volkovs are here too, huddled in a group and barely touching their vodka as they look around the room with narrowed eyes. They know they’ve been blamed for something, they’re just not sure what.

I catch the eye of Alexi Volvo, an heir, just like me. His hair is such a light blond it’s practically silver, his eyes a piercing grey that freezes you where you stand. Rumour is that he has connections to The Fallen, may even be one of them, though no one knows for sure as you only ever see them masked. Still, the resemblance to the one they call Belial is not to be dismissed.

That gaze of his locks with mine, his lips twitching up in a smile that sends shivers down my spine. There’s an unhinged quality about Alexi, and I know that he also spent time in the Russian prison system. I heard stories about him when I was there, stories that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and were spoken about in hushed tones by even the most hardened of criminals.

I tilt my head to the side, indicating that I’d like to meet him outside, away from prying eyes. His smile widens as he gives a small nod, and my years of training prevents the shudder that wants to run through me at the look in his eyes.

Casting my gaze around to check I’m not being watched, Dima inclines his head from across the room, giving me the all-clear. I make my way across the room and towards the doors that lead outside.

Sergi is in another room, Andrei monitoring him while I see to the business I must attend to tonight. The warm summer air hits my face as I step from the cigar smoke-filled room, and I take a deep inhale of the fresh air, letting it calm the racing of my heart as I walk across the stone balcony and down the steps into the garden. I trust Alexi to follow me, so I don’t look back as I head for the woodland I often took Iris to when she was here. It’s one of the few places I know my father doesn’t have eyes on.

When I arrive, I pause as my eyes land on the man leaning against a tree, my pulse thrashing in my veins until he straightens up and steps into the moonlight.

“Jesus fuck, Alexi,” I hiss, his face splitting into an even wider grin as he takes in my surprise. “How the fuck did you get here before me?”

“I have my ways, Nikolai Petrov,” he replies, stalking towards me like a jungle cat, all feline power and threat. “The question surely is, how did I know this was where you were headed?”

I raise a brow at him, not asking, but yeah. How the fuck did he know this was where I wanted to bring him? He just chuckles, the sound sending shivers up and down my spine, despite the warm summer night.

“I have a question for you, Nikolai Petrov,” he states, not coming any closer and sliding his hands into his suit trouser pockets. “Why does Sergi believe the Volkovs had anything to do with that bombing, hm?”

I take a deep inhale, knowing that at some point I’ll need to take a leap, and it might as well be now.

“I told him.” My words are short and to the point, and instead of the anger or even confusion I’m expecting, Alexi’s smile grows wider.

“Yes, you did. You set the whole thing up, planting the evidence and then leaking it to the press and police, all to aid your cause,” he tells me, taking a step closer, that fucking smile playing on his lips as he catches my eyes widening slightly. Fuck. How does he know all this? “I see the thoughts swirling inside your pretty head, Nikolai Petrov. You’re wondering how I know your secrets. How I know you warned Hunter Anderson about the bombing so he could get everyone to safety before either went off.” He takes another step closer, our chests almost brushing. “How you also got Iris Montgomery to the Shadows that first night after her father sold her.” I take in a sharp breath, blood rushing in my ears as he lists all of my sins. I’m frozen, my hands clenched at my sides as he leans in, his hot breath whispering against my ear. “I have a secret too. You see, I find myself wanting to partake in a little patricide myself.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“WICKED GAME” BY LUSAINT

IRIS

Time passes slowly at Serene Haven, but each day that does sees me feeling a little more whole, a little more like my old self. Hunt and the twins have pretty much visited every day, though sometimes one of them is dealing with Shadows’ business.

My hand drifts to my still, mostly flat stomach as I wait in the garden room for Hunt to visit this afternoon. Butterflies swirl inside me, phantom movements that make me wonder what it will be like if I do keep this child. I know there is no way it is one of my Shadows’ because I was on my period when I was taken from them. So there’s no doubt it’s Sergi’s, as much as I wish it wasn’t.

I still haven’t fully committed to whether I’m keeping it, although a part of me suspects that I can’t take its life. The baby inside me is innocent, and I can feel myself growing protective over it, the thought of destroying it filling me with nausea and panic.

I just don’t know how to tell the guys, and that is what is making me hesitate in admitting that I will be keeping it. It’s as much mine as it is Sergi’s, and my sessions with Julia have shown me that I am stronger than I was months ago, which in part is due to all that I have lived through.

The click of the door has me spinning away from the lace-covered French doors, Hunter striding into the room like a storm. His energy is so electric, so consuming, that it’s like being battered by torrential rain and wind. Exhilarating, but also mildly terrifying. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing his usual dark jeans and boots, but with a black tank top that has wide armholes, which teases me with glimpses of his muscled sides.

“Hey, Peaches,” he greets, his voice sending shivers across my nerve endings as he prowls closer. “Missed you.”

“Are the others here too?” I ask, butterflies still fluttering around in my stomach. I don’t mind if they are, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this step with them all at once.

“They had to deal with some Shadow business. We had some cars to ship out. Russian cars to be precise,” Hunt tells me, and my mouth opens with a gasp as I pull away enough to look into his green eyes, which are sparkling with triumph. “Don’t worry, Peaches. No one even knows it’s us, but I’m sure Sergi will suspect, and it’s only fair given everything he’s been fucking up for us recently.”

“Okay, just be careful, yeah?” I say, waiting for his nod.

A breathless laugh escapes me when he tugs me into his arms, his lips brushing over mine before he dips his head to the crook of my neck and inhales deeply. Sparks fly from where his nose touches my skin, and my hands tangle in his hair, tugging it until I’m trapped in his bright emerald gaze.

It’s full of heat, like what I imagine the rainforest feels like, almost suffocating me in its intensity, yet I relish the feeling of being consumed. This is what I need—not to forget everything that happened, it’s part of my story, the tapestry of my life—but to find things that allow me to weave some new threads into the cloth.

“I want you to take off your top and boots, undo your jeans, and go lie on the bed,” I tell him, his eyes widening a fraction before they go molten. I’ve learnt to ask for what I want, becoming bolder, and there is something so freeing about it. It also seems to turn the guys on. A lot.

“And then what will you do, Peaches?” he asks, his voice so husky it makes my core clench. His hands trail down my bare arms; I’m wearing a colourful, floaty, summer dress today given the temperature has risen. It also allows good access, something that I wanted this afternoon.

“I’m going to use your hard dick to get me off, and then I’m going to ride you, Daddy,” I reply, my own tone breathless and full of the lust that is raging through me.

“Fuuuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, releasing me from his hold as he takes a small step back. Holding my gaze, he toes off his boots, then grabs the back of his tank and pulls it over his head in the way that guys do. Why is that so fucking sexy?

He holds my stare as he pops the buttons on his jeans, shoving them and his boxers over his hips but stopping when his dick springs free. I suck in a breath, take in the long length of him, and watch as he backs up, sitting down on the daybed before leaning back on his elbows.

With a shaking exhale, I reach underneath my dress and slide my lace knickers down my legs, leaving them on the floor. His eyes track the movement like a predator, his focused attention unwavering, which only makes my pulse beat faster.

I go to the line of small buttons that keep my dress closed at the front, slowly opening each one until my lace-covered breasts are exposed. He groans, palming his dick, and strokes up and down the length as I pad towards him.

My body floods with warmth as I get closer, not removing my dress. I’m not quite ready to face them with all my vulnerabilities, being naked feeling somehow more terrifying than having Hunter inside me again, but that’s okay, I’ll get there.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Peaches,” Hunt purrs, his hand continuing to move even as I climb on top of him, my legs either side of his upper thighs. “Fuck, you make me desperate.”

The power his words give me is a rush that I’m becoming addicted to, and the fact that he and the twins have consistently said similar things tells me they know that it’s helping to heal me. Sergi took my control when he took my body, and my Shadows are giving it back by showing and telling me how powerful I really am.

I shuffle forward, holding my dress up a little until the head of him bumps my clit, and I give a small moan at the shot of pleasure that fills my limbs. My eyes flutter, but I keep them open, looking from Hunter’s pleasure-filled face down to his hand. Reaching out, I wrap my own around his and use our grips to use his dick as a clit stimulator. I’ve done this before, had Hunt or one of the twins close to my pussy, getting used to the idea of a dick being there that won’t cause me pain or suffering.

But today I want to take that next step and feel him inside me, stretching me in the most delicious way. Being on top—something Sergi never allowed even though I wouldn’t have wanted it—should also give me control, let my mind know that I can stop this at any time.

I glance back up to Hunt’s face, seeing the way his brows pucker, sweat beading his forehead as he stares at my lap. He can’t see what’s going on because our hands are in the way, but we can both feel it, and fuck me, it’s better than I remember.

“Come for me, Peaches. I won’t be able to hold back much longer if you don’t,” he hisses through clenched teeth, and I gasp when he pulls back his hand, making me lose my grip, and smacks my clit with his dick. The sound is wet and the thud has electricity shooting up my spine.

“Again,” I demand in a husky tone, and he obliges, spanking my clit with his dick over and over again until I’m a writhing mess in his lap.

My orgasm crashes over me, stealing my voice as it fills every part of me, and I tense on top of him, letting the pleasure consume me. He stops using his dick like my personal paddle, letting me ride out the pleasure even as I soak his lap, something I know he fucking loves and won’t wash off until tonight at the earliest.

“Such a good, perfect girl for Daddy,” he whispers as I blink open bleary eyes, finding his cheeks flushed and a satisfied grin on his face. His words send a warm heat through my core. I just love when he talks to me like this.

“I love you, Hunt,” I tell him, leaning over and pressing my still trembling lips against his.

The hand not gripping his dick comes up to cup my cheeks, drawing me closer as he deepens the kiss. Our tongues tangle and I lift myself up, my hand back on his dick as I notch him at my entrance.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asks, his lips brushing mine as if he can’t bear to be too far away from them. “We can wait if you’re not ready.”

My chest tightens at his offer, at the fact he wanted to check before we took this next step, but I know what I want. Instead of answering him with words, I pull his hand away from his dick as I slowly sink down.

“I’m sure, Daddy,” I breathe out, feeling the stretch as I sink lower. There is a slight burn, but mostly it feels so fucking right that tears gather in my eyes. “I want to feel you so deep inside me, because that’s where you belong, my love.”

“Fuck, Iris,” he chokes out, and I pull back enough to look into his eyes, which are glistening.

We watch each other, our gazes locked as I take him all the way to his root and hold there, panting as I adjust to him, adjust to his size. I stop my mind from spiralling by comparing him to Sergi, coming to the realisation that Sergi was much, much smaller.

A very inappropriate giggle falls from my lips, my hand slapping over them as my eyes widen, and Hunter raises a brow.

“I didn’t expect that reaction,” he muses, thrusting his hips so he sinks impossibly deeper, and I gasp. “Care to share what’s so funny, Peaches?”

“I can’t, it’s so…inappropriate,” I confess in a whisper. “I don’t want you to get cross or ruin the moment.”

His face softens, his hand coming up to stroke my face. I’m still mostly leaning over him, so it’s not far to reach. “Tell me, Iris. I won’t be cross, promise.”

I swallow, looking between his green eyes and only seeing honesty there. “Sometimes it helps to compare Sergi to you guys, to note the differences.” He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, but waits for me to continue. “I just realised that you have a much bigger dick than him.” The words leave me in a rush and I watch as Hunt blinks, his mouth opening, then closing, then opening again.

“Well, shit,” he murmurs, then huffs a laugh. “I’m not sure what to say.”

I cover my face with my hands, heat suffusing my cheeks. “I knew it would ruin the moment!”

“Look at me, Iris,” Hunt demands, his voice unyielding, and my hands instantly drop. “Good girl. You have not ruined the moment,” he tells me, his dick giving a jerk inside me as if to prove his point. “If we’re going for honesty, a part of me fucking preens at the knowledge that, as well as being an absolute cunt, he has a small cock.” He pauses, his eyes drilling into mine. “And a part of me hates that you have that comparison to make, that you have to even think about it when I’m inside you.” He licks his lips, and I freeze as his eyes fill with moisture. “That I failed you so fucking badly, that I was fucking useless and couldn’t stop him taking you. That I was so fucking scared, Iris.”

I close the distance between us as the first tear falls down his cheek, wrapping my arms around him as he does the same. His dick doesn’t go down as we hold each other, it’s still buried to the hilt, but neither of us move because this is more than just having sex. I didn’t really think until now how hard it must have been for him, for all of them. Each of us earned our own trauma from that night and the weeks that followed. We all gained our own demons that need exorcising. My eyes fill at the thought, the hot tears scalding my cheeks and landing on the skin of his neck.

“I want you to talk to Julia too, all of you,” I say when our sobs subside, my lips peppering his cheeks with kisses. “Your pain is just as valid as mine, Hunt.”

“Okay,” he agrees, his voice still thick, but there is also a lightness to it that was missing moments ago. “I’ll speak to her after this, make us appointments. Rowan will kill me.”

We both huff a laugh, and then groan at the reminder of his still hard dick inside me. His hands move to my hips, holding them as he encourages me to lift up slightly, then pulls me down.

“Hunt,” I gasp, sparks and fireflies bursting inside me as he helps me repeat the move.

“Eyes on me, Peaches,” he commands, and I pull back just enough to look into his face, see his damp cheeks and eyelashes sparkling with tears. “I love you, Iris Anderson, with everything that I am and everything that I hope to be, because you make me a better man than I ever thought I was capable of.”

A shuddering breath leaves me, and I hold his gaze as we fuck each other, both of us moving together in a dance that I thought I’d forgotten. Hunt reminds me of the moves though, his hands holding onto me as he tells me with his body that he will never let me go, that he will always be here when I fall, and will always pick me back up again.

Our breathing becomes gasping, sweat slicking our skin as we reach for the stars. My climax hits first, because Hunt is a gentleman like that, and I freeze, the pleasure consuming me with the power of a supernova exploding. My nails dig into his pecs, my mouth open on a silent scream as I come harder than I have in the time we’ve spent reclaiming my control.

Hunt fucks me through it, his hips punching into me hard and fast until he throws his head back, his neck muscles corded as he pushes deep inside me with a loud groan. He holds me still, my pussy throbbing and pulsing in the best way as my orgasm ebbs and flows.

“Fuck, Peaches, baby,” he rasps out, his body slumping back as he tugs me to his still heaving chest. “I’d forgotten how fucking good it feels to come inside you.”

I rest my cheek on his damp chest, my fingers splayed on his skin. A shiver runs through me, and he grabs a blanket, pulling it over us, but it’s not cold that I feel. No, his words reminded me of the secret I’m keeping buried inside me. A secret that will come out eventually as my body changes.

Because I know now I will be keeping the baby that is growing inside me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“SKYSCRAPER” BY TOMMEE PROFITT, GRACE GRUNDY

IRIS

The next few weeks pass in a blur of visits and time spent healing at Serene Haven. Hunter gives me his credit card so I’m able to buy some floaty boho style dresses that serve a dual purpose. As well as allowing me to start reclaiming my old style back, a style I loved and was a fundamental part of myself, it means I can hide my stomach, which has definitely started to show. Not much, but enough to perhaps rouse the guys’ suspicions, and I’m not ready to tell them. Not yet.

Rowan let slip that they installed cameras in my room and bathroom, so after we came to the compromise that he could keep the one in my bedroom but the one in the bathroom had to go, I’ve been careful to only get changed in there.

I don’t know why I want to keep my baby a secret from them. I just worry that they might be disappointed maybe, or disgusted, and perhaps a part of me likes having this secret all to myself. Well, almost. Julia knows and has been encouraging me to tell them, when I’m ready of course, and I will. Just not quite yet.

The day comes for Ember to be released, and although I’m sad, I’m glad she’s reached a place where she can go start her life with her stepbrothers. We’ve spent countless hours discussing the merits of multiple men in the bedroom and swapping tips, much to the amusement of Johnny, who takes notes, the fucker.

He’s been working on Rufus and Joe, and I swear he’s got the gangsters wrapped around his little finger. He came to breakfast one morning looking flushed and a little shocked, telling me that he’d been left a gift outside his door by the pair, but refusing to go into any kind of details about what it was.

Rufus looked smug as fuck though, and the look of adoration and gratefulness Johnny gave him made my eyes burn. He really does deserve his happy ending.

A week or so after that, I stride into Julia’s office for my usual session. She beams at me, indicating the big comfy chair I usually favour.

“Good morning, Iris. I have some news,” she says, and butterflies take flight in my stomach. A few weeks ago, they’d have spikes on their wings, leaving me nervous and queasy, but not today. Nope, today I feel a sense of excitement. “I think you might be ready to go home, given all the progress you’ve made, especially with your three beaus.”

I blush as she gives me a knowing look. It’s no secret that I’ve been using the private visiting room to reacquaint myself with my guys and their bodies, with Julia’s full support and encouragement of course. I’m also having very few nightmares or flashbacks, and I do feel so much more settled.

I chew my lip. “What if the flat brings back bad memories? Of the night I was taken?” I run my hand through my hair, stopping my hands fidgeting from in my lap.

She thinks for a moment, taking her time to really consider my worry, which makes me feel validated. “Well, as you know, I’ve been seeing Hunter and the twins for their own sessions,” she says, and I nod, warmth filling my chest that they too have been getting the help they need. “And although I am not at liberty to discuss what they’ve told me, they have given me permission to assure you that they have been making some changes, to help you feel more settled when you return.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I have to rapidly blink away the moisture that gathers in my eyes. I had no idea they’d been doing anything like that, that they’d even think of that.

“In that case, I think maybe you’re right and I’d like to return home,” I say, my lips splitting in a wide grin before a fluttering in my stomach underneath my dress has the corners of my lips wilting.

“Maybe it will finally lend you the confidence to tell them about the baby?” she suggests gently, and I nod once more, my hand going over my stomach to brush the slight bulge.

I had my three-month scan here four weeks ago and have the printout hidden in a bag in my room. I sobbed when I saw my baby for the first time, hearing its heartbeat was unlike anything else I’d ever experienced.

“Yes, I hope so,” I whisper, and she gives me a sympathetic look.

“It’ll be fine, Iris. Those three young men are devoted to you. They’ll support you in this,” she assures me, reaching out and taking my free hand in hers. “You just have to trust them, which I know you already do.”

I take an inhale through my nose, breathing out through my mouth, and make a commitment to myself and my child that I will tell them.

“When can I be released?” I ask, my voice stronger, and she gives me a smile.

“It’s up to you, but as early as this afternoon. I know they planned to visit, so you could even surprise them, if you like?” There is a twinkle in her eyes that has a peal of laughter falling from my lips.

“That sounds perfect,” I agree, standing up and ready to rush to my room and start packing. “Thank you. For everything.”

She stands too, walking up to me and holding out her arms. She leaves it up to me, and I don’t hesitate, stepping into her embrace and wrapping my arms around her in a fierce hug. My eyes sting, that lump back in my throat.

“You are so strong, Iris. Don’t forget that out there,” she murmurs, placing a light kiss on my hair before we both step back and drop our arms.

“I won’t,” I tell her, giving her a watery smile before spinning on my heel and striding from the room, ready to start this next chapter in my life.

“HOME (WITH MACHINE GUN KELLY)” BY X AMBASSADORS & BEBE REXHA

HUNTER

We pull up to Serene Haven to find Iris on the front steps, bags surrounding her and Rufus at her back with Julia to the side of her.

“Is she coming home?” Roman asks, bouncing in his seat, his voice threaded with excitement.

My lips tug up into a wide smile when I realise that he’s right, seeing her shining eyes and the huge grin on her face. Roman doesn’t even wait for me to stop the car fully, yanking the door open and leaping out.

“Fucks sake, Ro!” I yell, using Iris’s name for him before slamming on the brakes, but he’s already gone, bounding up the stairs like a damn puppy and pulling her into his arms. Her laughter rings out as he spins her around, and I can’t even be mad at the fucker because the joy on her face makes my chest so tight I think it might burst.

Rowan at least waits until I’ve parked, both of us opening the doors and getting out, heading towards Roman, who has his lips fused to Iris’s in a kiss that would make a whore blush. Bloody degenerate.

“So, you’re ready?” I question as I come up beside them, Roman finally ending the kiss.

Iris looks up at me with dazed eyes, blinking like she’d forgotten where she was for a moment, and I chuckle, the afternoon sun hot on my skin.

“If you’ll have me?” she finally asks, her voice like the softest breeze, caressing my skin in a pleasurable shudder.

“As if there was any question, Peaches,” I reply, shoving Roman out of the way so I can take her into my arms. She fucking melts into me, and it’s a feeling that will warm me to my dying day.

“I love you, husband,” she whispers, and I shiver, loving my title on her kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, wife,” I whisper, lowering my lips to hers and finally giving in to the urge that plagues me every time I’m near her.

She tastes like the sunshine that surrounds us, like home and family and everything that I love, given the scent of Roman clings to her too. I keep it short, knowing that Rowan will want to greet her and I want to get her things in the car as soon as possible so we can finally bring her home. I can’t wait to show her everything we’ve done.

A fizzle of nerves zaps up my spine, worry that she might hate it floating through my mind, but I tell that bitch to shut the fuck up. There’s no room for negativity right now, not with my beautiful wife in my arms, on her way home.

“Roman and I will load the car while you say hello to Rowan,” I tell her, stepping to the side and grabbing her suitcase and duffle bag. “Rufus, you got your bike?” I ask the tatted gangster, and he nods, looking back over his shoulder into the interior of the building.

“I was gonna stick around here for a bit if that’s okay?” he questions, his brows lowered and shoulders tight as if he’s worried I’ll say no. I know why he wants to stay, him and Joe having formed an attachment to one of Iris’s friends, Johnny.

“No problem, we’ll see you back on the estate tonight?” I wait for his nod, then watch as he heads back inside, a smile tugging up my lips.

“Who knew the great Hunter Anderson, leader of the feared Shadows, would also be a matchmaker,” Roman teases as he grabs a bag and we head to the truck.

“Fuck off,” I grumble, but there’s no heat to my words. I’m glad that Rufus and Joe have finally found a third. They’ve been fooling around for a while, but I know they’re both too dominant to be on their own and need someone to look after. To dote on. I have a feeling Johnny is just the person for that, and if their extracurricular activities last night were anything to go by, both of them requesting the night off to deal with something and coming back bloody but full of dark smiles, they’re in deep. I hope he liked his presents.

Roman and I put the bags in the car, shutting the boot and jogging back to Iris, Rowan, and Julia, who are saying their goodbyes.

“We’ll have weekly catch ups over video calls, okay?” Julia tells us, pinning each of us with a look that tells me she won’t take no shit from us and we will do as she says.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer for all of us, and her lips twitch.

“Excellent. Now off with you so it’s not too late by the time you get home.” Her voice is thick and there’s a glimmer in her eyes, as there is in Iris’s, so I wrap my arm around my wife’s shoulder, Rowan taking her hand, and we lead her to the truck, helping her inside.

Something inside my chest settles as the twins seat themselves either side of her. My family is back together again and all is right in the world.

Well, a niggle tells me that statement is not quite true. There is one member missing, and before it was just Iris who noticed his absence, but now… Well, now I find myself worrying about the dark-haired Russian, hoping that he’s not doing something stupid that puts him in harm’s way. Again.

Or so help me I will fucking bend him over my knee and spank him until he can’t sit down for a week.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“BORN TO DIE” BY EUPHORIA, BOLSHIEE

NIKOLAI

This is really fucking stupid, Nik, my inner voice tells me as I make my way down to my father’s office. He’s currently in a meeting with his lieutenants, so I have a narrow window to get the information that I need to finally be able to further my cause. Though, because of Sergi’s raging paranoia, the only way in doing so is by going old-school with a USB that bypasses his security and will allow me to download everything on his private computer.

All of his financial records so I can gain access to the many bank accounts he has, personnel files which contain the material he uses to blackmail pretty much everyone he works with, plus historical records that details how he rose from a piss-poor Russian immigrant to the leader of the London Bratva.

There’s also his safe, which I know contains more, and all of it is only accessible via his office. Nothing remote can touch anything, hence why I’m going against the advice of my men and that inner voice and making my way to his office, a lock picking kit in my suit trouser pocket.

I pass guards, though they don’t give me a second look, used to me coming and going all over our mansion. I am the heir after all, and I’ve made sure to give the impression that I am devoted to my father and his mission to accumulate more power.

Luckily my father doesn’t have anyone outside his office, something I’ve observed via our extensive camera network—which I’ve hacked into and will not be showing this trip of mine as I’ve looped the footage to show nothing amiss. Dima is on standby if I need him and Andrei is outside my father’s meeting room to alert me when Sergi is finished.

Giving a final check around me to ensure that no one is watching, I slip on black latex gloves to mask any fingerprints I might leave behind, then pull out my lock picking kit and get to work. The small snick sound of the lock disengaging is the only noise as the door unlocks. I hurriedly open the door a fraction, slipping inside before shutting and relocking it, just in case. It will give me a few seconds to hide if need be.

The room is dark, only the moonlight from the open curtain lighting the space. It’s enough for me because there’s no way I’d be putting a light on anyway. Far too risky.

His computer sits on his large wooden desk. So on silent footsteps, I make my way over to it, inserting my USB drive and letting it do its thing. The screen lights up briefly, but luckily isn’t visible from outside the balcony doors to the side of the desk so won’t give me away.

As the files start to copy, I crouch down, knowing the safe is on the left-hand side of the desk, made to look like drawers. Using a master key that I had made, I open the false front to reveal the safe.

A smile tilts my lips at the old-school dial. I wouldn’t be able to easily access it if my father fully embraced new technology and went biometric, but he likes the old ways, and so all I need to do is crack the code, which isn’t so difficult once you know how to do it.

It takes a few minutes, my pulse pounding the entire time, but finally the clunk of the bolts turning sounds and the door pops open. Reaching inside, I carefully withdraw the contents. On the top of a stack of old manilla folders sits a knife, a switchblade by the looks of it.

I freeze as I recall Iris telling me of the night she was taken, Sergi also taking the blade Rowan gave her and using it to cut away her clothes. My jaw clenches, and even though my mind screams at me to leave the blade, I can’t forget the sorrow in Iris’s face at its loss.

So before I can think better of it, I slip the blade into my pocket, resolving to give it to Iris the first chance I get. She’s been released from Serene Haven as of today and is back on the World’s End Estate with the Shadows. I’ve been keeping tabs, checking in with her progress without anyone the wiser, so I know that she’s worked through much of the trauma from her stay here.

Letting out a breath and refocusing on the task before me, I get back to the manilla files. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I start taking pictures, which uploads to my private cloud storage and are immediately backed up to a second location. You can never be too careful.

Suddenly, my phone lights up.

Andrei: They’re done and heading back, now!

Moments later, I hear voices approaching. Shit. My father is back early, talking with a lieutenant by the sounds of it. My heart races. I can’t be caught here; it would ruin everything I’ve been putting into motion these past few years. Sergi would never trust me. Fuck, he really would kill me this time, slowly.

As the voices get closer, I hurriedly replace the documents and close the safe, my hands steady despite the rush of adrenaline flooding my system. I glance at the computer—the file transfer is at 89%. Motherfucker! I can’t risk leaving the USB, but if I pull it out before it’s ready, I’ll lose it all.

The sound of the door unlocking has my head snapping up towards it and I watch as the door handle turns. My body acts before my mind catches up, and in a split-second decision, I duck behind one of the heavy balcony curtains, barely breathing.

I hear Sergi enter with his lieutenant, their Russian conversation filling the room as the lights switch on. They’re discussing a major deal, one of the many that Sergi is setting up to bring more guns and unsuspecting girls into the country. Bile hits the back of my throat at the casual way they talk of these poor girls and women, who believe they are getting a better life, but instead are sold into the sex trade, forced into a life of servicing the lowest of the low.

I shift slightly so I can see the computer screen from my hiding spot—97%.

Fuck.

Sergi walks around his desk, then frowns, noticing something amiss. He starts to look around suspiciously, and my pulse is like a turbulent river, thundering in my ears as I inwardly curse.

This is really fucking bad.

Just then, as if to tighten the noose around my neck, the file transfer completes. The USB ejects with a soft sound that might as well be a gunshot for how loud it is. Sergi turns towards the computer, his gaze narrowed.

A loud knock at the door has Sergi looking up, Dima standing on the threshold, distracting Sergi and his lieutenant by asking something about the upcoming shipment of girls. My father strides back towards the door, his focus on Dima as is his lieutenant.

Silently, I dart out from behind the curtain, grabbing the USB and then darting out onto the balcony. I don’t stop as the noise of the glass door opening and shutting is loud in the room, my heart pounding as I scale down the side of the house. The door crashes open above my head and I hear my father cursing and ordering a search of the grounds as I slip into the arched doorway that leads to the kitchens, stripping off my gloves and sliding them into my pocket, using the servants’ staircase to head back up to my wing of the house.

“CONTROL” BY ZOE WEES

IRIS

We arrive back at the estate just as the sun sets, and my heart gives a jolt when I step out of the truck and look up at the looming building before me.

“Come on, Peaches, let’s get you upstairs and settled,” Hunt says, coming up next to me and tangling our fingers together. His warm palm fills me with confidence, and I let him guide me to the staircase as the twins grab my bags.

“Still refuse to use the lift I see,” I mutter, but his deep chuckle tells me he definitely heard me. His hand lets go of mine, and just as I turn to ask him why, a squeak falls from my lips when I’m swept up into his strong arms.

“Far be it for my wife to overtire herself her first night back,” he rumbles, his lips tilted into a delicious smirk that has flutters in my core heating my cheeks. “Well, not by walking up the stairs anyway.”

“How gallant.” I giggle and flush at the implication in his words as he starts climbing the stairs, my arms wrapped around his neck and my face nestling against his broad chest.

He gives a small laugh, bending his head so his lips are closer to my ear. “Let’s see if you still think that when my cock is deep in that sweet arse of yours while Roman fucks your cunt and Rowan your smart mouth.”

Fire.

I am made of pure fire as his dirty words set me alight, my breath stuttering out of my lips as he straightens up and carries me to their flat. Our flat, I guess.

Because he’s a fucking show-off, we make it there in half the time it would have taken me to walk myself, and to my surprise, he doesn’t lower me down, but instead moves aside for Roman to open the door.

“Welcome home, Princess,” Roman says, his lips splitting into one of the widest grins I’ve ever seen on him.

Roman steps aside, allowing Hunt to carry me inside, and as soon as I see what they’ve done, my mouth drops open and tears sting my eyes. The space is utterly transformed, gone is the bachelor pad from before, and in its place is my dream interior. Muted rainbow colours are everywhere, so many patterns from the hand-woven Persian rugs to the blankets that cover the leather sofa, which is the same one from before, and I’m glad because it holds some awesome memories. The room is lit by lamps, also with colourful patterned lampshades so that it looks like an exotic paradise, like out of my favourite retellings of Aladdin that my father used to read to me as a child.

“Do you like it?” Rowan asks as Hunt finally sets me on my feet, though he keeps his arms wrapped around me.

“How did you know?” I ask, still gazing around the space, seeing that the walls have even been painted in a stunning deep yellow.

“My sister may have shown us your Pinterest boards,” Hunt confesses in a gruff whisper against my ear, and I shiver. “And we didn’t want you to feel like this wasn’t your home too.”

“It’s…” I swallow hard, the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. “It’s everything I could have wanted and more.”

“Wait until you see the bedroom,” Roman says, his eyes bright with excitement as he takes my hand and tugs me away from Hunt, who growls like the alpha beast he is.

Roman pulls me along, giggles spilling from my lips as I look around at all of the things I would have chosen for my own house. He drags me down the hallway that used to lead to Hunt’s and Willow’s rooms, but instead of two doors facing each other, there is a single door.

“Ready, Princess?” he asks, his lips pulled into that infectious smile that has my own dragged upwards. My muscles twitch, my nerves tingling as I give him a nod, and like a showman, he pushes open the door with a flourish and then pulls me into the massive space.

The walls are painted a stunning teal colour with the biggest four-poster bed I’ve ever seen, draped in jewelled-coloured silk and covered in so many cushions and blankets I’m not sure how we will fit in it too. There’s an incredible rug on the floor, a woven hummingbird flying in its centre, and stained glass mosaic lamps fall from the ceiling, giving a soft light that bounces around the room. There are other smaller rugs piled one on top of the other, large cushions, and carved wooden furniture dotted around the space, and through an arched doorway, I can just spot multicoloured tiles that lead to a bathroom that is more like a Persian spa.

“Oh my god, this is… I have no words for how perfect this is,” I whisper, my voice choked up with the emotion that is threatening to overwhelm me right now. It’s just so perfect, and the fact that they went to all this trouble just for me astounds me.

“I’m glad you like it, Peaches,” Hunter says, bringing in some of my bags and setting them on the floor. “Why don’t you unpack and I’ll go make us some dinner? I’ve been reading up on that Ottolenghi style food you were talking about the other week.”

Before I can respond, he’s pressing a kiss to my temple and sweeping out of the room. I take another look around, Rowan entering the space and bringing the last of my bags.

“Thank you, truly,” I say as I catch his honey amber eyes. He places the bag on the floor, then comes up to me and pulls me into his arms. As I wrap mine around him, warmth at my back and the scent of peppermint, lavender, and lemon tells me Roman is sandwiching me between them.

“You never need to thank us, Princess,” Roman murmurs against my hair, placing a kiss there.

“We would do so much more than redecorate our house for you, Lamb,” Rowan adds, kissing my forehead as I look up at him. “And one day, I swear we can leave the estate if it’s what you want, but for now, we have to stay here.”

His jaw works and I reach a hand up to cup his cheek, my brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong, Roo?” I ask, my eyes looking between his to find pain in their depths.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him that night. From taking you. So fucking sorry, Iris.” His voice is tight and his eyes sparkle like amber jewels as he looks down at me.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault, my love. You couldn’t have done any more than you did. You were outnumbered, and I wouldn’t have let you put yourself in danger,” I assure him, my voice thick as emotion makes it hard to speak. Then I use my grip to pull him down to my lips. “I couldn’t live in a world where you’re not in it, Rowan Kent.”

His breath stutters over my lips before he closes the distance, his soft lips pressing against mine as the salt of both our tears flavour our gentle kiss.

It’s strange, because although I wouldn’t want to live through what happened after that terrible night ever again, I’ve come to realise that the time I spent in Sergi’s mansion made me stronger. It contributed to the woman I am today, a woman who I am learning to love in spite of all the shit I’ve gone through.

My trauma has shaped me, has given me almost as much as it took away. I know that I can come through the most appalling of situations and not only survive but be stronger for it, and that knowledge is something precious that not everyone gets.

A small flutter in my womb reminds me of the other thing that time has given me. It gave me a life worth protecting, even if its conception is steeped in pain. And as my twin lovers, my soulmates, hold me between them, I just hope that when I finally gather the courage to tell them, they will see the good too.

CHAPTER THIRTY

“ISLAND” BY SVRCINA

IRIS

Hunter makes the most delicious spread of food I’ve ever eaten; succulent meat dressed in herbs and spices, gorgeous wild rice with vegetables and almonds, and the most sublime Peach shortcake with Sindyanna cream that has me moaning and three heated gazes locked on me.

I drop my stare, unable to hold theirs as a feeling of faintness rolls over me. I know where this leads, and while at Serene Haven I could keep my secret hidden, here, they will want to see all of me and won’t be able to miss my rounded stomach.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” I say in a rush, getting to my feet and hurrying to the bedroom, grabbing my silk robe and going into the beautiful bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

With trembling hands, I strip off, looking at my body in the large mirror on the wall. My soft lace bra can’t hide that my boobs are bigger, which are so fucking tender at the moment. My knickers also sit under the swell of my stomach, highlighting the slight roundness even more.

“You knew you had to tell them at some point, Iris,” I whisper to my reflection, trailing my fingertips over my stomach. There’s a small flutter inside, and my lips twitch. “I know, little one. I’m not ashamed. Just…scared. I can’t lose them.”

“Everything okay, Peaches?” I jump as Hunt’s voice sounds from outside the door, his tone tinged with worry.

“Y–yes. I’m fine,” I rush out, throwing the robe over me, tying the belt, and flushing the toilet as if that’s why I was in here. “Be out in a minute.”

I try to calm my breathing as I unlock the door, opening it to find all three of them in the room, matching looks of concern furrowing their brows as they stare at me.

“Hey,” Hunt murmurs softly, stepping close and brushing his fingers down my arm, leaving tingles in his wake. “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We just want to worship you, in whatever way you are happy with.”

His fingers tangle with the tie around my waist, and he starts to pull one end, but my hands fly to the edges of the silk, keeping it closed.

“I… I can’t,” I stutter, clutching my robe tighter as a wave of panic rushes over me, leaving me almost dizzy.

Hunt’s eyes narrow, his gaze darting to where I hold my robe closed, and my mouth goes dry. “What do you mean you can’t, Peaches?”

The twins exchange confused glances before they settle back on me, and it feels as though the walls are closing in, the secret that I’ve kept for these past four months clamouring to be set free, threatening to burst out of me. They step towards me, and usually being surrounded by my guys makes me feel safe, but tonight I just feel like I can’t take in enough air.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Roman says softly, reaching for my hand, and it’s the look of understanding, of sorrow in his usually laughing brown eyes that is my undoing. “Whatever it is⁠—”

“I’m pregnant!” The words explode from me, hanging in the suddenly silent air. My tight body sags, like finally telling them has released me from a burden that I never wanted but had all the same. It’s a relief, even as barbed-winged butterflies threaten to tear my insides apart as I look at each of their faces.

Three pairs of eyes are wide in shock, three mouths slightly agape as they stare at me. I watch as understanding dawns on their faces, their eyes clearing. Then it’s followed swiftly by a storm of emotions I can’t begin to untangle, regardless of how desperate I am to learn how they feel. To beg them not to hate me for keeping my rapist’s baby.

“You’re... what?” Roman whispers, his voice barely audible, but as his eyes dart down to my stomach, then back up to my face, I know he heard me loud and clear.

I swallow hard, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach as I take a deep inhale. “I’m pregnant,” I repeat, softer this time, my fingers stroking across the silk covering my small bump. As if my baby knows I need the support, there’s a flutter and my lips tremble. “And it’s... it’s Sergi’s.”

Roman stumbles, taking a few steps back and sitting heavily on the bed as if he’s been knocked over. His gaze stares out at nothing, his hands raking through his long hair, his lips parted but unmoving. Hunt growls, stepping away with sharp, jerky movements, the sound sending shivers up my spine as his fists clench and unclench at his sides, his jaw tight as his gaze bores into mine.

“I won’t get rid of it, Hunt. This baby is innocent and I won’t take its life just because of the sins of its father.” My voice is unwavering, uncompromising as I speak my truth.

I’ve had months to accept it, to make my decision, and nothing will shift me from it. A pang makes my heart twinge, thinking that it may cost me the loyalty and love of these men, my soulmates, but if they were truly the other parts of me, they wouldn’t make me choose.

Rowan shifts, having been silent the whole time, his gaze intense as he stares at the ground before my bare feet. I can’t read what’s going on in his amber eyes, and sweat drips down my spine as I wait for his judgement. His gaze finally meets mine, and I freeze when he closes the distance between us, his presence like an incoming snowstorm, all swirling violence and freezing winds. I can’t move, can’t do a damn thing as he gets closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

He suddenly drops to his knees, a gasp leaving my lips as he parts the robe that I was clutching so closely to me only moments before. The silk slips between my fingers, tears stinging my eyes as he brings out one of his favourite blades, the twin of the one he gave me that Sergi stole all those weeks ago.

My heartbeat thrashes in my ears, my palms slick even as I’m frozen, waiting to see what he plans to do with the knife.

Then my mouth drops open when he slices the metal across his palm, bringing his steady hand to the small swell of my stomach, and placing his palm flat across my skin. It’s warm, almost burning, and I can feel the wetness of the blood branding me.

“I swear on the blood that runs through my cursed veins to love and protect our baby with every fucked up part of me.” I can barely see his beautiful face through my tears, his words tearing into me and stitching up a part of me I didn’t even know was torn. “I’m so fucking sorry you’ve been alone in this, Lamb, but we will look after you both, every day for the rest of our lives because they are nothing without you.”

“Oh, Roo,” I sob, looking up as Roman comes up beside his brother, and my hand flies to my mouth when he drops to his knees too.

“Pass me the knife, brother,” he says, his voice firm and missing the teasing element it usually has.

Rowan gives him the blade without hesitation but keeps his palm in place, and I swear my baby gives a fluttering kick, which he doesn’t feel but I do.

With hardly a clench of his teeth, Roman slices his own palm, placing his hand next to his twin’s and adding his bloody handprint to my stomach.

“You’ve made this family so much more than I ever dared dream of, Princess, and I don’t give a fuck who shares genes with this baby. It’s ours, just like you are, and I will love it just like I love you. You have my protection, both of you, and you have my heart. All of me belongs to all of you.”

I can’t speak, the lump in my throat too big at their acceptance, their declarations warming me inside out. Movement in front of us has my watery gaze darting up to find Hunt, his jaw tight as his eyes take us in.

His emerald gaze locks with mine as he strides towards our group, and a bolt of fear makes my breath stall in my lungs at the fierce look in his eyes.

“Knife,” he snarls, and Roman hands it to him, but he doesn’t take his gaze from mine as his arms moves, his teeth bared when the metal bites into his skin. “I am fucking livid that you think I would force you to have an abortion, Peaches,” he says between gritted teeth, the knife making a loud thunk as he drops it to the floor. “I may enjoy bending your body to my will, pushing your boundaries, and taking what’s fucking mine, but I would never make a decision like that. Steal away your choice like that.” He doesn’t drop to his knees, of course he doesn’t. He’s Hunter Anderson, leader of the Shadowmen. Instead, he stalks behind me, and my body trembles as he presses the heat of his skin against my back. His arms come around me from behind, his bloody hand landing just above the twins’ on my rounded stomach. “There is no fucking question that I will protect you and our baby. That I will love you both with every fucking atom in my being. That our child will want for nothing, least of all affection, because this baby is a part of you and I don’t give a fuck if half of its DNA belongs to that dead cunt walking. All of it belongs to me, to us, and we protect what’s ours.”

A sob rips through me as I sag in his arms, letting all three of them support me as tears fall down my cheeks, scalding my skin.

“I— I was so scared that I’d lose you all,” I stutter, my hands tangling in the twins’ hair and pulling them closer as Hunt wraps me tighter in his embrace. “But I just couldn’t get rid of my baby. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Shhh, I know, baby,” Hunt soothes me, his other hand brushing the tears from my cheeks. “And we would never ask you to, my love.”

The twins get up, keeping their palms on my stomach, as if that touch alone will protect our unborn baby from the world that they will be born into. My hands slide from their hair, gripping their biceps to keep them close.

“We’ll get started on the nursery tomorrow, Princess,” Roman tells me gently, and more tears fall down my cheeks. “It can have my room. Rowan and I moved our shit in here anyway.”

I nibble my lower lip as a chill runs down my spine, and Rowan pulls it from my teeth.

“What is it, Lamb?” he asks, and it doesn’t surprise me he’s the one to notice my unease.

“It’s so far from here, your room, I mean,” I say, glancing up through tear-studded lashes at Rowan and then Roman.

“Fuck, you are already the best mother. Protecting our baby so fucking well,” Rowan coos, his free hand cupping my cheek. I take a gasping inhale, heat flaring through me as he thrusts his hardness against my thigh.

“We move the office somewhere else and build the nursery next door,” Hunt states behind me, nuzzling his face into my neck and peppering kisses down my skin. “And the fact that you are such a fierce mama bear is such a fucking turn-on, Peaches.” His hand moves from my face to cup one of my swollen breasts, and he groans long and low in my ear. “Her breasts have already gotten bigger, filling up to feed our child.”

Oh. My. God.

Why are their words such a turn-on? Heat licks up my spine as he fondles and rolls my nipple between his fingers, my eyelids fluttering. I open them fully when a hand glides down from my stomach, not pausing as fingers dive underneath my knickers to slide against my damp slit.

“She’s already so wet for us too, though lube is always helpful,” Rowan rasps, sliding his fingers lower. His other hand is still on my face, and it’s with a start that I realise he’s using his cut hand to play with my pussy. That the lube he’s talking about is his own blood.

“Oh god,” I moan as he thrusts two fingers inside me, lighting me up in the best possible ways.

“I need to see these tits,” Roman groans, and I jerk as my lace bralette is ripped from me. “Fuck, baby. They’re incredible.” His head dips down, his tongue lashing my nipple as Hunt holds up my breast for him and his brother toys with my clit. “When do you think we’ll get some milk from them?”

“I, um, I think you h–have to be careful,” I stutter as he continues to lick and suck my nipple, Rowan adding another finger inside my pussy that has me arching into him. “I–It can cause early labour if you try too hard to get some out before the baby comes.”

Roman pauses, rolling his eyes up to me. “Noted.” Then he goes back to playing with my sensitive nipple with his tongue and teeth, not sucking, but it still sends shock waves through me.

“Are they sensitive, Peaches?” Hunt whispers in my ear, moving his bloodied hand from my stomach to play with my other breast, and I gasp sharply.

“Y–yes,” I whimper, loving the pleasurable release of their touch even as I squirm.

“One day soon, I’m going to make you come from playing with your tits and nothing else,” he rasps before sucking the skin on the side of my throat. “But for now, be Daddy’s good girl and come all over Rowan’s bloody fingers.”

His words are the shove I need, and I dig my nails into Roman and Rowan’s skin as I cry out with an earth-shattering release. My head rests back on Hunt’s shoulder as the waves consume me completely, filling me up until I am a being made of pure pleasure, held in the arms of my soulmates.

When I finally open my eyes, my vision hazy with the afterglow, my Shadows are still there, surrounding me.

“What was it I promised you earlier, Peaches? When you told me how gallant I was?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“ALL I WANTED WAS U” BY EX HABIT

HUNTER

Ifeel when my wife freezes, her body heating up as she remembers exactly what I told her earlier.

“Let’s see if you still think that when my cock is deep in that sweet arse of yours while Roman fucks your cunt and Rowan your smart mouth.”

“Baby Boy, strip and get on the bed, on your back, head near the foot of the bed,” I command, and Roman places a final kiss on Iris’s nipple, then walks off with a swagger, stripping as he goes. Fucking brat.

I pull off Iris’s robe, the silk fluttering to the ground, and Rowan strips off her knickers, then looks down at her no doubt messy cunt.

“You look so pretty covered in my blood, Lamb,” he rasps, his eyes hooded, and I walk from behind her to get a look.

Fuck. She’s stunning.

Three bloody handprints cover her slightly rounded stomach, as well as smears of red on her breasts, which really are swollen now that I can see them properly. I clench my teeth at the reminder that she hid her pregnancy from us for so long, worried about our reactions. That’s okay, I’ll take my frustrations out on her arse before I fill it up.

My gaze darts down to her pussy, slick and glistening with a mix of Rowan’s blood and her own release. He’s right, she does look good.

“I’m taking her arse. I thought you’d like those perfect lips,” I tell him, still looking at my wife, and her skin flushes pink all over. Fucking exquisite.

“Perfect,” Rowan murmurs, and I notice him stripping, then taking his hard cock in his bloody palm, smearing red all over it. I raise a brow, pursing my lips in thought before following suit, taking off my jeans and vest and doing the same, deciding I like the idea of filling her tight hole with my blood alongside my cock.

“On the bed, Peaches. Ride Roman’s cock,” I order her, and she blinks as if in a daze, her gaze fluttering from watching Rowan and I stroke ourselves to look beyond us as we step to the side.

On shaking legs, she walks towards the bed, climbing on and giving us the perfect view of that delectable arse I’m just about to fill and spank.

“Hey, Princess,” Roman coos as she wastes no time in straddling him. Looks like he had the same idea as us, using his blood to lube up too. There’s something about having our blood inside her and marking her that makes my inner beast preen and fucking purr in satisfaction. “Fuuuuck,” he moans as she lowers herself over him, impaling herself on his hard length.

My dick weeps pre-cum at the sight, and I promise myself that one day soon, I’m going to fuck him while he fucks her, pushing him deeper inside her.

I stalk towards the bed as his hands grip her hips, guiding her up and down his shaft, coating himself in her juices and his brother’s blood. Jesus, I always knew Rowan was a degenerate, but I didn’t realise how much I was too because that thought has electricity zapping up my spine, and I have to squeeze the base of my dick hard to calm myself.

I climb on the huge bed, big enough for all of us to sleep in, and they don’t even pause as I move behind her. I push between her shoulder blades until her beautiful arsehole is exposed and I can see Roman gliding in and out of her sopping pussy.

Bringing my fingers to her tight hole, the ones covered in blood, I push one in, and the moan she gives is nothing short of pornographic. I roughly thrust in and out, adding a second and then third finger to stretch her out and make her ready for my cock.

“Fuck— Hunt— Daddy— Shit,” she gasps, Roman pulsing underneath her, her skin shining with the sweat that now covers her all over.

Deciding she’s had enough prep, I pull my fingers out, her entire body seizing with an orgasm, the wet sound of her coming making my eyes fucking roll.

“That’s it, baby, cover me with your cum,” Roman grits out, pausing as I bring the head of my dick to her hole.

It’s a fight to get past the ring of tight muscle, her orgasm making her tense up in a way that threatens to undo me before I even get inside her fully. Clenching my jaw, I thrust hard, and she screams as I seat myself inside her warm hole.

“Shhhh, baby, you’re doing so well, taking Daddy so well in this tight hole,” I praise her, rubbing my hand up and down her spine as she trembles underneath me. It’s all I can do not to fucking come inside her right now, the feeling of Roman’s piercings against my dick making me feel wild.

I begin to move, not able to hold back any longer, and her whimpers turn to moans as Roman moves too, his fingers reaching between them to play with her clit. I give her time to adjust, then bring my hand back and smack it down hard on her arse cheek. She cries out as I do it to the other side.

“You won’t ever keep anything from us again, understood?” I snarl, smacking her once more. She needs to learn that she belongs to us, that we are never fucking leaving her, no matter what. “Answer me, baby.”

“N–no, Daddy,” she stammers, gasping when I smack once more, thrusting my dick hard inside her. “I–I p–promise.”

“Good girl,” I purr, rubbing the now reddened globes, then tangling my fingers in her hair and bringing her head up. Rowan is waiting, his dick right in front of her face. There’s a reason the bed is high, it’s the perfect height for her to swallow our cocks, or take them if she’s bent over it. “Now be Daddy’s extra special good girl and swallow his dick.”

He doesn’t give her time to say anything, Rowan parting her lips with the head of his cock as I guide her onto it, my hips thrusting forward and making her deep throat him straight away.

“Shit, Lamb,” Rowan moans, his hand wrapping around the front of her throat, which bulges with his dick buried down it. I hold her there, her pussy and arse tightening around Roman and me the more I deprive her of oxygen.

Then Rowan pulls back, allowing a rasping gasp of air past her throat before he thrusts forward again as I hold her still for us and we take what belongs to us. Lighting flashes up my spine, my teeth gritted as I fuck her arse hard, the feeling of Roman’s dick sliding against mine pushing me closer to the edge we are all heading towards.

“One more, baby,” Roman commands, and she gurgles and cries around Rowan’s dick as his brother fucks her and plays with her clit.

I rear my hand back, slapping her arse at the same time I thrust deep inside her, and it sets off a chain reaction. Her inner walls clench around us, and Roman yells as he thrusts so deep she screams again, his dick pulsing slightly as he fills her up.

Rowan pushes deeper in her throat, his head thrown back as he comes down her throat, her cries of pleasure muffled as he fills her up and she swallows every damn drop like our perfect cum slut.

I finally succumb, burying myself in her arse as my orgasm tears through me, my fingers tight in her hair and on her hip as the waves of pleasure drag me so far under that my vision blurs. Then she goes limp beneath me, and I open my eyes to see Roman no longer shoved down her throat and she’s slumped on top of Roman.

I pull out of her arse, watching with primal satisfaction as my cum leaks from her hole and dribbles down her crack. Rowan holds out a washcloth and I take it, using it to clean her up as she shudders and shivers on Roman, his body lax and satisfied.

Climbing off the bed, I drop the cloth in the laundry basket and go grab her some cold water from the fridge, taking a deep drink from my own bottle as my loose muscles twitch and quiver.

I walk over to the bed, finding her almost asleep on top of Roman. “Drink, baby,” I softly command, and she opens her eyes, her gaze fuzzy and so fucking adorable.

She purses her lips, and I place the straw I put in the bottle against her lips, watching as she drinks deeply, her throat working as she swallows almost the whole thing.

“Such a good girl, Princess,” Roman praises once she’s done, and she goes back to snuggling him. “Let Daddy help you into the bed while I clean up. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” she answers, her voice all kinds of husky after Rowan fucked her throat.

I help her off him while Rowan strips off the fluffy, waterproof blanket we bought to cover the bed, knowing that we wouldn’t be able to stop ourselves in time to not make a mess. Luckily I ordered several, though no more will get used tonight because my baby can barely keep her eyes open.

I settle under the covers, throwing the extra cushions off the side, then tug her into me. She wraps herself around me, her head nestled into the crook of my neck and her body becoming heavy almost immediately.

“Good night, Daddy,” she mumbles, her breath tickling my skin, and a lump forms in my throat at finally having her back in my arms and knowing that she’ll be here when I wake up too.

“Good night, baby,” I whisper, kissing her head just as the bed dips on either side of us, Roman snuggling up to my back and being the big spoon while Rowan shifts until there is no space between his front and Iris’s back.

My soul settles at having us all here together, safe and sound with all the new security we added to the flat and estate so Sergi will never be able to take her from us again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“SOME KIND OF DRUG” BY G-EZAY (FEAT MARC E. BASSY)

IRIS

Iwake up surrounded by delicious warmth, my body feeling at peace for the first time in so long tears prick the back of my eyes.

“Morning, Peaches,” Hunt rumbles from beside me, his voice all kinds of delicious and sexy from being asleep. “You doing okay?”

I gaze at him, our heads resting on the same pillow, and my heart is so full I think it might just burst out of my chest.

“I’m so much better than okay,” I reply, my breath catching when he gives me a smile, a real, genuine Hunter Anderson smile that has me melting into the soft bed underneath me.

“Do you want some breakfast? I know sometimes women get a bit queasy in the mornings,” he asks, his gaze travelling over my face, looking for any signs of discomfort.

“I’m fine, Daddy. The sickness seems to have passed for now. It was pretty shitty early on,” I confess, glancing away as I remember the times I hid it from them.

“I’m so fucking sorry you felt like you couldn’t come to us, baby,” he whispers, his fingers lightly gripping my chin and bringing my eyes back to his emerald gaze. “But I swear that from here on, you won’t need to hide ever again. I love you, Iris. I will always love you and I will love our baby so fucking much.”

The tears that were pricking my eyes when I woke up spills over, and he pulls my face closer, pressing his lips over the drops and kissing them away.

“I’m sorry I hid it. I just needed time to come to terms with it myself, you know?” I say, and he pulls back again, looking into my very soul with so much love I’m surprised I don’t fucking erupt.

“You don’t need to apologise, I get it. It’s a… Fuck, it’s a fucked up situation, but if something good, something precious can come from it, then it’s not all bad, right?” He sounds so vulnerable, so unsure that my gut twinges.

Reaching out, I cup his cheek, loving the rough texture of the scruff that covers the lower part of his face. “Sometimes the brightest light is the one we don’t see at first, but when we do finally discover it, it’s blinding.”

“Fuck, Iris,” he rasps, his voice thick as his eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “You’re my light, and I would stare into your brightness and blind myself just so I could keep looking.”

He closes the distance, his lips landing on mine in a gesture that is both reverent and fierce. He kisses me like he’ll never get enough, like he will spend the rest of his life content to stay here, and I melt into him, returning his fervour with my own.

Movement at my back as me curling like a cat scratching, hands stroking my body as lips press against my skin, Rowan nipping and sucking and sending my nerves haywire.

“Hey, no fair! I can’t reach!” Roman grumbles, and I break away from Hunter with a laugh.

“Equality in everything, huh?” I chuckle as Roman clambers over Hunt and rests on top of me, pushing me onto my back in the process. Every hard inch of him is pressed against me, his skin warm and smothering me in a heat that is like being wrapped in your favourite blanket while a storm rages outside.

“Absolutely!” He lowers his head, his lips hovering over mine. “Morning, Princess.”

My thighs part as his lips cover mine, and I gasp into his kiss when he thrusts his hips forward and seats himself to the hilt inside me with very little resistance.

“Ro…” I moan against his lips, lightning flashing across my body when his hips undulate in a slow, sensual rhythm.

“Fuck, you accept me so fucking good, Princess,” he groans, pecking my lips in time with his thrusts. “No lube required.”

“It’s the pregnancy,” I gasp, my legs coming up to wrap around him, the heat from Hunt and Rowan on either side of us seeping into my soul and building me higher.

“Another perk,” Roman murmurs, sucking my neck when I arch as he hits a particularly delicious spot.

“Time to share, brother,” Rowan commands while shoving Roman, who rolls onto his side, his dick still balls deep inside me. He hooks my top leg under his elbow and brings it higher, and moments later, Rowan is pushing himself alongside his twin, and I’m shaking, panting, and whining as they fill me so fucking good. “Fuck, I forgot how good you feel with another cock buried inside you.”

“Not just any cock, brother,” Roman teases, his voice rough as his words spill from gritted teeth. “Fuck, Hunt.”

I open my eyes to see Hunt behind Roman, his fingers digging into the other man’s hip as his hips move forward. Sparks light up my insides as I realise that while Rowan is pushing himself inside me, Hunt is doing the same to Roman.

“That’s it, Baby Boy. Take Daddy’s dick in this tight arsehole like the desperate slut you are,” Hunt growls as he thrusts forward, and it jerks Roman deeper inside me. I swear I come a little from just his words, sweat beading my skin as we all become connected in the most primal of ways.

With a grunt, Rowan finally seats himself deep, and my eyes roll at how full I feel. Then Hunt and Rowan wastes no time in setting the pace, fucking Roman and I hard and deep until I’m screaming, clawing at Roman’s skin as wave after wave of ecstasy hits me. It’s like I can’t stop coming, barely able to catch my breath as the pleasure consumes me whole.

Roman is next to come, yelling as he buries his face into my neck and his dick deep inside my cunt. His fingers dig into my flesh, no doubt leaving bruises that I will cherish.

“Fuck, Lamb,” Rowan growls, thrusting so deep inside me I scream again, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he fills me with his cum alongside his brother.

I lie helpless as Hunt fucks Roman into me, coming with a roar and making Roman whimper with the force of his final thrust.

“Fuck, baby. I filled your arse up so full,” Hunt rumbles, and I shudder, shock waves still making me twitch and my pussy pulse in time with my heartbeat.

Finally, we all still, lying there and panting, trying to relearn what gravity feels like after departing the earth with the force of our pleasure.

Or maybe I’m just projecting because fucking hell, that fried my brain a little.

“Time for breakfast,” Hunt states, Roman gasping when Hunt pulls out of him and slaps him on the arse. “Make sure you clean our girl up, but you will keep my cum in that tight hole all day, Baby Boy.”

I crack my lids in time to see him striding to the bathroom, his tight arse entirely too biteable. The sound of the tap running hits my ears, but I’m still too blissed out to move, so I lie there and listen to Hunt quickly wash up, then watch as he comes back into the room, grabs a pair of sweatpants, and tugs them on before leaving with a heated look our way.

“I’ll get the shower going,” Rowan offers, pulling out of me, and the rush of liquid that leaves my poor aching pussy is obscene. He places a soft kiss over the place that he bit, which throbs a little, and then gets out of bed, heading to the bathroom.

“Fuck, that was…intense.” Roman chuckles, rolling to his back and pulling me over him.

“Have you and Hunt done that before?” I ask, peering up at him. His cheeks are flushed and he has this satisfied smile on his gorgeous face that makes my heart race.

“Not for a long time, and it was better than I remember, especially with you here wrapped around my dick,” he tells me, looking down and giving me a salacious grin. “I think you enjoyed it too, given how wet the sheets are.”

My cheeks heat, then my nose scrunches as the wet patch I’m currently in cools.

The twins help me to shower, and we manage to just barely keep it PG so that by the time we enter the kitchen, our breakfast is laid out for us and still hot. The new dining table, which is a round, carved, chunky wooden one, is covered in plates of all my favourite foods. Pancakes, waffles, crispy bacon—who the fuck eats un-crispy bacon?—fluffy eggs, and a jug of juice.

“This smells incredible, Daddy,” I marvel, skipping over to him and planting a smacking kiss on his plush lips. “Thank you.”

I go to pull away, but his large hand darts out, wrapping round the front of my throat and holding me in a firm, but not painful, grip.

“I’ll always take care of you, baby,” he says in a low whisper, like it’s a sacred vow, and a full-body shudder takes over me, which has his lips tipping up in a feline grin.

Then he dips his head, his fingers flexing against my pulse as his lips brush against mine in the barest kiss that has a wanton moan leaving my lips, even though poor Evangeline twinges from this morning’s abuse.

With that shit-eating grin, he pulls back, eyes locked on mine as he releases my throat, and pulls out my chair. My chest is flushed and heaving as I take my seat, Rowan sitting next to me. Roman goes to step around to the other side of the table, but lightning fast, Hunt has him in the same hold that he had me moments ago, his hand wrapped round the front of Roman’s throat.

“Same goes for you, Baby Boy,” Hunt growls, and my temperature soars when he slams his lips on Roman’s in a brutal kiss and devours him. I rub my thighs together as I watch them, the sight getting me all kinds of hot and bothered.

They tear apart, Roman looking as dazed as I feel, Rowan laughing next to me.

“Next time I’m inside that beautiful cunt,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my ear as his fingers brush the skin on my thigh, making me regret wearing shorts today. “I’m going to mark that pretty skin with my knife.”

I let out a shuddering exhale at the visual, knowing that Rowan’s marks will be permanent and suddenly needing them on my body.

My erotic thoughts are interrupted by Hunter’s phone ringing on the side, so as Roman sits down, Hunt answers it.

“Prince, what’s up?” he greets, and my forehead bunches until I remember that’s one of Ember’s stepbrothers. I watch, hardly breathing as Hunt’s posture goes rigid, his eyes coming up to meet mine as he listens intently to what Prince is saying. “We only just got her home, man. I’m not sure we can leave her so soon.” I’m up and rushing around the table, my hands around his arm. “One sec.”

“Is Ember okay?” I ask, and he gives me a nod, my tense muscles loosening. “Okay, then whatever it is,” I say, pleading with my eyes. “Please go and help.”

“Baby…” He sighs, his chest heaving with a breath. “It would mean that all three of us would have to leave you alone. I’m just not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’ll be fine. Leave all the men you like to guard me, and you said before, Sergi can’t take me again without offending The Fallen. I’ll be okay, Daddy, but my friend needs your help.” I watch as his nostrils flare, his jaw tightening before he gives me another curt nod.

“Okay, we’ll round them up a week from today and meet you there. Ten PM,” he says into the phone, and a smile splits my lips before I throw my arms around him when he hangs up, his immediately encasing me and pulling me close.

“What’s occurring, boss?” Roman asks from the table, and I pull back, letting Hunt take my hand and lead me back to the table.

He helps me into my seat again, taking the one next to me. “They know who Ember’s abusers are,” he tells us, and my appetite vanishes. “And we will be helping them and her get closure in seven day’s time.”

“I’m glad. Monsters like that should pay,” I say, my hand trembling as I reach for the cup of juice that Hunt pours for me. I can’t help thinking of my own monster, one who isn’t paying yet for what he did to me, but one day he will, and like Ember, I want to be there.

I pause, thoughts racing in my head as I think about what I would do to Sergi, what I will do to him when the time comes.

“Nik is right to wait,” I announce suddenly, and I look at each of my guys, who’ve all frozen in filling up their plates. “With Sergi, I mean. It’s not enough to kill him. To wipe him from the earth. His life should be ripped from him, everything he’s ever worked for taken from him first. I want him to die knowing that he’s lost everything, and that in the end, no one will even remember who he was because he became so unimportant.”

Rowan’s lip tilts up into a smile that frankly is fucking terrifying. “Then that’s what we will do, Lamb,” he coos, his voice soft as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “We will take everything that was once his and make it our own. Make him watch as his empire crumbles and is stolen from him, and only when he’s at his lowest point, with nothing, will you give him the killing blow.”

“Me?” I ask, my voice uncertain even as something inside of me flares with anticipation.

“Of course, Lamb. His blood will flow over your fingers, and then I will fuck you in it as he breathes his last breath and the light leaves his eyes.”

A shiver leaves goosebumps pebbling my skin. His words should appal me, should make me want to run away screaming, but they don’t. Instead, my lips tug up into a smile that matches his, my dark Shadow.

“Okay.” The air changes around us, like my acceptance of this dark and diabolical plan has sealed our fates.

“Fuck, that is so hot,” Roman groans, and I giggle, sliding a look his way as he adjusts his very much tented grey sweatpants. “But we get to carve him up a bit too, right?”

I outright laugh as he gives me puppy dog eyes, like he’s asking for candy.

“If you’re a good boy,” I tease, and his innocent look goes molten. I must remember he has a praise kink to match mine.

“I can be a very, very good boy for you, Princess,” he purrs, pushing his chair back and dropping out of sight.

Then he proceeds to show me exactly how good he can be.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“I’M WITH YOU” BY VANCE JOY

IRIS

The next few days pass in a blur of way too many orgasms. It’s like we’re making up for lost time and can’t keep our hands off each other. The guys postpone any Shadows’ business to spend lots of time with me, and we’re happy to stay in the flat and just breathe each other in.

The night of Ember’s revenge comes though, and I remind myself that I need to get in touch with her and maybe organise a meet up soon. It’s strange because I thought I’d be desperate to get out into the world after the past few weeks of being at Serene Haven, but I’m not, not yet anyway. I can feel a small itch starting, but for the moment, I’m happy to be in our home with my guys.

I watch from our massive bed as they all get ready, dressed head to toe in black and looking fucking edible.

“You keep looking at us like that, Peaches, and we’ll be late,” Hunt muses as he grabs his gun and tucks it into a hidden holster underneath his black hoodie.

My cheeks flush as a throb of need flares within me. “Sorry.”

“You never need to apologise for perving on us, Princess,” Roman teases, giving me a wink from across the room.

A very unladylike bark of laughter leaves my lips, one that would have the matron of my old finishing school shuddering, but I don’t care about being a lady, not anymore. The smile is fixed on my lips as I look at my guys, my Shadows, who love me for exactly who I am.

“I love you all, so fucking much,” I say, my voice a little choked as I get to my feet and take the few steps towards Rowan, who is closest to me.

“I love you too, Lamb,” he replies, his hand cupping my cheek in that way he does which makes my toes curl. Then he drops a soft kiss on my forehead, his lips pressed against my skin and sending warmth flowing through me.

“Me too, princess,” Roman says behind me, his strong arms wrapping me up and making me feel so fucking safe tears prick my eyes. “So fucking much.” His lips press kisses on my neck, his breath tickling my skin as he breathes deeply.

“I love you, wife,” Hunt says, striding over to us and sliding his hand around me, cupping the swell of my stomach, which my cropped tank top gives perfect access to. He’s been touching my belly every chance he gets, which means more than any words because it shows me his acceptance of our baby, despite its conception.

His lips press against my temple, and I gasp as said baby gives a mighty kick. Hunt freezes, his chest not even moving with his breath. I look up to find him wide-eyed, staring down at his hand.

“Did you feel that too?” I ask quietly, and he swallows, nodding his head just as another kick happens.

“Fuck, that’s our baby, Peaches,” he gasps, his eyes glistening as they fill with joy.

“I wanna feel!” Roman whines, sliding his hand around and underneath Hunt’s. Our baby is clearly feeling indulgent as it gives another kick, and Roman laughs. “Shit! Our baby is strong.”

Another hand finds a space on my stomach and I look up into Rowan’s amber eyes, watching as they fill with wonder when our baby keeps kicking, clearly trying to show off for its dads.

“You are an exceptional woman, Iris,” Rowan whispers, and I have to swallow hard because there is so much emotion inside me that it’s a wonder I can breathe.

The warmth of their hands seep into me, our baby deciding that it’s done for the evening and the movement stopping.

“We will be back before it gets light, hopefully not much later than one,” Hunt tells me, his fingers giving a final brush before he steps away. The others follow, but Hunt takes my hand, leading me out of our bedroom and towards the main living room. “And we’ve got some company for you so you won’t get bored.”

He flinches when I squeal, finding Johnny in the living room alongside Dayton, Rufus, and Joe.

“Damn, girl, you look like you’ve nonstopped fucked since you got out!” Johnny laughs as I launch myself into his arms. “Not that I can blame you with all that man meat you’ve got.”

“Careful, Brat,” Rufus growls, and I pull away to find Johnny blushing.

“Seems I’m not the only one with a butcher’s shop full of meat, huh?” I tease, and he goes even redder, which is just fucking hilarious. “Hey, Dayton.” I peer over Johnny’s shoulder to see an equally blushing Dayton. Shit, I forgot he was like, only fourteen.

“H–hey, Iris. Nice to see you again,” Dayton—or Bubby as the guys call him—stammers, looking around the room. He’s still wearing the dark hoodie I always used to see him in, hood up and most of his face hidden.

“Are you staying here with me too?” I question, stepping out of Johnny’s embrace to pull Dayton into a hug. I didn’t really see him when I came back from Sergi, or maybe I wasn’t paying attention because I was in such a dark place. “It’s so good to see you.”

He stiffens for a moment, but I just keep hold of him, and within a moment, he’s relaxing in my arms and wrapping his around me. For fourteen, the kid is tall, so he has to bend down a little, but the way his body heaves out a sigh makes me wonder if anyone has ever hugged him before. I make a mental note to do it more and chat with the guys to see what’s going on with his dad.

“Y–yep, I’m going to be here with you guys tonight too,” he tells me, a smile on his lips as he steps away.

“Don’t worry, kid, we’ll keep the dick talk to a minimum so as not to pollute your innocent mind with our debauchery,” Johnny casually assures him, linking his arm with mine as I stare at him, slacked-jawed.

“Fucks sake, Johnny!” I scold, shaking my head as poor Dayton turns a deeper shade of red. “Ignore him, Dayton.”

I glance up to find my guys giving Rufus and Joe fist bumps and nods. Hunt catches my eyes, coming over to me and taking my face in his hands, ignoring Johnny, whose arm is still linked with mine.

“Rufus and Joe are staying inside the flat until we get back, Bubby too, and we’ve more men posted outside and around the estate,” he tells me, his brows furrowed as his eyes dart between mine. “We shouldn’t be more than a few hours, and we’re not far away, just the other side of Chelsea, but I’ll message you when we’re done.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I reply, ignoring the swooning noise that Johnny makes when Hunt leans in and claims my lips in a kiss that I feel to my very soul. Then Hunt pulls away, his hands leaving my face to drift down to my stomach, brushing it with a soft caress.

“See you soon, Princess,” Roman says as soon as Hunt moves aside, taking his place and gliding his hand through my hair to angle my head and cover my lips with his.

“Love a man who takes charge,” Johnny whispers, and both Ro and I grin, breaking the kiss. His hand lets go of my hair, his fingers trailing along my jaw as his eyes devour me, promising me fun when he gets home later.

He steps away with a grin, then his eyes widen. “Fuck! Almost forgot the marshmallows!” he gasps, turning on his booted heel and striding to the kitchen.

“Marshmallows?” I murmur as Rowan appears in front of me.

“Best not to ask,” he says with a twitch of his lips, then holds up something, and it takes me a moment to realise it’s a knife, a switchblade like the one he gave me before that Sergi stole. “Keep this on you, at all times, yeah?”

He stashes the blade into the pocket of my shorts, tucking his fingers into the pocket and using that to close the distance between us. Of course Johnny doesn’t let go of my arm, fucking degenerate.

Roo doesn’t say anything, just slams his lips onto mine and destroys me with his kiss, leaving my knees weak and my pulse thrumming in my veins. As quickly as it started, he ends it, giving me a searing look before he turns around and strides out of the flat, Hunt and Roman already having left sometime when Rowan was inhaling me.

“Shit, girl. That one is a scary motherfucker, but in the way that you would thank him for playing with your insides,” Johnny breathes out, two growls from the wall by the door snapping my fuzzy head up, finding Rufus and Joe both with narrowed eyes, staring at my friend.

“I think you are going to get spanked later, babe,” I tell him, recognising the way the two Shadows stare at my friend with lust in their eyes. After all, my guys have definitely looked at me the same way, and it’s usually a lot of fun afterwards.

“Why do you think I keep saying shit like that in front of them?” Johnny stage whispers in my ear, and I huff a laugh. “Gotta keep them on their toes, you know. Anywho, tell me why the fuck this is the first I’m hearing about a bun in the fucking oven.”

“ASTRONOMICAL” BY SVCINA

ROWAN

I roll my eyes at my brother, who is a fucking idiot, trying to roast marshmallows on the mansion that burns in front of us.

“This is becoming a specialty of ours,” Hunt says from beside me, folding his arms in front of himself as he watches Roman too. The light of the fire reflects in his eyes, making him look like some kind of demon.

“Maybe we should add it to our résumés,” I reply, and he huffs a laugh, both of us facing forward once more, watching as those fucking scum cease to exist.

“Come, we need to get rid of these cars and get out of here,” Hunt orders, though he doesn’t rush. The flames won’t be noticed for a while, this estate in the middle of fucking London is big enough that no one will see them until the bodies of Ember’s rapists have turned to ash.

We walked here, and so all we need to do is dispatch the four cars those arseholes drove and the job is done. Four monsters now in hell rather than roaming the earth, hurting innocents. Sometimes it pays to be morally grey, to be able to hurt those who get off on the power they wield over others.

Roman finishes his foolishness with the marshmallows just as a Shadow approaches us. We called one of our other guys for backup, there only being three of us and four cars to get rid of. Luckily, selling stolen cars is also a specialty of ours, so this should be easy.

Hunt hands me the keys to the McLaren, a gaudy red thing that is highly sought after on the black market. I swap the plates for some that we had made for this occasion, the old ones will be destroyed and voilà, the car is lost, never to be found again.

My mind drifts back to my Lamb as we leave the burning mansion behind us, heading to the underground car park we have so we can remove the tracking devices without a trace. There, we will meet more of our guys who will take the cars to Dover, to the docks where the cars will be driven onto various shipping containers and sent to buyers across the globe.

I can’t believe how much my life has changed, how much I have changed since she’s been in it. I used to be so…blank. A true shadow, drifting through life, and then she stormed in, shining a light on all the dark places that were taking me over, banishing them.

I almost slipped back into the shadows when she was taken, almost gave in to the darkness again, but still, she wouldn’t let me, the mere thought of her was enough to keep me from descending into the depths.

Now she brings even more light into our lives, a child for us to cherish and love. I never gave much thought to being a father, never realised how much it was something that I wanted until she told us her secret.

And I don’t give a fuck if Sergi Petrov is the biological father. He’ll be dead soon, so it won’t make a difference anyway. We will be all the fathers that baby needs, Nikolai too. Though that must be a head fuck, being the father to your brother. I know he’ll rise to the occasion though, being just as deprived of light as the rest of us.

We just need to tell him first, make him understand that it’s not just us anymore, not just Iris, and with her birthday next week, I have the perfect plan.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“INNOCENCE” BY NATHAN WAGNER

NIKOLAI

Unknown: Holland Park Opera, 7pm this Friday for Iris’s birthday. You’re the surprise present, sweetheart.

My heart thuds inside my chest, my hand trembling slightly as I read the text message clearly from Hunter, if the nickname is any indication. I can’t believe I almost forgot about her birthday. I used to make sure to send her an iris flower every year, even when I was in a Russian prison cell. I never signed my name, it was too dangerous, but this year, I can give it to her in person.

“The assistant police commissioner has agreed to meet, boss,” Dima tells me gruffly, interrupting my thoughts. I look up at him, adrenaline flooding my bloodstream and leaving me breathless.

Things are moving forward. If I can get him on my side, it’s another way to not only protect myself from any legal fallout from my takeover, but it’s another nail in the coffin of my father. The plan is simple; give Assistant Police Commissioner Brant evidence that his boss is corrupt, enough to get the current Police Commissioner fired and Brant can take his place, thus giving me my own man in a position of power.

“Excellent. Invite him to Holland Park Opera this Friday, 7pm, and we can do the handover then. Tell him to wear a tux,” I instruct, and Dima nods, turning back to his encrypted laptop and sending the message. We can’t be too careful, especially as we’re still in the lion’s den, so to speak.

“We’re going to the opera?” Andrei asks, a twinkle in his eyes. A grin splits my lips, a true smile that rarely graces my face these days.

“It’s Iris’s birthday, and apparently I’m to be her surprise gift,” I tell my friend, watching as happiness floods his features. That’s the sign of a true friendship, the fact he’s overjoyed for me knowing what seeing her will mean to me.

“Then Dima and I best dust off our tuxes too. Can’t leave you to have all the fun, and I hear their production of Madame Butterfly is exquisite.” Andrei sighs and I chuckle. He’s a huge fan of the arts, particularly opera, but with our line of work, we don’t often get to indulge in our pleasures just for the simple enjoyment of them.

“I’ll tell Sergi that I’m buttering up Brant. He wants me to focus on the next generation anyway, too arrogant to realise we are the ones that will take over one day,” I tell them, my voice low even though I know that no one can hear us. Plus my father is out doing business, setting up his next vile auction, which dampens my excitement at seeing Iris again.

“I’ll get the files ready to hand over,” Dima states, going back to work and pulling out a USB file, sticking it into his laptop, and no doubt copying over some of the files I stole from Sergi’s laptop.

He was raging for days afterwards, but no one could find evidence of a break-in. He did mention the missing knife, but as I’d not seen it other than in his safe, I could quite honestly deny all knowledge of it. My lips twitch, realising that I can give it back to Moy Solntse as an extra present.

Taking my phone from my pocket, I open my contact who has managed to source irises for me over the years. It’s not quite the right time of year for them here in the UK, but she always comes through and finds me one.

My smile returns as she assures me she has already sourced a flower, a rare heritage bloom called Swerti Iris. A picture comes through moments later, showcasing a stunning, creamy flower with purple edging and curling petals.

Perfection.

My pulse is fast in my veins as I survey the crowd around me, the collar of my black shirt with matching bow tie feeling too tight around my neck. I wanted to look good for my Kotenok though, so I went the full hog and must say I feel pretty fucking dapper.

“Petrov,” a man’s voice greets from beside me where I lean against the bar, and I glance next to me to find Brant, wearing a clearly off-the-peg suit.

“Brant, thank you for coming,” I say, signalling the bartender for another vodka. At least they know how to serve it properly here, top-shelf Russian vodka in a frozen glass.

“I was intrigued by your proposal,” he says, his voice low as he accepts the glass and takes a sip. His face scrunches and I can’t help laughing.

“Vodka not to your liking, Brant?” I ask, and he chuckles ruefully.

“I’m more of an ale man myself,” he replies, placing his glass down.

With a sleight of hand that looks years to perfect, I slip the USB into his suit pocket, glancing around us and keeping a smile on my face. The worst thing to do is to look like I’m hiding something.

“On that drive is all the information you’ll need to replace your boss,” I tell him, and he blinks before his face goes back to his disarming smile.

“And your price for such information?” he enquires. Smart man.

“I may need you to turn your cheek from time to time in the coming months, but my main requirement is that you are my man. No one else’s.” I stare into his hazel eyes, not dissimilar to Iris’s.

“Not even…” He doesn’t say my father’s name, but we both know who he is asking about.

“My man. No other’s,” I reaffirm. “Do we have a deal, Commissioner?” He licks his lips, then gives a sharp nod. “Excellent. It’s about time the next generation had their turn, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, I think you are right there,” he replies, and I hold my glass out in a toast. He picks his up, clinking the glass and taking another sip, even as his lips pucker again.

“Enjoy the performance, Commissioner,” I say, my attention caught on the door as a vision steps in after a hulking Shadow.

All else is forgotten as I watch Iris, sparkling in a beaded gown that steals the very breath from my lungs. Usually, Holland Park is informal, but tonight is a special performance, a charity fundraiser, so everyone is dressed to the nines, but my beautiful Kotenok outshines them all.

I pick up the bunch of Swerti Iris from the bar, her knife tucked safely in my pocket, and follow them from a distance. Not that the Shadows don’t know I’m here. Not only did they invite me, but Hunt clocked me as soon as he walked in, and I’m glad. Iris needs that kind of protection on her, at least until my father no longer walks this earth.

The fifteen-minute call for people to take their seats sounds around us, and I enter the auditorium a few people behind me, knowing that my seat is right next to my Dorogaia. My heart pounds, my body tingling as I take my seat just after the lights go dark.

Leaning over slightly, I drop the flowers into her lap. “Happy birthday, Malyshka.”

I watch as the sun’s final rays decorate her face, her mouth parted and eyes glittering as she stares at me as if nothing else exists. It’s a look that makes my chest tight. No one has ever looked at me like I’m worth that much, no one but her.

“Nik,” she whispers, quickly glancing around us as her hands take the flowers. She looks down, then her head snaps back up, her eyes wide. “All these years, it was you sending me irises on my birthday?”

“Da, Moy Solntse,” I whisper, my fingers twitching with the need to reach out and brush her cheek, feel her soft skin against my own, but even though Dima, Andrei, and I all checked to make sure none of my father’s men are here, it’s still a risk. Even sitting next to her is one, but I couldn’t not be beside her, even if it’s just for a little while.

“Oh, Nik,” she breathes out, clutching the flowers just as the opening bars of the first act sounds around us, but it’s all muffled, nothing else is real aside from the goddess in front of me. Her eyes glisten as tears fill them, and it tears me in two, not being able to hold her.

I slide my hand down between us, and she glances down, inhaling sharply, then reaches her own hand to brush her fingers against mine. I tangle our hands together, turning to face the front.

“Watch the show, Moy Solntse. We can find somewhere private later to catch up,” I whisper, seeing her nod out of the corner of my eye as she too turns to face the stage.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Nik,” she murmurs, but I hear it, my whole body attuned to hers.

“Me too, Malyshka.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“ONE FINE DAY (UN BEL DI) (FROM MADAME BUTTERFLY)” BY GIACOMO PUCCINI, KATHERINE JENKINS

IRIS

Ican hardly concentrate on the performance in front of me, wonderful as I’m sure it is, because Nik, my Nik, is right beside me. His warmth seeps into my leg, his own spread wide in a way that would normally have me scoffing at a man needing so much room, but the space he takes up is justified. Plus it allows me to feel him more than just the clasp of our hands.

It’s the sweetest torture, to have him so close but be too afraid to touch him fully. I don’t know how he knew we’d be here, though a quick glance at Hunt’s smug smile gives me some clue, and it makes me love my Shadowmen even more, knowing that they organised this so I could see Nik on my birthday.

The first act is stunning, the music adding to my own heartache and anticipation. There are also those damned butterflies, the sharp kind, on account of the secret that Nik hasn’t discovered yet but I need to tell him about.

How do you tell the man you’re in love with that you’re carrying his father’s child though? A child he knows was put there in the worst circumstances.

What a shitshow.

The first act finally comes to a close, the applause loud, but all I can focus on is Nik beside me, on being so close, and soon perhaps being in his arms. Then the lights come on and the audience stands.

“Come, Peaches,” Hunt says from my other side, taking the flowers from my hand and helping me to my feet.

Nik is slower to stand, and I see the moment his eyes alight on my bump, feel it in the way he grips my hand. I freeze, Hunt looking down at Nik, who’s still staring at my stomach, his chest barely moving.

“Petrov,” Hunt hisses quietly, and it’s enough to have Nik’s head snapping up, his deep chocolate eyes locked on my face, which I know is drained of all colour. “Come with us and we will explain. Not here.”

Nik’s jaw clenches, but he gives a sharp nod, letting my hand go as Hunt tugs me in front of him. It’s like a piece of my soul has been ripped away, and tears flood my eyes as we are swallowed up in the crowd leaving the auditorium, most heading to the bar.

We take another route, towards the gates we entered but are going to be closed for the evening. The twins are ahead of us, and I barely register someone opening the gates, money exchanged as we slip through, Nik following us moments later.

We remain silent as Roman leads us to the Chinese gardens, the sound of the water trickling down the man-made river attempting to be soothing, but it’s not enough. My hands tremble, my throat tight with what I know will be explosive. I can feel it in the air and it leaves me feeling nauseous.

As soon as we enter the garden, Nik grasps my upper arm and spins me around, Hunt growling behind me.

“Tell me it’s not his,” Nik snarls, and a sob leaves my mouth, unable to form any words. The anger drains from his face, his skin pale in the moonlight. “Tvoyu mat bliad!”

He spins, his back to me as he rakes his hands through his hair. Hunt is at my back, his hands coming around and cupping my stomach, lending me strength.

“It’s our baby, yours too,” Hunt states, and Nik freezes, his chest heaving as he slowly spins back to face me. “I don’t give a fuck if your rapist father is its bio dad. It’s. Ours.”

Nik swallows, his gaze flicking down to where Hunt cups my rounded stomach.

“I–I had a choice,” I tell him, and his face turns up to look at me, his hair a mess, his eyes wild. “I found out when I went into Serene Haven and could have gotten rid of it.” I step away from Hunt, my hands taking Nik’s limp ones into my grasp and placing them where Hunt’s palms just were. He doesn’t flinch, good sign. “But I couldn’t do it, Nik. I couldn’t kill this innocent baby just because its father is a monster.”

The skin around his eyes bunches, his gaze pained as he looks into my eyes. “But you had an IUD, Solnishko. How is it even possible…” He trails off as Hunt clears his throat, and I hold my breath, knowing that he’s going to kick off if Hunt tells him the truth.

“I took it out, before she was taken. It’s my fault, all of i—” Hunt doesn’t get to finish, Rowan tugging me out of the way as Nikolai launches himself at Hunter with a furious roar. His fist connects with Hunt’s face, and the leader of the Shadows doesn’t even stop him, like he deserves the beating.

“Please! Stop them, Ro! Roo!” I beg, my hands coming up to cover my mouth as Nik lands blow after blow and Hunt takes it.

“They need this, Princess,” Roman says softly, stepping in front of me to block my view. It doesn’t stop the sounds, accompanied by the most beautiful music. “Hunt needs this to ease the guilt.”

“B–but, this isn’t his fault!” I sob, tears scalding hot paths down my cheeks, and Rowan wraps my shaking body in his arms.

“Shhh, Lamb. We know, but he feels like he’s responsible,” he tells me, kissing the side of my temple while Roman cups my face in his hands and kisses away my tears. “Petrov won’t hurt him too much.”

The grunts behind Roman ease, and Roman continues kissing a path down my neck, sending tingles in his wake that are not fucking appropriate given the situation. He’s moved enough to allow me to see Nik and Hunt, both panting, their clean-cut looks ruined as blood decorates Hunt’s face, dripping from his nose and split lip.

I take in a sharp gasp as Roman tugs one of my breasts free and seals his mouth over my nipple, sucking and tugging at my peak in just the way that drives me mad. It draws the attention of both men in front of us, their stares morphing from spent rage to lust in an instant. Rowan frees the other breast, giving it the same lavish treatment, and a deep moan falls from my lips, the backdrop of the opera, the soft summer nighttime breeze all adding to the sensory experience.

My gaze ping-pongs between them as Roman drops to his knees on the dirt path, Rowan cupping my breasts and playing with them as Roman inches up the skirt of my dress, the air tickling my hot skin.

“Such a beautiful pussy,” Ro purrs, clearly admiring the lace underwear that hides nothing. “Let’s see how wet she is for us, shall we?”

Nik stalks towards us, his hand disappearing into his pocket and pulling something out.

“You might need this, Lev,” he states, and my mouth drops open as the moonlight hits the light of my knife, the one Rowan gave me and that Sergi stole.

“Thanks, Sir,” Roman replies, taking the knife and using it to cut away my underwear.

Then he hands the knife back to Nik, who takes it, leaving the blade open as his eyes devour me.

“I’m sorry, for how I reacted,” he says, swallowing as Roman pauses, letting me focus on Nik. “I would be honoured to help parent our child. It shares my DNA after all.”

“I’d like that,” I whisper, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

He gives me a smile that is full of such hope, such longing that I reach out and cup his cheek, pulling his lips to mine. A small sob leaves my throat at the first touch of our lips. It's like coming home after so long away you wonder how you even recognise the place, but you do, because it goes bone-deep, this feeling of safety, of contentment.

Just as my lips part to allow his tongue to slide into my mouth, Roman licks a stripe up my slit and Nik swallows my moan of pleasure, the hand not holding the knife coming up to tangle into my hair and pulls me closer. My leg is lifted, Rowan supporting me from behind as Roman buries his face in Evangeline, the sounds of his feasting overlaid with the beautiful opera behind us.

Pleasure fills my every atom, my eyes closed as three of my men show me what it must feel like to be favoured by the stars. Roman grunts, and I pull away from Nik’s lips to find Hunt at my side, his hand tangled in the other man’s hair and pushing him into me, making Roman go deeper with his tongue until my eyes roll.

“That’s it, Baby Boy. Spear her with your dirty fucking tongue,” Hunt orders, and both Roman and I groan at his dirty words.

“Eyes on me, Kotenok,” Nik commands, and my eyes move to him, finding that he’s brought the blade up, still open and gleaming in the moonlight. My chest heaves as his eyes dart down to the tops of my breasts. “Hold them still for me.”

I feel Rowan nod, and watch, not daring to breathe as Nik brings the tip of the knife to my right breast, just above the faint mark that Rowan left there. My breathing turns shallow as the cool metal makes contact with my feverish skin, a pained hiss escaping my lips when he digs it in. Then a bead of red wells at the tip, and he continues to cut down, the sweet agony mixing with the pleasure of Roman’s tongue until I’m shaking and cursing.

“My mark will be over your heart, as yours is branded into mine, Kotenok,” Nik declares, my eyes rolling when Roman sucks my clit into his mouth as Nik carves the letter N into my flesh.

It’s too much, the pain, the pleasure, the music and night around us, and my orgasm is like a supernova forming, tearing me apart and leaving something new in its place. I open my mouth to scream, the feeling so intense, but Hunt’s hand covers my mouth and nose, cutting off my air and just sending me that much higher.

My body locks up, the waves of pleasure so intense tears leak from my eyes. My hands grasp Nik’s forearm and Rowan’s, my nails digging into their suit jackets as I just keep fucking coming.

Finally, when I’m a twitching, sweaty, and bloody mess, Hunt tugs Roman away from my core, letting me inhale a gasping breath just as Nik lifts the blade from my skin. My vision is blurred, but it’s enough to see Nik hand the blade to Rowan behind me, his hands at the crotch of his suit pants and undoing them, his beautiful dick springing free. The tip glistens with pre-cum, and I see Hunt dragging Roman up by his hair, slamming his lips to Roman’s and growling as he tastes my release on them.

“Eyes. On. Me,” Nik growls, my attention turning to him as he dips down and takes both my thighs in his arms, lifting me and forcing me back against Rowan, who braces with a grunt. “Put me inside you. Now.”

My trembling hands reach between us, past the beaded fabric of my dress, and I find him hard and waiting, the skin of his shaft soft as silk. I’ve just lined him up with my sopping entrance when he thrusts forward, seating himself inside me in one move that leaves me gasping, my hands digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, Nik!” I cry as he pulls out just to punch back inside me, his piercing rubbing all the right places and sending electric sparks running across my nerve endings.

“This belongs to me, Kotenok,” he snarls, his hips thrusting and his hands digging into my thighs, helping to pull me down onto his dick every time his hips move.

“He means it belongs to us,” Roo teases in my ear, nibbling at the sensitive skin behind it. It was clearly said to rile Nik, because he snarls like a wolf and fucks into me harder, cursing in Russian.

I throw my head back against Rowan’s shoulder, letting them hold me as Nik fucks me so hard another orgasm threatens to steal my soul from my body.

“Come for me, Kotenok. Right. Fucking. Now,” Nik commands, and I’m helpless to resist as he grinds deep inside me, his pelvis rubbing my poor swollen clit and causing me to explode with a cry of pleasure.

Lights dance in front of my eyes, the crescendo of the opera masking my cries as pleasure takes over my entire being, leaving me trembling and barely able to breathe.

Nik pounds into me, once, twice, then stills, coming with a deep growl that raises all the hair on my spent body. He keeps pulsing his hips, like he can’t get enough of the sweet torture even as I tremble and shake in his and Rowan’s arms. Then his forehead drops to mine, both of us sweaty, but I don’t care as I breathe him in.

“I could never get enough of this, Solnishko. Never have enough of you,” he pants, buried inside me, and I cling to him, trying to pull him closer because I know that this will come to an end. Tonight is like a dream, and with the morning, it will fade into smoke and he will be gone again.

“I wish you could stay with us. I hate it when you’re not there,” I confess, tears stinging my eyes and making my throat thicken.

“One day, Solnishko. Then I can take care of you both and I’ll never have to leave again,” he replies in a whisper, letting my legs drop to the ground, his dick slipping out with a wet gush. His hands frame my stomach, and I can’t stop the tears that fall as he starts to softly sing a Russian lullaby.

His song comes to an end and I can hardly breathe as he sighs, dropping his hands from my stomach and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I love you, Nikolai Petrov. So, so much,” I choke out, and he pulls me into his arms, Rowan releasing me and stepping back, allowing us this moment. Because all Nik and I have are a series of stolen moments, and I fucking hate it.

“I love you, Moy Solntse,” he whispers against my hair, his own body strung tight, his voice thick. “And I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

I take a shuddering inhale, my soul fracturing into a thousand pieces when he pulls away.

“Stay safe, please,” I manage to say, his image blurring as he cups my face in his palms, his eyes drinking me in. He dips his head, not saying a word, because how can he make that promise when Sergi is his father?

The kiss he gives me tastes like heartache, like a longing so strong it can drown you, and it’s over far too soon. Warmth surrounds me the moment he steps back, the twins bracketing me either side and supporting me as my knees threaten to give out.

I watch, tears burning a path down my cheeks as Nik gives me a final searing look, nods to Hunt, and then disappears into the dark. I watch him until the darkness swallows him whole, a shiver travelling down my spine at the horrible image.

“Let’s get you home, Princess,” Roman suggests softly, and I nod, knowing that I won’t enjoy the rest of the performance, not now that Nik is gone.

“Thank you, for organising this and for inviting Nik,” I say as we make our way towards one of the gates in the park. “It really was the best birthday.”

“And next year will be even better,” Rowan assures me, his arm around my waist, Roman holding my hand as Hunter leads the way. “Our family will be complete by then.”

My heart leaps at his words, my stomach quivering at the idea. The baby will be here by then, and I have to believe so will Nik, with Sergi gone and no longer posing a threat. I glance up at the sky, at the few stars that are twinkling.

Please, I beg them. Please keep us all safe and sound, and in twelve months time, all together at last.

Then I recall the image of Nik being swallowed by the dark night, and goosebumps erupt across my skin.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“CEILINGS” BY LIZZY MCALPINE

IRIS

The next couple of weeks fly by in a peace that soothes my soul. The guys take me out of the estate more, and my confidence rises with each outing. It’s almost like before I was sold, almost normal.

My bump grows bigger, and turns out one of the twins’ cousin’s is a midwife, Mae. She was helping Lilly, but now that Lilly’s back in Colorado with her Knights, she’s become my midwife. She comes to do checkups on me and organises a private scan to ensure that Sergi doesn’t get wind of my pregnancy. Because I know without a shadow of a doubt that if he were to find out, he’d take me again, The Fallen be damned.

All the guys come with me, and when I hear the heartbeat and see my baby on the screen, I burst into tears. Even Hunt’s eyes well up, his hand gripping mine tightly as he stares at the screen in wonder. Seeing our child further confirms I made the right decision in keeping it. Bringing this baby into our lives will complete us in a way that we never anticipated, and shows that out of agony, something wonderful can emerge.

After that, the guys double their efforts in building the nursery, just off the bedroom like I requested. They also have to get back to business running the Shadows, but I have at least one of them with me at all times.

One night, we’re all sitting around in the living room, watching a Disney film because I’ve been missing my teenage years with Ember, who has visited several times with her stepbrothers. They’ve become good friends to us, and Ember has painted several gorgeous watercolour paintings for the nursery for when it’s finished. Her stepbrothers have been helping the guys with the more legal side of the Shadows, Hunt refusing to let them help with the business that could land them in trouble.

Both of the twins’ phones go off, making me jump from my place sprawled across Hunt’s lap, my feet in Roman’s. I watch as Roman looks at the screen, frowns, and then his eyes go wide as he raises his head to look first at me, then Hunt.

“What’s happened now?” Hunt grits out, and my heart pounds, my thoughts racing.

“It’s Lilly,” Roman answers, his hand going to the back of his neck and rubbing it as he lets out a long exhale.

“What happened? Are Lilly and the baby okay?” I rush out, sitting up and swinging my legs to the floor.

“They’re fine, well…” he trails off, throwing his phone onto the coffee table and rubbing both hands over his face, then turning to face me. “Julian sent someone to kill her, but luckily it was Ryan, her mum’s old boyfriend.”

“What?” I gasp, my hand coming over to cover my bump as my heart pounds. Hunt doesn’t let me get far, dragging me back against him, pulling me tight like he needs to protect me with his very arms.

“It’s fucked,” Rowan hisses, his eyes wide and jaw clenched. “He really needs to be taken out.”

“Yeah, the Knights are on it. It’s complicated.” Roman sighs, and I know he’s seeing the similarities between their situation and ours. “But for now, they’re sending Lilly away and have made out that she died, to get the heat off her. They want us and Mae to go and be with her, protect her and make sure she’s okay while they sort Julian and their families out.”

“Fuck,” Hunt curses, the muscles in his neck tight. He glances at me, but I’m shaking my head before he can even protest.

“They have to go, she’s in danger, Hunt. Her baby…” I swallow past the lump in my throat, my hand rubbing my bump once more. His eyes dip down, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenches.

“Fine, but only because you’ll never forgive me if I say no,” he grits out, then turns to Roman. “What’s the plan?”

“Ash has scheduled a private jet, untraceable, for us and Mae, leaving as soon as we get to the airfield,” Roman tells us, getting up, but I glance over to find Rowan staring at me, his brows deeply furrowed, and my chest squeezes at the look of worry that is all over his face.

“I’ll be okay, Lilly needs you more right now,” I tell him, tapping Hunt’s arms so he lets me go. I get up and lower myself in Roo’s lap, and his arms come up around me immediately, pulling me closer.

“I fucking hate being away from you again so soon,” he murmurs, and a lump forms in my throat because I feel exactly the same way.

“I know, Roo, but you’ll be back before too long, right?” I look at Roman, who gives a nod.

“Yeah, their plan comes to a head in three weeks’ time, and then we can come home,” Roman informs me, and I glance back at his twin.

“See, hardly any time at all,” I assure him, though my hand trembles as it cups his face. I hate parting with them again, my gut telling me we all need to stay together, but with what Lilly’s facing, she needs help, and I’m just grateful she has my guys on her side as well as hers. That kind of support is something to treasure. “Let me help you pack.”

I get up, holding out my hand, which he takes, and we head towards the bedroom, Hunt’s voice filtering towards us as he calls Mae. We grab a couple of duffle bags, stuffing in clothes and weapons—the beauty of private travel… I guess no one will be checking bags.

Soon they’re ready to go, and there’s a knock at the door as we walk back into the main living room.

“Hey, Iris,” Mae says, breezing in and pulling me into a hug. “You girls really know how to keep me on my toes, huh?”

I laugh, hugging her back tightly and then releasing her. “Maybe it’s just your specialty,” I tease, and she barks a laugh.

“Yeah, midwife to badass bitches,” she says with a wink, stepping away and heading back towards the door. “I’ll meet you guys in the car.”

My mouth goes dry when I see Roman and Rowan, ready to go, all of my assurances moments ago fleeing at the reality of losing them again. “Take care of yourselves as well as Lilly.” My voice trembles and then I’m in Roman’s arms, his calming scent washing over me as he wraps me in one of his huge hugs.

“I fucking love you, Princess,” he tells me fiercely, pulling back just enough to slam his lips onto mine, his tongue demanding immediate entry. I open to him, my hands clasping him to me as my heart thrashes inside my chest.

“I love you too,” I gasp when he pulls away, his eyes tracing my face. “See you soon, okay?”

“Keep Daddy’s cock hard for me,” he replies, and I chuckle, though it’s a little choked sounding.

“Yes, sir,” I answer, and heat makes the brown in his eyes darken.

“I like that, let’s use it when I’m back.” He gives me a quick peck, then heads over to Hunt as Rowan takes his place in front of me.

“Stay safe. Don’t go out alone. Do you have your knife?” he asks, his hands cupping my face and eyes boring into mine with a focus that leaves me nodding my head immediately just so I please him. “Good, Little Lamb.”

Then he lowers his lips to mine with so much more control than his brother. It’s a tease he often subjects me too, making me wait, making me desperate for him, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. His lips caress mine gently, once, twice, then he finally presses them against mine in a kiss that leaves me panting and clutching him, my body begging for more.

“I love you, Roo,” I whisper against his mouth when he breaks it.

“I love you, Lamb,” he replies, brushing his lips against mine a final time before he too steps back and follows Roman, who’s by the door.

“Stay safe and we’ll see you soon,” Hunt states, reaching out to grab me and tug me to his side. His warmth envelops me, making the parting of the twins that little bit easier to bear.

“Yes, Daddy,” Roman can’t help but tease, and then they’re gone, the door shutting behind them.

“He’s such a fucking brat,” Hunt huffs, though his lips twitch in a smile.

“But you love it, Daddy,” I tell him, snuggling closer to his side, soaking up his body heat to try and ease the sudden coldness at having two of my men, my soulmates, gone from my side.

“Want to finish the film?” Hunt asks, looking down at me, his green eyes soft and full of love. I love him that much more for offering to watch Disney with me.

“Maybe a bath?” I suggest, suddenly needing to feel him all around me, pressed up against me.

“Sounds perfect, Peaches,” Hunt replies, kissing my head and then taking my hand in his, somehow knowing that I need to keep him close. Maybe he needs to keep me close too. After all, they are his family as well.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“LIKE I’M GONNA LOSE YOU” BY JASMINE THOMPSON

IRIS

Icount down the days as each week passes, marking them in a journal that Hunt got me after I fell in love with it online. Julia said that writing down my thoughts may help going forward, so I use it for that, and my countdown.

One morning, as we’re sitting down to breakfast, Hunt’s phone starts buzzing, and I squeal when I see Roman’s name flashing on the screen. Not even giving Hunter a chance, I grab his phone off the counter and answer the call, putting him on speaker.

“Roman!” I all but shriek, and his deep chuckle flows over me, soothing me and calming my soul.

“Hey, Princess. I love that you’re so excited to speak to me, even though we only talked yesterday,” he replies, and Hunt’s warmth at my back is quickly followed by his arms around me.

“Do I need to be offended that you’re so excited to hear from him? Am I that boring?” he whispers in my ear, but loud enough for Roman to hear.

“Aww, don’t be salty, Daddy, just because I’m her favourite,” Roman teases, and Hunt growls, which does unspeakable things to my knickers.

“No one needs to be offended and no one is my favourite,” I tell them and frown as I look at the clock. “Why are you calling so early? It must be what, like, four AM there? Is everything okay?”

Roman sighs. “Lilly had her baby early, and then Loki got himself shot, so we’re just about to drive to the hospital because she’s stubborn as fuck and won’t rest even though Mae told her travelling such a long distance hours after giving birth isn’t the best idea,” Roman says, and my mouth opens with the influx of information. Shit. That is a lot to have happened in a short space of time.

“Okay, fuck. Do you know if Loki is okay?” Hunt asks, his arms tightening around me. I lean into his grip, taking comfort from it. The lives we lead, the shit that we have going on, it could easily be one of my guys with a bullet in them, or worse.

“We don’t know yet, but I’ve got Ash on speed dial and will be calling him regularly to get updates for Lilly.” The sounds of a car door or boot slamming in the background has me swallowing. “Silver lining is the Knights have dealt with their shit, so we should be home hopefully within the next couple of days.”

“That’s great,” I say, but the enthusiasm that I felt at first hearing his voice is missing. I just can’t get the worry out of my head that we are all living on the edge.

“We’ll be okay, Princess. We’re all okay,” Roman says, and tears prick my eyes at the thought that even so far away, he knows why I wasn’t as happy by the news as I should be.

“We haven’t heard from Nik in a while,” I murmur, and Hunt stiffens behind me.

“He’s a big boy, Peaches. He can take care of himself,” he assures me, curling his body over mine and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I sigh. “I know. I just want you all here and for this all to be over. Can’t we just live our lives without having to worry about someone dying or getting hurt or kidnapped for one damn minute?!” I’m almost shouting by the end, tears tracking a burning path down my cheeks as my chest heaves.

I’m just so fucking tired of all this bullshit and the constant worry. Of not knowing if Nik or the twins are safe.

Hunt spins my stool around, cupping my wet cheeks in his palms and forcing my gaze up to his. “Peaches, we will live that life, I fucking swear it to you, okay?”

A shuddering breath falls from my lips as more tears escape my eyes.

“But what life will our baby be born into?” My eyes plead with his, begging him to tell me that this will all be sorted by the time this little bundle comes along, but we both know that is highly unlikely given that Sergi needs to be dead and I’m already close to six months pregnant. Four months is not long enough to eradicate him from this earth.

“We’ll be home soon, Princess, and I swear to you that our baby will not be in danger,” Roman says over the speaker, and I twist to look at the phone, Hunt’s hands still on my cheeks, rubbing the tears away as fast as they fall. “I have to go. Rowan sends his love and I’ll call as soon as we’re at the hospital and know more. I love you. Both of you.”

The call ends before I can say it back, and that just makes me cry harder, Hunt wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, his rosemary and mint scent washing over me but unable to stop the flow of despair that has me in its grip.

I so desperately want to believe in the promise that Hunter made and the vow Roman gave, but something inside me refuses to settle, to believe that Sergi will leave us alone. That we will win.

The sound of the door crashing open wakes both Hunt and I with a start, my heart pounding as Rowan’s panicked voice shouts into the darkness. Hunt lowers the gun in his grip just as our bedroom door is thrown open, bouncing off the wall. Rowan is there, his eyes wild in the low light of the room, his chest heaving.

“Is he here? Is Roman here?” He gasps, looking around the room, and a pit opens in my stomach. They were coming home today, but Rowan is the first we’ve seen.

Before either Hunt or myself can answer, his phone buzzes on the nightstand with an incoming FaceTime call. I don’t recognise the number, but ice slithers down my spin.

Hunt’s hand is steady as he answers it, but bile hits the back of my throat at the face on the split screen. One side is dark, the other has Sergi, smirking like he’s just won the races.

“I believe you’ve lost something,” he says, an evil grin on his face and his accent causing a sour taste in my mouth, chills making my entire body tremble as Rowan comes to stand next to Hunt, and I scoot closer.

The black side of the screen lightens to show Roman tied to a chair, beaten and bloody, and my heart stutters inside my chest, my breathing halting altogether.

“No…” I whisper, my fingers going numb as I reach for the phone. My hand shakes, bile filling my throat at the injuries that cover Roman’s almost naked body. Hunt lets me take the device, and I hold it so we can all see the scene before us.

“If you touch another fucking hair on my brother’s head I will decimate you!” Rowan screams, and I flinch at the roar, at the terror that underlies his words.

Manic laughter is the only response as a figure steps into view of the side of the screen that Roman is in. They must be in two different places, Sergi and Roman, so we may have a chance. A pained moan leaves me though when chocolate eyes lock with mine over the screen, blank and devoid of all emotion.

“Nik?” I whisper, my voice thick as I blink, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing, because surely Nik can’t be the one holding Roman, having hurt him? I flinch when Nik’s hand darts out and lands a sharp slap across Roman’s cheek to wake him up. Vicious growls sound from Hunt and Rowan, but I can’t take my eyes off the place where Nik just struck Roman. This must be some kind of nightmare, and I beg every god under the sun to wake the fuck up.

“Iris…” Roman croaks, his eyes blinking and unfocused but zeroing on mine. He blinks once more, then glances at Nik, his eyes widening and looking back at the camera.

“I’m here, Ro. We’re all here.” My voice cracks and tears drip down my face, his image wavering as I realise this is no dream.

“Hey, don’t cry, my love. It’ll be okay.” His words only make the tears flow faster, even when strong arms wrap round me and pull me into a tight embrace. I’m shaking, my heart pounding too fast and my stomach turning as I try to work out how we can win this round. Nik is on our side, he must have some kind of plan to save Roman.

“What do you want, Sergi?” Hunter bites out behind me, his arms trembling with fury as he pulls me close. I can feel his heart beating furiously against my back, and I know that there’s panic mixed in with his anger too. This is his worst nightmare come true.

Another laugh sounds, and it’s the sound of death wrapping his hand round your heart and squeezing.

“It’s too late for that, boy,” Sergi sneers, and my gaze flits to his for a moment. There is nothing forgiving in his eyes, just cold evil that delights in others’ misery.

Movement in the other half of the phone has my eyes snapping back to Nik and Roman just as Nik lifts something black and presses the muzzle against Roman’s head.

“No!” I shout, my heart beating so fast I’m afraid it’ll burst from my chest. “Please, Nik. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Sergi’s cruel laugh slithers up my skin, but I refuse to look away from Roman, something inside me telling me if I do, I lose him for sure. “My son takes his orders from me, not a whore like you.” Hunt and Rowan snarl, but I flit my gaze back to Sergi, throwing everything I have into my final plea.

“Sergi, please, take me instead. I’ll come back. I’ll do anything, please.” My hand lands on my rounded stomach, but I can’t bring myself to use my unborn child as a bargaining chip. He’ll discover my condition soon enough if he takes me up on my offer.

The arms around me tighten.

“No, you won’t,” Roman hisses, his body vibrating with fury and probably pain given the extent of his beating. “Don’t you bend to this piece of shit, Iris. I told you, if it means keeping you safe, I’ll fucking meet my maker with a smile on my face.”

Tears flow down my cheeks faster, and I blink them away, desperately trying to see all of him. Dreading that this is the last time. That he’ll never hold me again. Never tease me or make love to me. Never get to meet our child. I can hardly breathe with the lump that is in my throat.

“Alas, it’s too late for that too, Kukolka,” Sergi tells me on a sigh, like I’m a wayward child that needs to be taught a lesson. He nods and Nik clicks the safety off, my body jumping in Hunter’s arms, the phone jerking. My gaze fixes on Roman, and I watch as his shoulders slump, a long exhale leaving his bruised and swollen lips.

“Please?” I ask, willing to do anything to stop this from happening but unable to tear my gaze away from one of the men I love, who is part of my soul and fundamental to my being. “Please don’t do this.”

“I love you, Iris,” Roman tells me softly, looking into my eyes, his own full of his devotion to me. Then they briefly flick to Hunt behind me, and a hint of sadness enters his gaze. “And you, Daddy.”

Before I can say the words back, before Hunt can answer, a loud bang sounds over the speakers and my whole world shatters.

To be continued…

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

*runs and hides…

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wouldn’t be here, writing all the extra bits without the help of many simply wonderful people.

My wonderful editor Polly who literally gives me life with her comments! She makes these books shine and I honestly would be lost without her.

My incredible proofreader Kat who always makes me smile with her comments and adds the final polish.

I’d also be totally lost without my incredible team of assistants who help keep the Rosaverse running and allow me to focus on my books and writing them all.

And my lovely Rosebuds and Darlings, my Arc readers and Street Team. You guys don’t know how much you do, giving me awesome reviews and recommending my books. I love you all!

To my wonderful Patreon supporters A, Alesha, Ally, Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, Amy, Ana, Anna, Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, Audra, Beejay, Breanna, Brenda, Briana, Brittany, C1986, Candice, Candy, Carl, Cayla, Chantel, Cheri, Chloe, Courtney, Courtney, Danny, Danielle, Darby, Debbie, Desire, Devon, Djpfister, efcmax, Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elsa, Eli, Emma, Englefluffy, Felicia, Gabriella, Gemma, Heather, Isabelle, Izzy, Jade, Jennifer, Jessica, Jessica, Jnayia, Julia, Kati, Kelly, Ketevan, Kim, Kim, kirareads_, KMP, koi, Krista, Krista, Kristen, Lauren, Lauren, Leilani, Leslie, Lisa, Lisa, Liz, Lizz, Lou, Lourdes, Lucy, Madelyn, Maisie, Mandy, Mary, Meg, Megan, Megan, Mel, Melanie, Mercedes, Mia, Mila, Micaela, Michele, Mikalya, Mina, Naomi, Natalie, Nicholetta88, Nicola, Nicole, Nicole, Nicole, Olivia, Phantom, PocketGab, Pyro, rai, RanellJBell, RML, Rosie, Sam, Samantha, Samantha, Samantha, Sami, Sammy, Sarah, Sierra, Sonya, Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie, Sunny, Sandi, Sun, tia, Tiffany, Tiffany, Tina, Tracy, Tristan, Vikki, Waya, Wendy.

You are wonderful supporters and cheerleaders. Reading your comments on my posts is awesome and I adore sharing my work with you guys. I can’t wait for more shenanigans with you guys and thank you so much for being part of my tribe!

And of course, my amazing husband who supports me in all that I do, and enjoys the benefits of being married to a steamy romance author (you all know what I’m talking about!). I genuinely wouldn’t be where I am today, as a person, craftsperson or author without him.

ABOUT ROSA LEE

Rosa Lee lives in a sleepy Wiltshire village, surrounded by the beautiful English countryside and the sound of British Army tanks firing in the background (it’s worth the noise for the uniformed dads in the local supermarket and doing the school run!).

Rosa loves writing dark and delicious whychoose romance, and has so many ideas trying to burst out that she can often be found making a note of them as soon as one of her three womb monsters wakes her up. She believes in silver linings and fairytale endings...you know, where the villains claim the Princess for their own, tying her up and destroying the world for her.

If you’d like to know more, please check out Rosa’s socials or visit

www.rosaleeauthor.com

Rosa’s Captivating Roses

Linktree

ALSO BY ROSA LEE

HIGHGATE PREPARATORY ACADEMY

A dark whychoose romance

Hunted: A Highgate Preparatory Academy Prequel

Captured: Highgate Preparatory Academy, Book 1

Bound: Highgate Preparatory Academy, Book 2

Released: Highgate Preparatory Academy, Book 3

DEAD SOLDIERS VS TAILORS DUET

A dark whychoose enemies to lovers romance

Addicted to the Pain

Addicted to the Ruin

THE SHADOWMEN

A dark gang & mafia whychoose romance

Kissed by Shadows

Claimed by Shadows

Owned by Shadows

STANDALONES

A dark whychoose Lady and the Tramp(s) retelling

Tainted Saints

A dark whychoose stepbrother Cinderella retelling

Tarnished Embers

A dark whychoose mafia romance Co-written with Mallory Fox

A Night of Revelry and Envy