Page 143 of Nash

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

NASH

All awaitthe second part of Vale’s initiation when she accepts her second king.

Arousal fills the room, its musk distinct. The anticipation is thick and tense because I’m the only brother who’s ever resisted this.

Axel was eager to initiate our first queen. Too eager, we’ve since learned. Grant charged like a bull with Delphine. Nick was proud of his love for Zar. And Sire? Sire turned Wren’s initiation into a dark, holy ceremony.

Fuck, I think I meant that pun.

But me?

I wrap Vale in my arms, protecting her. Our breath and bodies recover as we lie intertwined on the platform while the others take another round of shots.

Dresses have been discarded. Pants and suits, too. All are nude, their bodies either erect or aroused, except for Jace, Axel, and his mystery woman. How she’s knelt silently for this long, I don’t know.

But still, it’s Jace, dressed in his suit and sitting uncharacteristically quiet, who traps my attention until the coded knock raps at the door.

Shit. No.

Sire smirks, rising to unlock it. When it swings open, a large, masculine figure enters, shrouded in all black and a black balaclava. Even Seven’s dark sunglasses disguise his distinct eyes.

Axel was right;you can’t tell who he is.

Axel was a dumbass;his sudden appearance shocks Vale.

I feel her tense in my arms, almost wincing as Seven’s heavy steps aim first for the altar. He lights a candle. Even his hands are covered by black leather gloves.

“Is that…?” Vale whispers.

“Seven.” I want to spit bullets.

“Why is he…?” she presses.

“He’s like Nick. He’s too public to be seen, even coming here.”

I try to keep our voices down while the others share greetings. Like it’s not awkward as fuck greeting their youngest brother, who’s dressed like a street-styled ninja.

“But Nick shows his face to me. He can trust me. Why can’t Seven?”

Of course, Vale asks the obvious questions.

Of course, I want to throat-punch Axel for thinking this was a good idea. But that man and his rituals…

Though Sire was destined for the Russian Orthodox clergy at one time, it’s Axel who might as well be the Patriarch of Moscow. He’s so committed to traditions, he ignores logic.

All kings are supposed to be present for a queen’s initiation. It’s an honor to watch. The intimacy binds us.

Alena is the only exception Axel has allowed. Not like the brothers wouldn’t rebel if he insisted otherwise, but we agreed. Her throne will always be empty. Her feet will never enter this room.

Alena will never be initiated, though deep down, rage plucks at my nerves, knowing Axel has such a compulsion for it. And deep down, way past six feet, is where I’ll bury him if he ever does it.

Silently, Seven approaches us.

From where Vale and I lie like naked lovers, he looms large, reaching into his front pocket. Vale grabs my chest, watching Seven pull out a purple velvet drawstring bag, silently signaling Vale to approach him.

Cautiously, she leaves my arms, crawling closer to the platform’s edge as Seven kneels before her. From the bag, he presents her with a gold bracelet: seven gold lions, each with tiny jeweled eyes.

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