Page 1 of Carnal Heart
Prologue
Devyn Shio
Some people believe traditions possess a certain type of magic. They have this ability to bring people together. As individuals and as a culture, they shape us. Take this planet, Usurn, for example. Unlike certain planets in the Seastea galaxy, Usurn values and preserves ancestral traditions and rituals.
Fuck traditions. For all I care, traditions can all burn in a raging fire somewhere until there’s nothing left but ember and ash.
A sharp slap stings my cheeks, its echo ringing in my ears as my gaze meets my father’s. Dark crimson pupils stare back, not an ounce of fear in them. Demon eyes that mirror my own. A Shio family trait that has been passed down through generations.
His nostrils flare when I don’t react. “Are you even paying attention to me?”
Conor Shio is a man who lives by traditions; our bloodline as a founding family demands it. If you ask me, all the power and wealth has gone to his head.Pathetic.
After a moment of silence, I flex my jaw. “Yes, father,” I reply, keeping my tone calm and measured, unlike his own. It’s what he taught me, after all. Never show weakness, especially to cowards.
I prop a hip against my dresser and wait to see what else he’s going to do.
My father walks over to my desk, picks up the obsidian heart-shaped pin, and pockets it before making his way back to me. Every Black Hart is required to wear the black pin with a glowing light in the middle. Meanwhile, the rest of the people on campus wear red hearts that shine just a little brighter.
As he adjusts my dark red blazer, my father’s hands reach out steadily. This time, he makes slow, even movements. First, by unnecessarily popping my collar, then folding it back with purpose. It’s all a show. A move to rile me up. To get up in my personal space and intimidate me.
News flash, father. I’ve been playing your games since I was seven. I know how your predictable little brain works.
If it weren’t for the threat he poses to both my mother and sister or the fact he has all their money tied up in illegal accounts, I would have killed him years ago after the night he tied me to a chair and beat me just to prove that Shios learn how to tolerate pain.
“Don’t forget, just because tonight is Cor Night and the rest of Sacrum Cor University will be attending this party to celebrate love and friendship doesn’t mean you need to go all soft as well. You’re a Black Hart, and this year you need to act like one. It’s tradition for you to participate in Praeda.”
I grit my teeth. Praeda is just a fucked-up rite of passage the previous Black Harts and founding fathers created to get theirdicks wet without any consequences. As Black Harts, we’re free to select anyone at the party as our prey, and ultimately, we can force them to comply with our wishes. It’s all about the hunt. Choosing one person amongst thousands and stalking them throughout the night. That animalistic, fucked-up side of me loves the idea, but I refuse to do it on my father’s terms.
“Your refusal to participate in last year’s hunt was an embarrassment to our family name. You made a fool of me,” he continues, violently tugging my gray shirt and smoothing out some imaginary wrinkle. He pulls the obsidian heart out of his pocket and pins it to my blazer.
I don’t bother pointing out that Illya didn’t participate in Praeda last year either. But of course, Illya Carmine can do no wrong in my father’s eyes; none of the other Black Harts can.
“Devyn, I expect you to follow traditions and respect our family name. Since you can’t seem to find one single person amongst the hordes of people who worship the ground you walk on, I made things easy for you.”
My stomach flips with nausea. “What are you talking about?” I snap.
“I went ahead and selected your Praeda for you.” He holds up a folded piece of paper before tucking it into the front pocket of my black silk pants. “Marco Lombardi. I’m planning on doing business with his family this month. His son is a fan of yours, and he can use that extra little social boost he’ll get by being your chosen Praeda.”
Father pats my chest and takes a step back. There’s a small smile on his face, as if the conversation is done, and he’s proud that I’ll be a good little pet and listen. He begins to turn away.
Lombardi.The name sounds familiar, but I’m too pissed to think about that now.
“And what if I don’t?” I ask, unable to help my curiosity.
Father spins back around, that smile no longer in place. “What if you don’t what?” He says, slowly.
“If I don’t choose the Lombardi kid as my Praeda?”
“For fuck’s sake, Devyn,” he hisses. “You’re twenty-one years old. A fucking adult in the eyes of Usurn. If you don’t select the prey I’ve chosen for you, then you better pick someone of value. I don’t need you embarrassing me two years in a row.”
I shove my balled-up fist into my pants pocket as I tremble with rage. “Ah. Yes, because it isn’t embarrassing to take someone against their will and force them to do your bidding.”
Father rolls his eyes. “Good Light, it’s not like everyone on campus won’t be willing to bend over for you at the drop of a hat. You can pick someone else any time of the year. Tonight, you’ll pick the Lombardi kid. I don’t care what you do with him. If you don’t know who he is, check your multi-slate. I sent you a photo along with a link to his tracking device.”
My father spins on his heel. Just as he reaches the door, he looks at me from over his shoulder. “Your mother and sister say hi, by the way.” He smirks, and, with that, storms out of my bedroom.
Bastard.
