Page 41 of Lady of Darkness
To my surprise, Diana kneels down in front of me and takes my hands. “There’s a reason you came to me. A reason you sought me out, and came all the way to Amsterdam to learn under me. You’re not my normal client, Sterling, but one day, you will be just as renowned as me. You just have to believe in yourself. Practice. Find a good sub who will let you.”
I nod. I still haven’t told her that I’m having second thoughts.
When I came to her last year, I thought I was a sub–I thought I wanted to be dominated. So, I sought out the most elite dominatrix Europe had to offer.
It became clear very quickly that I was no natural submissive.
Diana noticed, too, and she was nice enough to offer to train me. Being a switch, she can easily flit between dominant and submissive. Me… not so much.
Being defied–being told what to do–drove me mad.
Still, I wanted to be the best. I wanted tolearnfrom the best. So we continued to see each other every month. I continued to endure the humiliation, the shame, the submissiveness that never, ever came easily.
In between sessions, I practiced. Mostly in the BDSM clubs in London. Sometimes I’d pick up women at bars, or on a job. The power I held was an aphrodisiac for most people, men included.
I hadn’t exactly exploredthatpart of my sexuality yet, but I did know that I liked fucking men just as much as women.
I say goodbye to Diana and walk through the red-light district smoking a cigarette. I should quit, but smoking in Europe feels so natural. The streets were meant to be wandered with a cigarette braced between two fingers.
My phone vibrates, and I glance at the name on the screen.
“Hey,” I say, stubbing my cigarette out as I look out across one of the many canals.
“We have a… situation,” Alaric drawls on the other end.
I sigh. Every time I come to Amsterdam, I’m called away early for my job. As a Lord of Darkness, our jobs don’t stop. We never take holidays or sick days. I’m burnt the fuck out.
“I’ll fly home tonight.” I try to keep the contempt out of my voice.
“Yeah. Get here quickly. Charles says it’s urgent.”
It’s always fucking urgent.
“Got it,” I tell him.
“Have a nice time?” he asks, his voice sounding amused.
“Learning a lot.”
“That’s good.”
The guys know about my proclivities. They’ve been in the same room while I’ve shagged women (and men). They understand my need to dominate, so they don’t judge me, and they don’t ask questions. I spend most of my free time at the alt clubs in London, and they’re fine with it.
“See you at Wolf Manor in a couple of hours,” Alaric adds. “Tell Diana we say hello.”
He hangs up, and I pocket my phone. Running my hand through my hair, I lean against the bridge for a minute.
Being twenty-two and a part of the world’s most dangerous crime syndicate is exhausting. I feel thirty. Forty, some days. The responsibility of the world rests on my shoulders. The others don’t seem to feel as bitter as I do. They’ve taken to Charles like he’s their goddamn father figure, but he and I haven’t gotten as close.
Alaric, Gideon, and Theo don’t seem to resent this life as much as I do. Most days I hate it, but there’s nothing I can do to change it. When my father died in the gas leak, I was orphaned, then shucked into this life without even being asked.
We all were.
And I hated everything and everyone because of it.
Two giggling Dutch girls pass me. I clear my throat as they turn to smile at me. Curving a finger, I beckon them over, and they giggle some more before they decide to come talk to me.
Diana says I need to practice my dominance? I can do that.
