Page 85 of Lady of Darkness
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Alaric
I finishmy whiskey and set it down next to the sink. The summer weather has been fluctuating between hot and cold, and when I look out of my window into the large field beyond Cross Manor, I can make out the mist covering the green grass. I walk into my office and open my laptop, making sure Cecelia’s new deed is all settled. When she told me this morning that she wanted to find her own place, I offered to buy it for her. Outside of her family, she doesn’t have any money, and she would need a safe, secure home for her and Archie.
I didn’t trust George Crawford, her father.
She found the place last week, and we’d been secretly working on the offer for the owners. I offered cash for a quick sale, and the deed should transfer to her name tomorrow. It’s a five-bedroom cottage on the other side of Blackwell, near the barn. I looked for a place that was close and central, seeing as she wants Archie to get to know Harlow. I think it’s too small, but she seems to love it.
I pull up the next surprise, flicking through the pictures of the warehouse space. It’s in a neighboring village, which I don’t love, but… it’s perfect for Harlow’s studio. It’s an old, abandoned factory from the 1700s. Originally a wool mill, it’s been abandoned for 150 years. Seeing as it also comes with one hundred and fifty acres of land, it’s not cheap. I figured Harlow could use it for her runs, since she’s taken to them quite well. I’ve already been in contact with a landscaper to flush the trails out for her. I’m also meeting with a contractor next week to discuss refurbishing the factory into a large studio with plenty of space for her to work.
Sighing, I close my laptop and pinch the bridge of my nose.
It’s been a fucking crazy whirlwind since the night we killed Charles and found out about Harlow. The emotions running through me–the fury, the kindling of lust, the worry, the contempt, the love… it’s like she came into our order and turned everything upside down. I smile when I think of tonight. When I think of how hot and bothered she got watching me with Theo. How hotIgot being with Theo. I’d never explored that part of me sexually. I’d participated in orgies before, but nothing like this.
It’s like she came in, dropped a match, and lit everything on fire with her presence.
As I walk upstairs, I begin to unfasten my tie, slipping it off and hanging it neatly over the back of my desk chair. I place my jacket in the bag meant for dry cleaning, and then I undress fully, hopping into my large stone shower for a quick wash. The entire time, I think of Harlow–and the guys. I’ve never thought about them like that before, but suddenly, it makes perfect sense.
Closer than brothers.
Closing my eyes, I place an arm on the wall. The other begins to stroke my shaft slowly. I think back to how it felt being inside of Harlow at the same time as Gideon. How exquisite and cataclysmic it was. To be close to someone in spirit, and then move into the physical realm like that…
I fist my cock harder, using soap to lube it up as I throw my head back.
I should be spent. Two orgasms in a row. Instead, my need gnaws at the base of my spine as if I haven’t come in days.
That’s what she does to me–to us.
I come quick and fast, pelting the stone wall with jets of hot come. I watch as it washes down the drain, panting as my chest heaves up and down.
She burned our entire order to the ground slowly. Not with poison, like she intended, but with something deeper. Something fundamentally vivid and powerful. She ripped us open day by day until we became the kind of men who had to nut twice a day. The kind of men who would murder hundreds of people to get her back. Thousands of people, if we needed to.Millions.I’d never been in love, but our little monster had burrowed so far into my heart that I couldn’t breathe when I thought of losing her again.
We wanted so badly to break her, butshebrokeus.
I would make sure I spent the rest of my life proving our worth to her.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
Harlow
Ten Weeks Later
I hangup my FaceTime call with Gemma as I walk down the stairs of Blackwell House. Looking around, I smile. Rose and Teddy have been helping me renovate. I’ve kept most of my dad’s things, but I’ve also gifted a lot of it to Cecelia for her new house. Then there’s the more valuable or sentimental family heirlooms, which I’ve set aside in storage for now, replacing them with things I brought in from local vendors in New York–modern furniture, abstract art… things that bring a little bit of Brooklyn into this old, stuffy manor. I’ve even taken over one wall in the living room and painted a mural. Four skeletons with crowns, kneeling before a skeleton with long, curly hair–and a crown.
I smile when I pass it.
The guysloveit, because of course they do.
I made it for them.
Gemma is settling in well at NYU. It’s nearly Halloween, and she’s making new friends every day. Cecelia and Archie come over three days a week so I can hang out with Archie while Cecelia goes to Pilates. She’s all moved into her new house across town, and it’s picturesque and quaint as fuck. It even has a thatched roof.
“I’m not sure about this,” Rose says slowly, looking at the sculpture I had brought in from one of my favorite artists in New York.
It’s two bodies entwined, and they’re very clearly engaged in some graphic sex.
I smirk. “It’s art,” I counter. “You don’t have to be sure about it.”
