Happily Ever Crowned Read online

“As you should be.” Necros laughed out loud and dragged me quickly down the corridor, away from Lucifer’s oddly safe presence.

  Soon, my child, his voice whispered over my mind.

  I glanced back to see his serene expression, wondering if I’d truly heard him at all.

  And then the hallway wall cut off my view of the ceremonial room.

  A crowd followed with cheers and shouts of celebration, all of them males I recognized from society. Necros’s closest friends.

  “Fuck her good, Our King,” one called, causing me to flinch.

  “Show her what a queen needs to do to please her husband,” another shouted, causing my cheeks to overheat.

  Necros pulled me into his bedroom without preamble and pushed me flat over his bed, pressing my head and jeweled corset into the luxury mattress. Steps followed, indicating the crowd gathering in the room behind us. Tradition required everyone to witness this moment.

  All one hundred plus attendees.

  My new husband stood sentry at my back, running his palm up and down my spine, waiting for all to enter.

  I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and took comfort in the blankets hiding my face.

  Still, I could feel the onlookers’ gazes prickling my body, stroking me with an intimacy meant only for my husband. And Necros hadn’t even exposed me yet…

  “Mmm, my beautiful wife,” he murmured, continuing to stroke me as one would an animal, not an equal. Because that was what I was to him—a new pet. A toy. One to be used and fucked and to bear heirs. Nothing more.

  Murmurs of approval littered the air, urging him to get on with it.

  Were my parents among them? Here to witness my shame? Perhaps they should. It was they who subjected me to this life. They might as well see my fate.

  “You may proceed,” a deep voice—Lucifer—announced.

  His voice chilled me to my core. A memory slid through my thoughts, brief, a sense of déjà vu overwhelming me. I’ve heard those words before…

  Impossible. We’d never even met until today.

  Necros wasted no time, didn’t offer me any words of encouragement, just lifted my skirts up around my waist to display my nakedness to his gaze. Lingerie hadn’t been allowed. Only a dress and shoes, neither of which he bothered to remove.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “Such a pretty pussy.”

  They had shaved me bare, as the ritual required, leaving my most intimate area exposed not just to my husband but also to anyone close enough to see.

  I shivered, longing to disappear.

  The crown in my hair jolted as I attempted to bury my head further into the bed, seeming to remind me all the more of my purpose here.

  A queen meant only to serve.

  The loud roar of approval told me my husband had just removed his pants.

  Some part of me had hoped for some sweet words, some sort of promise that I would be okay. But it was a sad girl’s dream, not my reality.

  Pain unlike anything I anticipated followed, ripping me in two as Necros forced himself inside me for the first time.

  I bit down on the bedspread to keep from screaming, not wanting to show any weakness in front of my kingdom. Queens don’t let anyone see them cry.

  But it hurt too badly to stop the tears from gathering in my eyes. Just breathe, I coached myself, flinching as he thrust in again and again. His grip on my hips tightened, forcing me to accept him and not providing me an ounce of relief.

  “Damn, best pussy ever.” Lust deepened his voice to a tenor I never wanted to hear again but knew would become a nightly occurrence. We were wed now, all in duty to a kingdom I knew very little about.

  Why?

  Why me?

  Necros bucked his hips and withdrew before slamming back into me.

  Tears streamed down my face, wetting the blankets beneath me, but I refused to make a sound, refused to let him see the pain no doubt etched into my features.

  I wanted to hide away in my room and go back to the life I had before. One of a lonely existence dreading a future I couldn’t control. Anything would be better than this torture.

  A cry threatened to leave my mouth as Necros set a punishing pace with his motions.

  Nothing would ever be the same again. I felt it in every punch of his hips against mine, each heavy pant rending the air, the jeers surrounding the room, and the general lechery polluting the air.

  Some naïve part of me had hoped to earn respect from this union. A foolish girl’s notion. A wish.

  They’d never see me as a better, let alone an equal.

  I was merely the king’s fucktoy—a prize he’d won from the Graystall Kingdom.

  “So good,” he groaned, causing the crowd to roar in excitement.

  He leaned forward and yanked me back by my hair, revealing my face to everyone in the room, completing my humiliation.

  Lecherous gazes filled my vision. Some even appeared excited, as if the king might share. I etched each person into my memory. Memorized every smile and derogatory comment. Because one day I’d rise above this. What other choice did I have?

  A dream, perhaps.

  But in that moment, I considered it my life goal.

  Necros shoved into me one final time and vibrated with his pleasure. Thick ropes of his hot essence coated my insides, his goal of producing an heir evident. It wasn’t until his final groan—long and guttural—that he finally released my hair, allowing me to fall to the bed once more.

  He withdrew sharply, eliciting a shriek of pain I couldn’t swallow in time.

  Chuckles followed. All underscored in evil.

  I hate it here...

  “My bedded wife,” Necros announced. “Welcome your queen, people of Caluçon.” He punctuated the words with a slap against my still-exposed ass, eliciting congratulatory cheers around the room.

  I shivered from the exposure, my heart in my throat as I prayed to the deities above that this hell would soon end. Warm voices, glances that felt like strokes, and words were exchanged while I remained hidden. Until eventually the voices softened to nonexistence, leaving me.

  Still, I couldn’t move.

  My thighs ached.

  My insides screaming from the violation.

  This was my duty, my purpose, but did it have to hurt so very much?

  Happy fucking birthday, my conscious whispered cruelly. I supposed it was a fitting introduction to womanhood.

  More tears fell, my shoulders shaking from the onslaught of varying emotions. Anger at my parents and my people. Fear of my husband and my future with him. Agony at what I’d just endured.

  And an odd inkling of hope sparking from deep within, in that secret place I never told anyone else about.

  I stroked the power hiding there, longing for it to be released and not knowing how at the same time.

  One day, it seemed to promise. One day soon.

  Maybe it was just my imagination, a coping mechanism to accept such a fate.

  Or perhaps it was something so much more.

  I called upon that inner strength, begging it to heal my damaged heart and soul. But it remained softly whispering, cooing promises of a future I could only dream about.

  Soon, My Queen. Soon.

  I sipped the bourbon with a sigh, relaxing into my favorite chair. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

  Grigory snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk already.”

  “Hardly.” I took another calming swallow, luxuriating in the crisp flavor unavailable in the Underworld. “This is making me nostalgic.” I’d spent most of last year on Earth, mostly to cultivate my more deadly talents. But I’d taken a few moments to enjoy the pleasures of life up there, including indulging in the finer bourbons of the realm.

  “I thought it’d be a good farewell gift before you run off to commit suicide tomorrow,” he replied, his broad face lighting up with a grin. “I wanted to bring a few humans back with me, but my mother denied the request.”

  “Suicide,” I repeat
ed, ignoring that last bit. Grigory enjoyed mortal company. I preferred succubi. “When I reclaim my throne, remind me not to bring you onto my council.”

  The big man covered his heart. “What? But I thought you loved me, Adrik?”

  “Bring me more bourbon, and we’ll discuss it.”

  “Assuming you don’t die tomorrow.”

  I finished the contents of my drink and poured myself another. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re worried about me, G.”

  “You’re attending the infamous Caluçon Ball. Anyone with intelligence would be worried.” He scratched the scruff dotting his square jaw. “Actually, no. Intelligent demons wouldn’t attend in the first place.”

  My lips twitched. “Good thing I’m not a demon.” Not in the traditional sense, anyway. I commanded the shadows of the Underworld, the pissed-off spirits in limbo. It made me a welcome entity in this realm, but not necessarily demonic.

  He grunted. “Too right.” He picked up his wine glass and swirled the bloody contents before downing it all in one go. Almost as if to remind me that he, too, wasn’t a traditional demon. Not like Lucifer’s hellhounds and minions.

  I sighed, my head falling back against the padded cushion of my chair. “Necros isn’t a demon, either,” I pointed out, again thinking about my plan. “Just King of the Dead.” And archenemy to the Shadow Kingdom he’d destroyed many years ago.

  My kingdom.

  I ran my hand over my face and finished my second drink, not bothering to fill it again. The last thing I needed was to be hungover tomorrow.

  Caluçon would fall. I just had to play my cards right, which included indulging the king in his fucked-up games. He wanted to break his queen. Fine. I’d happily help in that endeavor. But unlike all the other contenders lined up for tomorrow night, I knew the score.

  Queen Valora possessed a valuable entity inside her, one I intended to steal for myself and use to destroy the King of the Dead.

  “Let me come with you,” Grigory said, not for the first time. “You know I’m the better fighter between us.”

  I laughed. “You beat me once and that makes you my better?”

  “Twice,” he corrected. “And fuck yes. Now bow.”

  “Fuck you.” The words lacked heat, as they always did. “And no, you’re staying here. The last thing I need is to piss off your mother.”

  “Ugh, that woman is such a buzzkill.” He stretched out on my couch, legs crossed at the ankles, his eyes falling closed.

  “I heard that,” a feminine voice said, entering without knocking.

  “I know,” he replied, not bothering to glance or formally acknowledge the approaching woman.

  Lux, Queen of the Noxia Kingdom.

  Otherwise known as Grigory’s mother.

  “Your Highness,” I greeted, nodding in respect. Most would be on the floor, bowing. But she and I had a different sort of relationship, one that had me viewing her more in a maternal manner rather than a royal one.

  She had, after all, raised me as her own.

  “You boys are always causing me problems,” she said, picking up the bottle of bourbon from the table. Rather than pour herself a glass, she stole a sip from the rim and shuddered. “Rubbish.”

  “Liquid gold,” I corrected.

  She scoffed at that. “I thought I raised you better than that, Adrik.” She cocked her head to the side in a chastising way while also grinning down at me. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “No,” Grigory cut in, still not looking at his mother. They both resembled night, with their dark hair and eyes, their skin as pale as the moon. Fitting for their vampire heritage, I supposed. As I possessed similar traits, it’d be easy for Lux to adopt me into the fold. However, I never called her Mother, nor did she ever ask me to.

  “You’re sending my brother off to his death,” Grigory added humorously.

  Jackass. “Your faith in me is heartwarming,” I deadpanned.

  “What?” He finally cracked an eye open. “You admitted yourself that I kicked your ass recently. Doesn’t leave a man all that warm and fuzzy about sending his best friend off to battle.”

  “You did not kick my ass.”

  “You bled out all over the mat,” he reminded me.

  “We need to work on your definition of blood, G.” Except, in this case, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

  “They had to replace the flooring,” he continued. “And you passed out.”

  “Because you sliced open my abdomen with a dirty blade, you prick.” And it had hurt like a motherfucker. Took two days to heal, too, even with my immortality.

  “You told me to give you my all.”

  “And you certainly did.”

  “And I kicked your ass,” he added.

  I shook my head. “After I handed you your ass the day before. And the day before that. Oh, and the day—”

  “If all you two are going to do is bicker all night, I’ll take my advice elsewhere,” Lux murmured, her expression one of amusement, not annoyance.

  “Are you going to advise him not to go to Caluçon tomorrow?” Grigory wondered aloud, knowing full well his words were useless.

  “It’s time, Grigory,” she returned, her voice hardening just the slightest bit.

  “Here we go,” he replied, covering his eyes with a muscular forearm. “The prophecy says,” he began in a high-pitched tone.

  I chuckled. “Don’t mind him. He’s just trying to figure out how to survive without me.”

  His responding grunt neither confirmed nor denied my comment, but we both knew the truth. We’d grown up together, had learned to fight alongside each other, and had spent most of our youth causing his mother all sorts of problems. But duty always hung over our heads.

  Grigory would be crowned King of Noxia in the next few years.

  And me, well, I had a crown to win back from a wicked king with a deadly streak.

  “You’re ready,” Lux informed me, her voice soft but sure. She pulled a box from some mysterious pocket in her wispy skirts and set it on the table beside my empty glass. “This is what I came to give you. It belonged to your father, and I think he’d consider you finally ready to wear it.”

  I sat up, intrigued. “And you’ve kept it this entire time?”

  She lifted one delicate shoulder. “He trusted me with your life and guidance. I’ve raised you accordingly.”

  “Much to my chagrin,” Grigory grumbled half-heartedly.

  “Is this behavior because I wouldn’t let you bring those humans down for a drink?” she asked, arching one shapely brow at her son. It didn’t matter that she was half his size; lethal energy oozed from her pores, darkening her gaze to black orbs and designating her as the queen of this kingdom.

  Until he ascended, she would be his better.

  Even if he didn’t want to admit it.

  “Grigory is just upset that he has to miss out on all the fun,” I told her, grinning at my oldest friend.

  The big man sat up, humor lacking in his expression. “Send me with him, Mother.”

  “It’s not your fight,” she replied before I had a chance.

  “The fuck it’s not. His family sent him here for a reason.”

  “And that reason has been fulfilled. He’s ready, Grigory.” She stared him down, some sort of mental battle of wills happening between them.

  I knew better than to interrupt one of their telepathic wars and opened the box instead.

  A watch.

  Of all the things for my father to leave me, this was not what I expected. I plucked it out of the box and turned it over, searching for anything unique about it.

  Nothing.

  Looked fresh from one of those posh stores on Earth. Even had English writing on the back denoting it was made in the United States.

  How completely boring and unoriginal.

  Still, it belonged to the one man I longed to know and never would, thanks to Necros’s insanity.

  I slid the metal over my wrist, clasping it with a silen
t vow of vengeance. One I repeated every night.

  Caluçon will be mine to destroy.

  And when I finished with it, Necros would weep at my feet for forgiveness.

  As for his pretty little wife, well, she’d cry, too. But for entirely different reasons.

  If Lux had taught me anything through the years, it was that winning required sacrifice. Alas, the poor Queen of Caluçon would provide the biggest sacrifice of all.

  Her heart.

  “That is a symbol of fate,” Lux said, gesturing at my wrist. “Your father met your mother because of it.”

  I arched a brow. “On Earth?”

  She nodded. “You know the story about how she was sent to watch over him, but not all the details. Apparently, he sensed her following him and ducked into a store to trap her. He purchased that watch in the process before taking her to hell.”

  “You mean kidnapping her,” I corrected, smirking.

  She smiled. “It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “All I have to rely on are stories.” Since they were both killed during my infancy, thanks to Necros and his father destroying the Shadow Kingdom.

  “They loved each other very much,” Lux assured me. “After your mother got over a few things.”

  Such as an angel being forced to survive in the Underworld, I thought to myself.

  My father had taken my mother almost immediately, and rather than reprimand her for watching his activities on Earth, he’d stolen her. And once a heavenly being entered hell, the entity could never return.

  Alas, my mother may not have fallen by her own choice, but her ancestors didn’t care. Which was why her side of the family hadn’t bothered to help when the Shadow Kingdom was destroyed. The dealings of the Underworld mattered little to those who didn’t reside here.

  “And no, Grigory,” Lux continued, her sable gaze narrowing at her son. “This is not your fight.”

  “At least let me escort him,” he argued, causing my lips to quirk upward. As if I needed anyone to escort me anywhere.

  “You think Necros would accept that both Princes of Noxia are interested in playing with his new pet?” She tsked, shaking her head. “He’d see right through that nonsense and expect to be challenged for the throne. It’ll be hard enough for Adrik to convince him on his own that he carries no political motivation, let alone for the two of you to go.”