Chapter Fifty-One

***Kallias***
The King takes an hour to calm down, during which he manages to smash most of the windows. I understand it, to some extent. He lost his Pearl again, but did he really have to go through nearly all our liquor?

At least he wasn’t impaled through the chest with a wooden beam by his Pearl. That was absolutely brutal.

I'm not sure how we'll manage to fight against it the next time we cross paths. Maybe it's best to just let the Pearl take off and run. I can't bear the thought of that kind of dark magic coursing through my veins. It brings back too many memories of my mother's.

A shiver passes through my shoulders. I take a deep sip of some of Vienna’s hidden rum to calm it down.

I’ve never been so close to death in my life than I was tonight. And I’ve been in countless wars.

There’s a phantom pain where the Pearl threw a beam through my chest and even though I drank the Offering’s blood, I can still feel the pain. The fear.
The Pearl had manipulated my emotions in a way that even Xaden couldn’t compete with.

So again, I have no idea how we’re going to take it.

But I can at least drink.

Keiran exploding is enough for me to have a raging headache. Everything hurts, and I can’t stop thinking about the Offering in her bath-our bath. I want more than anything to go to her now, have her eager little lips wrap around my cock.

But we are loyal to the King, first.

Glass crunches beneath Xaden’s boots as he fetches a bottle of rum and hands it to Keiran. His tantrum has settled in his throne room, and he sits on the black diamond chair in a way that resembles one of my greatest enemies.

“Drink,” Xaden orders. When Keiran gets like this, Xaden is the only one he’ll listen to.

Keiran takes the bottle, chest heaving, then downs half of it in three sips. He’s sweating, and the King never sweats.

Maybe his power is waning again.

I guess I don’t blame him. If I was responsible for hundreds of thousands of souls and had no way to save them, I’d be stressed out, too.

I take another swig from my bottle and feel my brother watching me.

What? I ask him.

How are you feeling?

Better than ever. Healed by an Offering. Were you scared I would die?

Rhodes frowns at me.

Xaden scowls at us. “Quit talking behind our backs. If you have something to say, say it out loud.”

Rhodes’s frown deepens.

Keiran sighs into his chair.

“Now what?” I ask. I want to be done with this as soon as possible and in my brother’s bed with the Offering.

Keiran closes his eyes. None of us dare to speak.

The front doors to the throne room bang open, and the sounds of Twilight House’s usual nightly affairs hit us like a thunderbolt.

Party-goers, most likely from some scheduled event we all completely forgot about, enter the throne room in a swirl of deep reds and blacks. With a sharp inhale, Xaden removes all the glass on the floor, misting it into nothing.

We all recognize the women from the Third Isle, the one that revolves around the ocean. And we all sense the memory of our various times getting them wet.
Keiran’s eyes shoot open.

Just a few weeks ago, before this Offering, every evening was the same. Women from various courts, either from our own or visiting in hopes of gaining the King’s attention, drinking, partying, and blood.

We are all bastards.

Even though this Offering has changed us, she cannot change our past.

Some girls I recognize from town come up to us on their own accord. Most notice Keiran’s anger and keep a well-maintained distance.

Good, more pussy for me and my brother.

But one, their leader, Whitney, or whatever her name is, is daring enough to call out to the King. He watches her with hooded eyes.

“Keiran,” she says, sauntering over to him. She has dark, pretty skin, and cherry red lips that we’ve all had a turn on our dicks.

The girl sits on Keiran’s lap. He lets her.

A few others find their place between me and my twin. We may not be King, but we are his men, his Hunters, and that holds an undeniable currency in this dark, twisted world.

A beautiful girl leans over to my ear, whispering something I couldn’t care less about.

I’m split between wanting to touch and not touching.

What the fuck is this?

I am not a man who has ever…not touched.

Whitney hooks her arm around Keiran’s neck and leans into him. He takes another long sip from his drink as if contemplating her presence. “Did you miss me?” she asks him and slides her bare legs against his pants.

The one next to me leans in, too, drawing her painted white fingernails over my shirtless chest.

It’s not uncommon in our court to be shirtless.

Not in the way Keiran runs things.

“How are you, Kallias?”

Ah, now I remember her. This one is an attention whore. I’ve fucked her a few times, but she always insists on it being alone. She always cries whenever I go to another, but I don’t care. No one woman has ever been able to have me.

She leans into me further, inches away from kissing my neck. A part of me wants to give in, but a part of me just doesn’t care. The last time we hooked up she slapped me across the face and called me an arrogant prick.

I had just smiled, then continued fucking her sister.

Thinking about this, my cock twitches, and I have to adjust my pants. I have to fight the urge not to grab the female and draw her onto my lap just to punish her, maybe slap her back while she sucks my dick.

But something stays in my hand.

Something I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

The awareness of the Offering down the hall is like a band on my throat.

She saved my life tonight, and I can’t imagine…hurting her.

I shake my head, almost willing myself to focus on the girl before me. I don’t care what Remi thinks..I don’t fucking care.

“Why are you giving me that look?” Keiran asks Xaden.

Xaden is the only one of us without a girl wrapped around his shoulder. If they thought it was safe, they’d all go for him, but the last time a girl tried to touch Xaden…
Let’s just say they all know better than to try with him.

“What do you think the Offering would do if she walked in here and saw you with that on your lap?” Xaden prompts.

“Um, rude?” Whitney says.

Keiran sits forward, nearly throwing the girl off of him in the process. “I am a King,” he growls, clearly drunk. “I do what I want.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“And I don’t owe her anything,” Keiran adds.

Xaden laughs. “The only reason you even have that whore on your lap is because the Offering saved them.”

“And who is she to tell me I can’t fuck whoever I want?” Keiran says. “It’s not like I’m interested in virgins, anyways.”

Xaden leans back in his chair. “She’s already outmaneuvered you and you don’t even recognize you’re playing the game.”

My twin looks at me. When do you think Xaden is going to admit he cares for the Offering?

I snort. And destroy his cover as heartless? Never.

He’s right, though. Rhodes sighs. If the Offering comes out here, I’m not sure how she’ll handle it.

The Offering is many things, but she is not confrontative. I say back. Remi is too sweet. She will not confront the King and he knows it.

A blonde girl, one I haven’t fucked before, interrupts our conversation. “My name is–”

“Do I look like I care what your name is?” Rhodes snaps, barely giving her a look.

On edge, tonight? I tease him.

Shut the fuck up.

The Offering is in your head as much as she is mine.

Rhodes gives me a heavy look. Well, we are twins, aren’t we?

When I laugh out loud, the girls surrounding us frown. They want to be included in the conversation, but Rhodes and I don’t compromise for anyone.
Remi is the only one who can listen.

Xaden sighs and pours himself another drink. Keiran carries on with Whitney like he’s just daring Xaden to say something.

But the Midnight King hasn’t undressed her. He hasn’t kissed her. Won’t tell her to get on her knees and fuck her in front of us.

Rhodes and I notice the truth at the same time.

Our King is just as reluctant as we are.