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ragazza-whintigale · 4 months

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𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕵𝖚𝖉𝖊 𝕯𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖝 𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖆𝖓 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖗

𝔒𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔞 ➵ Cruel Prince

𝔄𝔳𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔢 ➵ Comportamento Yandere, fem Reader, contenuto sessuale esplicito e implicito, rapporti sessuali impliciti, minaccia , manipolazione emotiva, squilibrio di potere a danni di Mc, contenuto Lgbt, Dom Jude, Soft dom Cardan, Sub Reader.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔢 ➵ 1461

⟢𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 / 𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚘 ⟣

Per l’Alta Corte girava voce che l’Alto Re e l’Alta Regina avessero un amante. Una persona che i due condividevano, tuttavia non si sapeva chi fosse.

Alcuni supponevano fosse un mortale, altri dicevano fosse uno del Popolo.

Poi si facevano supposizioni sul sesso di detto amante. Femmina o Maschi.

In tutto questo lady (nome), che assiste da lontano un qualche Fae del palazzo, era tutto fuor che impressionata o sorpresa.

Lei è la così detta ‘amante’ dell’Alto Re e dell’Alta Regina. Nessuno avrebbe mai potuto sospettare di qualcuno che non aveva neppure l'occasione di interagire con i due regnanti. Forse era quello il motivo per cui era stata scelta. Qualcuno - non poteva ricordare chi esattamente - glielo aveva detto: Lei era la persona meno probabile. Il fatto che ancora nessuno era riuscito a scoprire chi fosse aveva reso le supposizioni della Regina più che corrette, beh… almeno fino a qualche settimana dietro.

Sfogliò il foglio ingiallito. Non sapeva di cosa era fatto e non era sicura di volerlo sapere, ha smesso di cercare una ragione negli usi qui ad Elfhame, in ogni caso non sarebbe rimasta a lungo in questo posto, aveva intenzione di andarsene il prima possibile.

Non appena il suo debito sarebbe stato saldato.

Le parole scritte con la magia ritraevano l’esistenza di un compagno di letto dei due sovrani, tuttavia nessuno aveva capito chi fosse.

Quando ha letto per la prima volta quel foglietto, aveva riportato i suoi dubbi a Jude e Cardan che risero alla sua preoccupazione lanciandole scuse poco più che al limite della rassicurazione. Poi hanno mandato tutto al vento nel loro crescente piacere. Il discorso non fu più aperto e lei non continuò a esporlo e veniva ancora segretamente scortata ogni giorno nelle loro stanze per riempire il loro tempo.

Facendo un veloce calcolo, passava più tempo con i due di quanto qualsiasi altro membro della corte a parte Jude e Cardan stessi. Oggi era una di quelle infinite giornate.

❝ Per Mab, (nome) non hai freddo vestita così.❞ I passi di Jude erano vicini, troppo vicino. Precisamente dietro di lei, la conferma arrivò quando le posò qualcosa sulle spalle sottili. Il pezzo di stoffa era grande e lungo, questo le faceva supporre appartenesse a uno dei due, forse a Jude stessa. O forse era semplicemente una coperta.

A volte aveva l’impressione di fasciarsi troppo la testa, e forse veramente per loro lei era più di un animale da compagnia. Ma poi era facile confondersi quando la vostra distanza di età era di oltre 10 anni.

Lady (nome) ha dovuto imparare molto presto che tutto questo era nella norma qui se non anche meno del normale.

Esiste molto di peggio, le aveva assicurato una volta Cardan mentre le faceva cerchi sulla schiena. Era la prima notte che era stata scortata da loro.

Jude l’ha tirata verso sé, schiacciando il suo petto con la schiena della mortale, chiudendo intorno alla sua figura la coperta che le aveva poggiato poco prima. Questa era una delle situazioni ‘normali’ a cui non poteva ancora smettere di arrossire e a Jude sembrava piacere questa semplice innocenza. L’avevano messa in situazioni molto peggiori di queste e ancora cose così semplici l’avrebbero imbarazzata a tal punto.

Piccoli elogi le caddero dalla labbra aumentando l’imbarazzo, facendo sentire (nome) - per l’ennesima volta - più al pari di un animale domestico che un amante.

❝Cosa stai leggendo di così interessante da ignorarci? ❞ Le dita di Jude componevano cerchi concentrici sul suo fianco mentre si sporgeva per leggere il contenuto. Cardan era uscito dal bagno con quel comportamento arioso e placido che lo contraddistingue, accentuato dalla doccia calda e dal rossore provocato dalla bottiglia di vino che aveva scolato. (Nome) si riteneva fortunata che i Fae non avessero lo stesso modo di reagire mortale all'ubriachezza. Sei mai quella poteva essere definita ubriachezza.

Lady (nome) abbassò il foglio abbastanza da permettere una facile lettura, consapevole che non sarebbe servito a nulla nasconderlo, lo avrebbero scoperto ugualmente. ❝ Ancora con questa storia? ❞ Cardan si era avvicinato per leggere, e il suo brusco commento non ha fatto molto per allentare la tensione. L’imbarazzo svanì completamente lasciando spazio a dubbio e timore ❝ Non è normale che io abbia paura? ❞ I lati del foglio si sono stropicciati sotto la tua presa. ❝ Nessuno ci rimetterebbe più di me in tutta questa storia. ❞ Un sospiro lasciò le labbra della Regina, poi le stesse labbra posarono un bacio sul retro dell’orecchio mandando brividi lungo tutto il corpo della ragazza. ❝ Mi sembra di averti già spiegato che ho tutto sotto controllo. Alla fine era inevitabile avrebbero scoperto dell’esistenza di qualcun altro…❞ Cardan si è seduto sul letto, (nome) non l’ha visto ma lo ha sentito. Il peso al suo fianco era aumentato, le mani del Re spostarono le gambe della mortale sopra le proprie, accarezzando la pelle nuda.

Per la prima volta erano calde le mani di Cardan. Era una sensazione piacevole e disgustosa allo stesso tempo. Il suo corpo rispondeva ormai a comando ai loro tocchi e questo la ripugnava abbastanza da cercare di ritrarre la gambe inutilmente. Le mani del sovrano strinsero la presa in una silenziosa minaccia a rimanere dove era. Non c’era il solito conforto che di solito lui rappresentava.

Decise di abbandonarsi nuovamente a loro.

Un sorriso tirò le labbra del Re e poco si poteva intuire cosa gli passasse per la testa. ❝ C-cosa intendi…? ❞ Il dubbio si insinuò persistente in lei. Se fosse stati loro a far trapelare la notizia come avvertimento. Per darle la consapevolezza del loro potere, capacità e influenza. Del diritto che avevano su di lei ma soprattutto del fatto che ancora gli apparteneva.

Loro avrebbero potuto tranquillamente mettere la voce di un amante per farle capire quanto lei necessitasse di loro o che non era ancora uscita da quella situazione abbastanza da poter fare una qualsiasi acrobazia azzardata.

(Nome) avrebbe voluto ritirarsi su se stessa con le gambe abbastanza vicine da poterle abbracciare e farsi più piccola in confronto alle due potenze che la circondavano.

Non riusciva a vedere Jude ma dallo sguardo di Cardan si poteva dedurre che sicuramente qualcosa era leggibile nella sua espressione.

Non ebbe il coraggio di girarsi

❝ Oh cara sei così carina quando fingi di non capire. ❞ Cardan rise con ironia e leggerezza mentre accarezzava, in un vago intento di tranquillizzarla, la pelle nuda. Eppure (nome) non ci trovava niente di divertente in quella situazione, anzi il tutto era sempre più inquietante. Non stava nemmeno fingendo come lui supponeva. Non tutti nascondevano la propria intelligenza sotto un velo di ignoranza come avevano fatto loro.

Lei non era stata presente durante la loro storia, ma conosceva il finale. ❝ Pensi che nessuno abbia sentito le tue dolci urla. ❞ Non si era accorta di aver mai urlato così forte da essere sentita . Un rossore si diffuse sul viso della ragazza nella consapevolezza delle scorsi notti. I due risero inteneriti mentre Jude si alzava dal suo posto. Il foglio di cronaca che aveva prima tra le mani era caduto a terra, e Jude lo raccolse. Lo lesse velocemente e lo strappo in 4.

(Nome) guardò sconcertata l’azione seguendo ancora la regina con lo sguardo, mentre si spostava verso il caminetto. In un attimo, prima ancora che qualcuno potesse obiettare, i pezzi di carta sono stati gettati nel fuoco.

❝ Cosi va molto meglio, ora non avrai più motivo di pensarci. ❞ Lo sguardo della Regina di Elfhame era su di lei, mentre lei guardava il foglio diventare cenere davanti ai suoi occhi.

Si chiese se avessero ragione, se veramente era solo paranoica. Forse si poteva godere tutto questo senza che diventasse un pericolo. Ma non era stata Jude stessa a dirle di non credere a niente che era offerto dalla corte? Lei e suo marito erano la corte. Modellata e governata da loro per loro, lei era una pedina su cui giocare.

La mano di Cardan posava sulla sua guancia ora, guidandola a distogliere lo sguardo dal fuoco per averlo per se. Gli occhi color mezzanotte con l’anello dorato intorno alla pupilla erano quasi ipnotici. Si trovò quasi a chiedersi se qualcuno potesse mai sospettare che ci fosse qualcuno che lui avrebbe guardato con lo stesso ardore e desiderio con cui guardava sua moglie.

❝ Ora ricominciamo da dove ci siamo interrotti.❞ Niente li aveva interrotti in realtà e lui era ancora in bagno quando era arrivata. Tuttavia non disse niente. Non disse che era ancora dubbiosa. Non disse che nonostante il foglio fosse stato bruciato il problema persiste. Non disse nemmeno che in quel momento voleva rimanere da sola, come tutte le altre sere prima di queste. Ma giustamente nessuna di quelle cose trovò posto per essere dette o ascoltate.

#yandere x reader #x reader #cruel prince #yandere Cruel Prince #dark feminine energy #dark fic #Dark Jude Duarte #Dark Jude Duarte x reader #Dark Jurdan #dark Jurdan x reader #dark cardan greenbriar X reader #dark cardan greenbriar #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #Jude Duarte x reader #cardan greenbriar x reader #jurdan #Jurdan x reader

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wanderingpages · 2 years

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.・。.・゜Dark AU ゜・。.

V E R S I O N 2

“It’s you that I’ve been thinking about and I shouldn’t be. You’re cattle waiting for slaughter, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Cardan tries not to lust after the girl he's supposed to kill.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Drugs, Sex, Murder/Talks of murder, Sexual/Physical Assault.

Cardan's POV

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I lean back to check it, only to see Madoc's text of the day. He's starting early, I note idly, glancing at the time. It’s near four in the morning. I clear the notification and slide the phone back into my pocket. I’m sure if I ignore him long enough, he’ll show his ugly mug soon, so that I can gladly stick a fork in his hand.

“Lollipop?” I glance up to Jude, her head is lolled against the chair, asking about the notification. When she yawns, she doesn’t try to hide it like she’d done before in the past few hours. She even lets out a groan and sigh, twitching her nose from side to side, like a witch from a 60’s sitcom I’ve seen before. The nostalgia makes my chest hurt. I lean my head against the wall, watching her watch me, both of us a sad mirror of each other; droopy eyes, hair askew, scratches and marks and someone else’ blood dried on us. Probably still high from whatever Ghost laced in his weed. She smiles weakly and I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder if she knows what I'm thinking. Despite her not only recalling Lolli’s name, but mentioning my ex sometime before, I still find myself thinking about my head between her thighs.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Want to see? She’s got bright blue hair and these pretty piercings I think you’d do well to reference on your next trip here,” if I’m sardonic, I’m too tired to care as I gesture lazily to the parlor. “I’m an exceptional piercer,” I grin. Jude keeps her eye contact with me, but flexes her jaw and shivers all the same.

“Liar,” she whispers, “you’re a very bad liar.” I think it’s rich coming from her, but she’s right. I don’t usually lie, I’m just usually good at skirting around the truth. Still, I find myself at a loss of words to come up with when she’s around. “It wasn’t her.”

I shrug, “they all blur together sometimes,” and that is quite the truth, but I can only give Jude half of it. “And yet…” I glance upward, behind her, where the wall splinters around the bullet embedded there. I rub at my thumb, partially inked and wounded, liking the ache that keeps me aware that I’m still alive. “There’s just something about Lolli,” my smile feels as sleazy as I sound. “She’s most definitely earned her name.” When I look back to Jude, I try to ignore the wounded look she gives me. Tied to a chair with a bullet wound in her arm, but it’s what I say about an earlier hookup that reminds her she should be very wary of me. “Tasted just as sweet.”

“Fuck you,” she tells me, straightening her head against the chair. She looks up at the light. “You’re so full of shit,” she mumbles boldly. “Wrong shade of brown,” she recalls, tone mocking brave for the position she’s in. “Why do you tell me these things?”

Instead of reminding her that she’s the one who’s brought it up, I tell her, “I should have taken you to Dain yesterday. I think that would have been the best choice to have you around people. I don’t think I’m supposed to torture you, if I’m honest. But I’ve been kind of itching to.”

She might have caught the grin I’m sporting, the most genuine one of the night, because she says, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“You’re the crazy one,” I remind her as I walk past the chair, so annoyed at the bullet hole, that I take a framed painting and switch it over to cover up the impurity.

“And trust me,” I turn to the chair, lean on it while my hand finds the lever underneath. She looks up at me startled, and lets out a yelp when the chair goes back. She’s laying down beneath me, not unsimilar to the night we met. “You’d know when I’m fucking you.” Her cheeks get warm, but her mind is elsewhere. I wonder if she’s thinking she should have kept her distance the night of the party. She should be aware by now, though, being tied up beneath me is just where she’d end up anyways. There are no stars in here to steal her attention this time, just me. She’s still pretty to me, but has her perception of me changed yet? “You should probably go to sleep,” I whisper. “You have an Econ test, don’t you?”

She blinks and I lift up, heading for the lights. “You… you messed up the aesthetic,” she points out, twisting her head slightly, noting the lack of symmetry in the array of photos on the wall now. “You’re letting me go to classes tomorrow?” she questions as an afterthought. “By myself?”

“Do you want to join a cult instead?” I’m mostly serious. She blinks, confused, right before I flick the lights off. Her Bambi eyes are starting to unnerve me again. Still, I feel her gaze in the darkness and it unnerves me just how fast her eyes not only have adjusted, but how intensely she’s staring at me. It’s all these subtle things that grow into something bigger. Her instincts are trained to adapt and maybe even kill if she can really help it.

“I thought I jumped through conversations half in my head,” she mumbles, quietly. Its like the darkness has blanketed us in secrecy. “Are you in a cult? Is this why you’re called King? What are you? The Priest?”

“Father this, Father that? I think I much prefer ‘Daddy’ then, no?” she lets out a noise, something like a gasp and a squeak. “Maybe that would make you my virgin sacrifice, right?” I’m teasing because I don’t really want to get into why Mayor Eldred was actually funding Church of Mab, a front for a cult pushing heroin, nor do I want to then explain why I have any rights to that signet on any document. In truth, Ghost could type some shit up that would exempt her from classes, and would cover some bases in regards to her suddenly not showing up. Its far more common, especially in Elfhame’s College Town, than anyone really suspects, but professors and school boards keep tight lips over it. Mayor Eldred also funds the university – or his estate does, at least. The elite, tenured professors are more than aware, possibly even part of the cult in question. No one would bat an eye at a young college student suddenly dropping out to find God and start an MLM scheme on heroin disguised as the body and blood of The Great Mab herself.

“How would that work,” Jude pulls me from thoughts, “If I’m not a virgin?”

I grin, despite myself, and we go back to square one, staring at each other.

Neither of us get sleep, and maybe that’s a good thing, seeing as not an hour later, Valerian is coming through the door, turning on the lights. We blink to adjust to the brightness, but Valerian’s ensemble of white on white on white doesn’t help. He looks like the Cult Leader’s Doctor. Even Jude winces when he sets a bag on the counter and pulls out medical tools. He’s quiet, as per usual, reeking of coffee so strong it makes my stomach churn. I’m absolutely starving and all I have is diet coke in the minifridge and melted ice cream that’s been out since yesterday, marinating in Ghost and Jude’s hotboxing.

He cuts Jude from her restraints then cleans and wraps the fresh wounds on her wrists before checking the stitches he’d given her yesterday. I check my messages, finding one from Dain that lets me know Jude’s mansion is all pristine.

Yesterday, when I had left, I ended up in Dain’s bar. Not something he’s built from the ground up, but something he just happens to own 51% of, much to the actual owner’s chagrin. He brings in customers, shady as they are, but she gets revenue and Dain has yet another place to hide from his wife. He’s not too happy with my using his tattoo shop as a pseudo torture dungeon again, but he’s a little amused at the run down I’d given him – in which my boss has me babysitting someone on the top of a hitlist he failed to mention. Not just babysitting, but befriending as well.

“This kind of sounds like Gen’s play at matchmaking. I mean, it’s a bit poetic if I think about it hard enough.” Dain pointed this out when I explained the bit about getting to know her as organically as possible. “That being said, I’m against Stockholm Syndrome.” His words either coincide or completely deviates from the text I had gotten from Madoc then. “please make sure she trusts you.” I had left him on read but duly noted Madoc’s use of the word ‘please.’ “Anyways,” Dain said just as Lollipop came to introduce herself. “It sounds like a bodyguard job, not a dungeon master one.” Looking at Madoc’s text now, I’m starting to wonder what game he's playing at.

“What’s in that,” Jude asks and when I look up from my phone, Valerian is gently rubbing a cream on to her skin.

“Bunch of good stuff, mixed with more good stuff,” he answers her, voice sounding hoarser than usual. I’m guessing it’s a low dosage of fentanyl and some powdered ibuprofen he stole from his night job as the resident mortician or something at that hospital.

“Right,” Jude tells him. “Of course. How could I have not known?” her wit is dry this morning. He ignores her and helps her up.

Valerian then reaches into his big bag of everything and pulls out another bag, clothes and a pair of sneakers that I hope to Mab he didn’t steal from one of his bodies being refrigerated. “It’s clean,” he tells her and I grimace, wondering why the hell I’m thinking about Mab so much today.

Jude looks to me and I shrug, telling her, “He is the cleanest person I know.”

“Ghost got it from your house,” he further explains and lets go of her hands. She sways a little, most definitely resembling Bambi now. When she loses her center of balance, trying to test out the kinks in her arms, my hands are on her waists instinctively. I like that her breath catches and she doesn’t scramble away from me like I’m betting her instincts are telling her to.

“5 seconds,” she whispers as I set her straight. I give her a questioning look and she explains, dazed, “I was somewhere else.” I start to wonder if Valerian actually had more then fentanyl in his concoction and if its already made its way through her blood stream.

“Where were you, then?”

I don’t expect her to answer, “On the bed in my room.” Her skin ignites; I'm guessing she hadn’t really expected to respond.

“Is that where you want me, princess?” She purses her lips and turns brusquely, following Valerian who had been waiting by the door that leads into the house.

He opens the door for us and if she’s asking why there’s a giant portrait of the late mayor on the wall, I gently guide her to the half bathroom and disregard the question.

I turn to find Valerian a few feet behind me, sanitizing his hand and spraying some disinfectant on his bag. “How’s Balekin doing?”

“Better,” he says solemnly. “I will pray for his speedy demise.” He’s absolutely serious about that too. “Do you want me to switch his IV bag?” I shake my head, but he knows the thought has crossed my mind. We’re just in sync like that. He hands me a small bag of travel sized toiletries and a small phone I'm guessing Ghost had fixed up for her. Valerian leaves through the back door and I pass the bag over to Jude when the bathroom door opens. She looks at me panicked, glances at the bag confused, grabs it and shuts the door before opening it again five minutes later.

“What?” I ask her.

“I can’t remember anything,” her furrowed brows and trembling lips make me uncomfortable. “I don’t remember what the midterm is going to be about!”

I don’t know why I did it – why I decided it would be a good idea to not only escort her to class, but sit right beside her in the crowded lecture hall. I must be a glutton for punishment. I angrily fill out the sheet that had been handed to me, cosplaying as someone who knows Econ so well, I didn’t even have to study. When I glance over to her, she winces as she moves her arm. Go figure, it’s her dominant hand that was wounded. I make a note to tell Valerian to mix some stronger concoction, maybe with morphine instead. When she rubs at her wrist, I gather it’s a habit she’s just initialized, an anxiety induced action when she doesn’t know the answer to her exam questions.

I look over at the students around me and I want to bang my head against the fucking wall. There’s a reason I dropped out of school. Asha couldn’t be bothered to care if I even had a pencil to my name, and then I couldn’t be bothered to worry about school work and trying to survive that drug den at the same time. Asha was good for keeping up a façade, because it made no sense that she’d ever have credentials for fostering if she wasn’t smart enough to play the system. From shitty foster home to shitty foster home, Asha’s was by far the worst of it. I hadn’t been the only kid in the house, but I never saw anyone more than a few months. For some reason, Asha kept me much longer than the rest. I didn’t know who’s punishment was worse, at the time.

When Asha was cracked out, she was often kind to me, in a desperate sort of way. It was when she was sober that I’d suffer the brunt of her emotions, whether it was a slap to the face, a cigarette to my skin or a minute alone in the room with her husband, I thought, it would get better if I held out, if she had her needle filled with special liquid, she’d love me and save me. I used to pray every night she’d get another delivery of heroine until the cost of it started to become…me. One day, when I realized nothing in the weathered bible I kept under my bed would ever save me, I left all the gas burners running and got the fuck out. To my dismay, only my foster dad and his fuck buddy of the day had died. Asha managed to get away from the fire, and it turned out that foster Daddy had one hell of a life insurance plan.

Before Asha could even be investigated properly about the suspicious death, she fucked her lawyer right past a get out of jail free card and straight into unholy matrimony. Maybe a blessing, had they found something that she could have spun to blame on me and get me sent to Juvie. Still, that left me homeless at 14 and with a complex so severe, it was no wonder when Madoc showed up in my life, I clung to him.

I hadn’t spent half my life learning Geometry and Hamlet, but I picked up a few tips on chemical compounds and set Asha’s fancy new house on fire years later when I’d reunite with Mommy dearest. I made sure she knew who was slitting her throat that night. I wanted her looking into my eyes, begging me for mercy. “I am the monster you created.” I couldn’t find God, so I became one, and I took her life like it was my right.

My jaw clenches so tight that my teeth ache. The pencil in my hand snaps and Jude looks over at me like I'm being a nuisance. and I stare back, daring her to say something in the way too quiet room filled with seventy more students cheating on this stupid test. She breaks first and I go over the sheet I was handed. I let out a sigh when I realize I now all the answers to these bullshit theoreticals. I fill out the Scantron with a heavy hand, annoyed that I retained information from the few times Eldred actually spoke to me. Or, spoke near me.

When her professor calls time, I switch our papers, dropping Jude’s exam into her open bag and passing mine forward instead. Her eyes are wide but before she can comment, I grab her bag and her hand, pulling her to the exit, shoving past people already complaining about questions.

“What the fuck?” She asks and I tug her closer to my side, bringing my arm around her shoulder. To keep her from running off. “You can’t just do that, Cardan!”

I look down at her, “Why not?”

“It’s cheating!” I almost laugh at her. It’s cheating. She’s got a hit out on her and her babysitter is the fucking Grim Reaper on a good day. But, yeah, she’s worried about cheating.

“You were the only one pulling answers out of your ass, baby girl.” She blinks up at me and I roll my eyes, “Everyone had their phones out.”

Her cheeks tint and her nose scrunches like the little witch she is, and like the unbelievably weak person that I am, I’m entranced. She wants to argue but finally she settles on, “How do you even know about economic growth and the business cycle?”

I find that I don’t want to tell her, don’t want her to know how wacked my entire history is, but I want to give her something she can ponder on, something she’d no doubt use to figure out me out soon enough. “Do you know why they call me King?”

“Not at all – it’s not like I’ve been asking since you kidnapped me yesterday and held me hostage until the ass crack of dawn,” she mutters. I squeeze her shoulder in warning. She’s mouthy, but too ballsy for her own good.

“It’s because of who my dad is.”

“If that’s how it works,” she snorts, “I’d be a queen with who my dad is.”

“Or a saint,” I throw out, guessing at missing puzzles pieces. She won’t say it, maybe she thinks I already know, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. I’m nearly certain I know who her dad is now. A cross references with only a handful of people with the last name Duarte, and the only two people funding a certain summer camp, I’m starting to realize just how much shit Madoc has gotten me into. If my dad had been funding The Church, her dad was the head of it.

She changes the subject, doesn’t want to acknowledge the jab, and says, “Wouldn’t that make you a prince then?”

I grin, grimly, leading her just off campus to the coffee shop her friends had texted her about earlier. Through the immense amounts of notification in their group chat, I gathered they’re excited her phone’s back on and were super worried about her health but apparently had no idea where she even lived. “Dad’s dead. Or at least on paper he is.”

“What does that even mean?” I shrug and let her marinate in that for herself. She yawns deeply for the umpteenth time, and I probably should have spent more time persuading her to sleep instead of having a staring contest with her all night. If I wasn’t thinking about ways I could possibly kill her when Madoc tells me to, I was definitely starting to think about her with less and less clothes on. Thoughts of my tryst with Tootsie Roll started to resemble Jude taking up her space.

“You ever think about dying your hair blue?”

“No. Too discernible, King.” She says this like it’s obvious, and no shit it is. Under the surface at least, but her comment lets me know she’s aware of a lot more going on than I do. But, I figure, she’s already under a lot of people’s radars anyways, what’s stopping her now? “You picturing me as Candy, again?” I can’t help the grin that escapes me as I hold the door open for her.

“That depends. Are you offering a taste?”

She elbows me as I walk behind her, then winces at the sudden shift in her arm and I smirk, placing my palm against the wound. She sucks in a breath but doesn’t shove me off. I know the pressure is helping some and she doesn’t want to accept that, so she ignores me, spotting her friends. As Jude had said, they’ve got their own issues stemming from absentee dads or whatever so they haven’t really noticed the strangeness of Jude’s sudden no-contact.

They wave her over and their smiles turn Cheshire when they spot me behind her, not at all releasing my hold. “Jude!” Liliver exclaims, “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing a friend?”

“He just followed me here,” Jude deadpans, earning a soft giggle from her. Nicasia, on the other hand, eyes me up and down, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to place me. Recognition slowly dawns on her, but she’s still confused. I smile at Nicasia, daring her to say something, to tell Jude what I already told her anyway. How could she possibly know who I am without explaining herself?

“I’m Cardan,” I tell them, wondering too late, if I should have lied about that.

Liliver gasps, eyes going wide, “You were at the frat party! I didn’t know you two hit it off like that,” she looks at Jude, accusingly.

“He took me home. He’s been lurking ever since.” She reaches and gently pats my chest, looking up at me like she’s infatuated.

“Finally kidnapped her yesterday and kept her up the whole night,” I add in, playing along. Liliver looks scandalized but Nicasia raises a brow and lets out a whistle.

“That’s why you haven’t been answering my calls,” Liliver gives Jude a knowing look and Jude’s jaw ticks just the slightest that they haven’t caught on to her lie. Sorry baby, they cant save you.

She goes to say something, but the barista calls out Nicasia’s name and three cups are slid her way. She hands them each off and looks at me apologetically, having none for me. But Jude waves her off and hands me her cup while taking her bag from my hand. I definitely don’t need more stimulants in my blood, but I grab it and sip from it anyways.

“So what Frat are you in?” Liliver leans against a pillar, eyes narrowed as if trying to visualize where I fit in.

Jude leans against me and tilts her head back to look up at me, “Go on babe, tell them.”

I roll my eyes and tap her nose with the tip of the coffee cup. “Theta Delta Sigma,” I rattle off a bunch of Greek letters and they either don’t care enough to call me out on my bullshit or they have no idea that I’m lying.

“How long have you been in?” Liliver taps a finger on her lips, still trying to place me.

I shrug, “A few years.”

“Ooh,” Nicasia’s eyes sparkle, “What was your initiation like?”

Jude frowns, shifting against me. “I don’t think he can talk about that.”

Her friend rolls her eyes, “What am I gonna do? Tell the campus police? Should I also tell them about the bag of weed I’m carrying or the fake ID you have?” I should throw in the guns in the car and the coke in my pocket, just for kicks.

Jude sighs and rests her head back against me, eyes closing, as if looking for patience. I look down at her, gauging her reaction, but her breathing shallows out far quicker than I’d like. “I had to tie someone up and get them to confess something heinous they did on camera.” This happened of course, but when I was seventeen and Madoc had just about enough of me trailing him. He had sighed and told me, “prove it, then. Show me you want this hell.” He gave me a lowdown and I did as he asked, put the fear of God in the creepy youth pastor who liked to groom little girls and boys. I didn’t want Madoc’s hell. I wanted my own power. There is footage out there of said tortured pedophile, but it won’t ever be released. Because his body won’t ever be found.

“Whoa,” Liliver breathes, “That’s hard core.”

Nicasia’s eyes are wide too but if she does go back on her word and snitches on me to campus patrol, who can’t actually do shit on a crime that doesn’t technically exist towards a made up fraternity, I have the knowledge of her fake ID and bag of weed she’s carrying. I’m not above ratting her out in pure spite. “What did he do?”

“I’d rather not let you lose sleep on that.” I smile and gesture with my chin to Jude who still has yet to open her eyes. Her breathing is far too even for her to be cognate, but she can’t be well into a REM cycle just yet. “Speaking of sleep, I should probably get her home.”

Liliver giggles, “You kept her busy last night, poor Jude.” I hadn’t kept her busy at all. Just paranoid. I shrug bashfully and jostle Jude slightly.

Her eyes flutter open and she glances around with a frown on her face. “Did I just fall asleep?”

“No, you just blinked for a very long time,” Nicasia mutters. She waves her hand in dismissal, “Go cuddle with your little vigilante, I’ll see you later.”

“Vigilante?”

“Say bye to your girls, babe.” I turn and lead her out, she frowns but still twists her body to wave back at her friends.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?”

“Of course not.”

She pouts, “Well, can I least get a sofa this time, I still have kinks in weird places from that chair I spent the day in. Also, can I have alcohol? I think I really need a drink, because I’ve been trying to block everything out, and it was working well because of that test, but things are slowing down and I just keep thinking about that guy with an arrow in his throat. And to think I just grabbed that crossbow from its mount on the wall. I didn’t even think it’d actually shoot.”

Ignoring her mostly, I say, “I’ll do you one better. An actual bed.” She sighs almost contently, continuing her rambles.

“You know if I didn’t have this bullet wound, which – I'm coming to terms with by the way that Ghost shot me –

“He didn’t shoot you,” I tell her and she rolls her eyes like she thinks I’m lying.

“ – I would have escaped my confines,” she continues and I open the door to my truck for her then help her up.

“Oh yeah?” I ask and she nods, leaning down close to my face.

Her blood shot eyes are wide with mirth as she whispers like she’s telling me a secret. “Daddy taught me. In a game,” she lets me know and I don’t like the feeling I get when she confides in me. “I got candy when I won. Red Jolly Ranchers are my favorite.” She grins at me sleepily.

I glance down at her lips then back to her eyes, quite lively today, stunning when the sun hits it right. “You’ll have to show me then.” I pull the seatbelt strap around her, clicking it into place.

She grins, “Anything just to tie me up again, huh?” she snorts and leans back against the seat and I shut the door, heading to the driver side. Her head lolls to look at me, the humored smile tapering slightly. “You don’t have to,” she sighs, “Tie me up, I mean. Daddy’s not coming for me. I learned long ago he doesn’t care about us. He’d let you kill me. Hell, he’ll take the gun from you and shoot me himself just to get it over with.” Despite going into this blind, and still unsure if Ren and Stimpy are related to what Madoc is doing, I’m beginning to grasp most of Jude’s short comings have been catered to her dad’s liking. So, the truth is, I believe her. And with the look of guilt on her face, it’s not hard to guess how torn she is about this tidbit of information.

I think she realizes she’s said too much because she frowns, and when she reaches forward to touch the dials on the radio, her fingers tremble. She fiddles with the stations until she finally settles on something pop.

She falls asleep before the first song even finishes, yet I don’t turn off the blaring music. When I finally park the truck, I turn to face her, taking in the twitch of her fingers and the irises fluttering beneath her lids. Her lips are parted, and I can’t help the smirk at the trail of drool down the side of her mouth. When I reach out to wipe her chin I know I’m fucked. I think I’ve known since the party.

I shake my head and exit the car, jogging to her side to shuffle her into my arms. I sigh and ring the doorbell when I reach the entrance, unable to get my keys at the proper angle, unusually flustered by Jude’s hot breath against my neck. Dain pulls the door open, eyes going wide at the girl in my arms. “This her?”

“No, it’s the fucking pizza you ordered. Move, so I can get in.”

He grins, “I wouldn’t mind eating her.” He’s looking for a reaction and I almost give it to him. My grip on Jude tightens and she stirs, murmuring something before nuzzling deeper into my neck. Dain looks very much amused. He takes a step and I’m disconcerted. I’ve hardly ever used this entrance, but for the past few weeks alone, I’ve seen it more than I’d like. Yeah, I gave myself a complex about this house and being the estranged son of the mayor. When I begged my social worker to find me anyone who would pity me enough to let me couch surf until I hit 18, I never expected her to find Eldred of all people. He had been unconcerned with the new baggage he’d acquired, but Dain, who had only been 17 then, made sure I had a room to sleep in at least. He took care of me, but it wasn’t enough most of the time. Off to repent for his own sins, no time for mine as well. And so when Madoc came along, I stuck by him. Probably having Dain and Madoc as pseudo parents was as dysfunctional as all my foster homes, but I'd take them tag teaming on a half assed parental guidance than reliving any part of my first 14 years of life.

“East,” Dain tells me, when I guess I’ve been standing a minute longer than necessary. I glance and he gives me a knowing look before glancing up the main staircases. Its much easier finding an exit in the place than it is finding the room I spent the last 8 years of my life in.

“Elvira,” I say her name like a question as I make my way up the stairs.

“That primadonna bitch,” Dain mutters, “is napping in the sun room. Your precious princess is fine.” He whines, but Elvira is practically family.

I find my room and set Jude on the bed before I ruffle through my drawers. I hear her yawn just a moment later and when I turn, I see that she’s sat up halfway, resting on her elbows, blinking herself awake. I toss a shirt at her and it lands square in her face. She looks down when it falls into her lap then looks up at me. “Who’s Elvira?” little sneak had been eaves dropping.

I raise a brow and tug my shirt off. She looks at me with wide eyes, trailing over my skin. I reach for the buttons on my jeans, curiously looking over her observation of me. Her skin is flushed, breathing going just a bit shallow, focused on my fingers as I slide down my zipper. She lets out a soft squeak that almost makes me laugh. When my hands no longer obscure my pelvis, Jude places a hand to her cheek, almost resembling the likes of pearl-clutching old ladies.

Scandalized but still watching. “Is that… ?”

“Is that what?”

She holds the shirt I’d given her close to her chest like a lifeline. “Nothing,” she stutters, getting up abruptly.

I glance down wondering if Dain tattooed some gang signs on me without my consent, but I’m sure I’d have already recognized something like that. Then I understand and I smirk. “Oh,” and I’m absolutely charmed by her being so flustered over a piercing.

"Turn around so I can change."

“I’ve seen it all, Jude.” Her teeth grits at the reminder that I’ve been watching her, even when she had been at her most comfortable. I settle on an accent chair I position close to the door, leaning my head back and parting my legs. “I’ve even seen better,” I muse just to piss her off. I hear her mutter something, and I laugh closing my eyes anyway. After a moment, she huffs and shuffles about. She tells me she done only a minute or two later. I see her jeans and shirt folded neatly at the foot of the bed and further up, I see that the covers are drawn all the way to her chest. She turns to her side, watching me.

“No handcuffs?”

I lean over and dig into the bedside table drawer and pull out a wad of neon zip ties. “Pick a color.”

“Pink,” she holds her hands out, palms down. I twist her hands until her palms face each other and loop the plastic around her wrist. “What about my arm?”

It’s bleeding when I glance at it, but it doesn’t seem dire. “You’ll be fine.” She scowls at me but shifts until she feels comfortable. I get up to draw the curtains close, then return to the chair.

“Did it hurt?”

I look at the way the glow from the lamp reflects in her irises. Her tawny eyes look golden. “When I fell from heaven?”

She glares at me, “I know you crawled out of hell. I meant, you know, your piercing.”

I chuckle and lean back, “Yeah, when I got it, sure.”

“Why would you get something like that?”

“Nobody’s really complaining, Jude.” I grin, “Want a feel?” she rolls her eyes but there’s a part of me that knows I could never let that shit happen if she were to even spite me and say yes. The thought of her grinding her hips against mine just to find that perfect angle, to get my piercing to rub her swollen clit, has my hands clenching. Jude might actually kill me before I can even point a bullet in her direction. “Fuck,” I groan out, slumping back. If she notices my sudden turmoil, then she doesn’t comment on it.

“So, is Elvira part of your roster of girls?” I give her a look, trying to assess if she’s going for small talk or if Lolli had really bothered her. Indignant, and maybe even vindictive, she tilts her chin almost proudly and adds, “Just want to know where I fall on the list. Is it Elvira, Sophie, Lolli then me? Sophie, Lolli, me then Elvira?” The mention of Sophie’s name has me tensed and sobered. What bothers me the most is that, somehow Jude had made it to the top of the list, albeit, different from what she’s getting at, but still, I couldn’t let her know that.

Before I can say something to piss her off, the door slams open, and we both turn to see a very erratic looking Ghost enter. He glances at me, eyeing my lack of attire, then Jude, who’s arm had started bleeding through my shirt. “Shit,” Ghost mutters, handing me the laptop he had been carrying and the coffee he probably should lay off of. “I’ll let Valerian know,” he tells us, shrugging off his sweater and bunching it up to place on Jude’s arm. She winces and lets out a curse, but Ghost only turns to me to explain, “No malware… but. Shit man, what the hell is Gen getting you into?”

I open the laptop, walking it over to Jude. There’s a video already on screen, paused. Its dim and grainy and despite half the screen being partially obscured, I make out the features of the sleeping girl on screen. It’s Jude, I realize. Except it’s not. Identical until the mirror image starts to look off. I cant explain it, but I know that’s not Jude in the video. Jude reaches and hits the play button, but she’s so stiff that it seems like every move hurts her to make. Ghost watches me as I alternate between watching Jude and the video. I don’t understand until Jude gasps. Her eyes widen in horror and I think it’s saying something that she’s this petrified given the past few weeks that she’s had. Her eye’s well up and when I turn to the screen, it’s like a buzzing noise starts in my ears. I can’t hear anything but static when I recognize the knife being held to the jugular of the sleeping girl.

I feel a bit sick, recalling images that had been sent to me, nearly identical, but instead of Jude’s look-alike, it had been my fiancée, and back then, I had been far too late. I look to Ghost, wondering how this had escalated from ransom for Jude to emotional torture for me. It’s like my presence had escalated the danger. “They know,” I say. But its more than that, something clicks in my mind but I don’t want to think about it at all, I don’t want it to be real.

Suddenly, Jude lets out a gasp, and jolts against Ghost. Her arm jerks a little then the rest of her body starts to shake uncontrollably. I grab on to her, but her eyes roll back and her body slumps. Ghost pries my hands from Jude – I hadn’t realized I had been squeezing so hard – and he grabs the laptop after guiding her down. Then he tells me what I’ve already figured, “That’s her sister. That’s Taryn.”

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