Read Books #1 and #2 via ╰┈➤ˎˊ Amazon
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Xavier and Lyndi’s story is a dark contemporary paranormal romance that contains graphic, mature content such as violence, self-harm, suicide ideation, and explicit sexual scenes, including dubious consent, that may not be suitable for all readers.
LYNDI
Where are you?
A group shoves past me, and I recognize the leering blonde guy, red flames covering his black shirt. Wyvern.
The dude has wicked scales up his arms and neck, like 3D makeup or tattooing. Everyone in his group narrows their red eyes on me as if I’m a prey animal mistakenly strolling into their lair.
Yeah, it sure feels that way.
I’m glad that the larger of the bouncers will be helping me find my friends in this shit-hole tunnel. It’s probably a good idea to stay close to him until I find the girls.
“I’m Lyndi, by the way.”
He nods. His regular, brown eyes are a welcome sight. “So I’ve been told. Name’s Jeb. Stay close. Tell me if you see your friends.”
I scan the room as we slowly move through the crowd in concentric circles.
“Next room?” Jeb asks, and I nod, biting my tongue as some prick shoves hard into me. He looks right at me and then keeps walking like he doesn’t care. Jeb reaches over and tugs me by the arm until we reach a black curtain.
It’s quieter in the red-lit hall—not a hall, but an oppressive tunnel. Concrete walls circling overhead, the feeling of closing in. God, how far underground does this thing go? Is it safe to be in a tunnel while it’s storming? I mean, this is Florida. Rain is torrential. Sinkholes can occur at any time.
“Is this watertight?”
I don’t know if Jeb is ignoring me or doesn’t feel like answering. He only motions his hand as we near an open door. Purple light dances on the smoke where people sway. The music down here seems to fall rather than rise, muffled between thick walls. People are too wasted to care. I scan the crowd, but Jeb doesn’t stop to escort me in.
“Hey, where are you going?” I call out. He looks back impatiently, waiting for me to catch up.
“We’re heading to VIP.”
“Where is that?”
“Deeper. Stay close. You get lost, and I’m in trouble with the big guy.”
Deeper? My stomach drops. It’s hard to imagine my girls descending very far into this thing. One could easily get lost down here. Unalived. So far underground that you’re already buried when you die. I need to pick Jeb’s brain or get him talking without sounding suspicious.
“So, Jeb… Why don’t you wear the red eye contacts like everybody else? Not your thing?”
He shoots me a side look. “Contacts?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe it’s genetic,” he shrugs.
“Right,” I frown.
“How big is this place, Jeb?”
He shrugs. “It’s a freakin’ labyrinth. I work the four tunnels of the club zone. Never seen it to capacity. It can hold something like 700—wouldn’t want to be here when it does.”
He comes to a sudden halt outside a dark red door, a VIP sign above it. He answers his phone, glancing at me with a nod.
I get the sneaking suspicion that the call is about me. It’s probably the Layne P.A., Jasmine, checking up on me. Is this how they treat all their lotto winners?
He enters the key code, motioning me into a dark room with a curtain, where music is coming from the other side that I instantly recognize. Crownless. Xavier’s haunting Dracula voice perfectly matches his bass guitar's doom-metal riffs.
Passing through the velvet cloth, I’m hit with a heavy whiff of marijuana smoke. The room is so dark that it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. There’s a vast, candle-lit chandelier hanging down and clusters of people scattered along the dark edges of the room. But where are my girls? I’m about to pull out my phone and call Amy when she pinches my arm.
“Holy shit, Lynds!”
Maryanne appears beside her with a sigh. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? First Katie, then you.”
“I’m sorry, guys. I was with Xavier, and then…it took a few minutes to get here.”
Amy’s glazed eyeballs widen. “You were with Xavier Layne?”
“Yeah, but we can talk about that later. Let’s find Katie.”
“We found Jax,” says Marianne, perfectly sober.
“But he says he hasn’t seen her,” slurs Amy. She teeters, and I reach for her arm, steadying her.
“Woah there.”
“I’m taking you to the lower level,” says Jeb, appearing beside me. “Find your friend, and then I’ll escort you back to your room.”
Maryanne links arms with me and Amy as we follow. At least it’s not so crowded here, and the vibe is more chill. I pause on a girl in a black v-neck blouse, but it’s not Katie.
Maryanne glances at me. “Back to your room?”
“I have a curfew at midnight.”
“That’s in the contract?
“Xavier’s orders.”
“What?”
“What about Xavier?” chimes Amy, and I shake my head, not wanting to get into it. I don’t want to believe it. Nor can I believe that my body belonged to Xavier for about two minutes, frozen in time.
There’s no other way to put it; he took complete hold of me, possessing me under a dark spell, violating my personal space while working me into a wet frenzy. But I don't feel like slut-shaming myself over it. Besides, it’s not like he asked permission. Guiltily, that's part of what made it so hot. But only because everything about him is so goddamn supernatural. Ghost-girl, he called the phantom voice with a growl while smashing his bis big, hard cock against me.
“Through here,” says Jeb, turning a corner. The tunnel falls back, widening at the crumbling edges where lit lanterns hang from chains.
“Stop here a sec,” he says, looking at his phone.
“Is it just me, or did the air get thinner?” says Maryanne.
“And it smells weird,” adds Amy.
“Earthier,” I mutter, ducking my head with a yelp when I feel something fly overhead. “What the hell was that?”
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket. “Don’t be late,” Xavier warns. Seriously? I check the time. 11:30 The witching hour curfew draws near. But, whatever. My only goal right now is to find my missing friend. Curfew be damned.
XAVIER
Time's a-ticking.
“We’ve got a little intruder, Mr. Layne,” says Jasmine through my phone speaker.
I pull down the black-out screen, shutting off the lights.
“Where exactly?”
“Your study. I would have fed her to security, but…she insists she knows you. She won’t tell me her real name. Does Dark Fire ring a bell, sir?”
Fuck. “She’s from the dragon court.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Be there in five.”
“Yes, sir.”
I run my hands over my face with a sigh. This court politics shit is getting old. Lately, every trouble seems to do with bad blood, both literal and figurative. I bet this visit from the court has something to do with Damon’s dirty dealings.
As for his darling daughter… The only good thing about today was that fleeting moment when I had a grip on her sweet tongue. Mm. I can only imagine how delicious her pussy tastes.
When my phone buzzes, I ignore it, locking the door. I go to the corner shelf and press it open before slipping into the secret passageway. I walk the straight, narrow corridor while checking the text message sent from Jeb. He says they located Katie.
I check the time. 11:45. Wonder if Lyndi is being a good girl and returning to her room. Otherwise, I think I’ll enjoy punishing her.
Another text. Jeb says that Jax has invited them into Volo’s Dungeon, where Katie is. My jaw clenches with anger when I call to protest, and Jeb doesn’t answer. Neither does Jax. Cell reception is shit in the caves. They must already be to Volos, then.
Fuck.
I get this tinge of satisfaction over the thought of punishing Damon’s daughter, imagining her scantily clad and tied with leather, begging for mercy. Instinct tells me it wouldn’t be mere punishment.
She was hot for me earlier. I caught her by surprise, robbing her of a chance to protest. Her panties were wet beneath my touch, my groping hand savoring the wanton soft spot between her luscious thighs.
I didn’t expect to become aroused by my target, my enemy’s daughter, but my beasts collided inside me for a chance to come out and play. My dragon, itching to make her burn; my wolf longing to taste every inch of her sweet flesh, inside and out.
The question is, how much of Xavier Layne can she take? What’s her limit? I’m itching to test her and find out what makes her scream.
I hate the nagging feeling I have inside over her current whereabouts. I don’t like the idea of her in Volo’s dungeon. Not at all. I need to get this meeting over with and get down there promptly.
I think of her as I near my destination, what I could do to her, and how she would react. But I can’t go into this meeting with a raging hard-on—so it’s time to stop thinking about Lyndi Margot.
Not wanting to give away the location of the passage, I exit through the library, near my so-called office where I’m supposed to do business helping run Layne Industries. But it’s more of a private practice space where I work on music.
Besides, L.I. has a team of lawyers and PR agents keeping things in order. Father’s primary job is to pay them all so that when the politics of the Order comes calling, we don’t miss a beat. But today’s impromptu meeting with the Court is alarmingly unexpected.
I push through the double doors to find two women chatting on the green velvet sofa beneath the bay window. Jasmine excuses herself and leaves me to deal with our red-haired intruder/guest, who smiles too widely.
I go to the window, looking out. “An unexpected visit, Dark Fire, or should I call you Ember?
“Oh, Xav. Don’t be cross. Sit down, and…I’ll tell you something interesting.”
I turn around, studying her briefly.
I remember the same pencil-drawn red brows and dark, devious eyes. She’s wearing a long, black latex skirt and a white silk blouse, unbuttoned enough to reveal ample cleavage. She flips her flaming red hair aside flirtatiously. So, she’s brought a bargaining chip. Fucking politics. Or is it the politics of fucking?
“Don’t play games with me, Ember,” I sigh, impatient.
She feigns a pout, which sparks a memory of her kiss. She planted one on me at the solstice party on the dragon court’s ship, the Hellfire. She wanted more from me, but I left her wanting.
I was preoccupied with an issue regarding my cousin Slade’s missing girlfriend, Cherish Lorey. He suspected the court. From what I hear, he found the girl and made her his queen.
“I thought you liked games, Xavier. Aren’t the rumors true that you’ve got a kinky side?”
I walk over to her, sitting in the fireplace chair.
“What are you here for, Ember?”
“I’m here on behalf of the queen. She heard that Layne Rarities is going clean.”
Okay, who is the fucking spy living under my roof? Father isn’t interested in going clean. That’s something that I’ve been pushing.
“And?”
“Naturally, she doesn’t care either way. The court is pure in its anarchist values.”
“Spare me, Ember. Cut to the chase.”
“Fine, then. The queen wants to get her hands on your chem blood stash before it dries up.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What does the dragon queen want with dirty dragon blood? Besides, she can get that on the cheap elsewhere.”
“It’s a personal matter. And she doesn’t want cheap. She wants top-tier. Yours is the best.”
“How much does she want?”
“Well, quite simply, she wants it all.”
My brow cocks in surprised amusement. Maybe I would have expected this news if I were as good a politician as a musician.
“Buying up our wholesale supply sounds like a take-over. Enticing, but. I can’t allow that.”
“Why not?” she shrugs.
Bored, I sigh.
“While I might enjoy ridding myself of Father’s livelihood while he’s off gallivanting in Europe...I can’t afford the liability of leaving such a big fat fucking trail. Police are already sniffing around.”
She stands up, kicking off her heels before slowly stalking over.
“No one has to know,” she teases, dropping to her knees between my splayed legs.
My mouth cracks into a crooked smile.
“If I had a dime for every time a woman dropped before me, I’d be filthy rich.”
“Oh, but you are filthy rich, Xavier,” she says, grabbing my manhood. My mind flashes to Lyndi, wishing it was her pale, delicate hand around my cock.
“I don’t care about money, Ember.”
“Easy to say when you have so much,” she says, stroking my hardening erection. The more I think of Lyndi, the harder it gets, my jeans tightening over my growing bulge. “Perhaps.”
“Either way, the queen is willing to pay a competitive price.”
I smirk at her. “So, this is your intel? That the queen wants to take over Layne’s supply? The court must be hurting for cash.”
“I'm not privy to that information.”
“Right.” I glance at my watch. 12:17
I wonder if Jeb did his job and got Lyndi away from Volos. I want to be the only one to corrupt her.
Ember pulls down my zipper, looking up at me from under false lashes. “May I?”
I have mixed feelings about saying yes. I might let her suck me off as an apology for barging in here, but I have a feeling I’ll regret it.
“I have other business to attend to,” I say.
“It’s a deal. I’ll be quick,” she says, peeling back the fabric of my jeans with a gasp. “You’re huge,” she says before wrapping her mouth around the head of my cock.
“So I've been told.”
She teasingly stops. “One more thing, Xavier. The queen wants to chat with your dealer, Damon Margot.”
"That's very thorough of her. I bet there's already a room ready for him on the Hellfire."
It’s an interesting coincidence that this offer is coming while Father is away. But it's a known secret that numero uno is the weak link in the dynasty. The heir who cares more about his music than his family legacy. Such a tantalizing opportunity for the power-hungry dragon court that feigns anarchist values.
"I'll consider it," I say as she proceeds to lick and suck my dick like it’s her favorite candy.
I settle back into the chair, sighing as my mind drifts to Lyndi and how badly I want to corrupt her. She’s the one I want down on her knees before me.
I’ve decided. The court can have Damon, but the daughter is mine.
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