2. Aurelia

Chapter 2

Aurelia

I 'd never considered myself capable of killing someone. I am a healer. That is my calling—it has been for many years.

But now violence thrums in my blood like a song of war. It's heady and strong. Alluring. I killed Fredrick Ulman tonight, and the echo of that bloody melody still remains.

I should feel sick to my stomach that I've taken a life. Destroyed something precious.

And yet it feels right. I've saved one of my mates and eliminated a threat to his life. You'll never fight alone , I'd said to Lyle. And I'd meant it in the core of my being. And as I stand in Sabrina's dorm room, a girl who has become my family, I realise I would do it again. That I want to spill blood and tear flesh and break bones to save her.

The animal part of me also knows a predator is studying me closely.

Not only a predator, but a mate.

This is the first time Scythe has asked anything of me. Sure, he likes giving me little commands, but he's never demanded anything.

Given me an ultimatum.

I should hate him for it. I should want to tell him to go fuck himself and his shark for being so cruel as to hold my friend's kidnapping over me like this.

Instead, the primal part of me that became a saltwater crocodile and crushed the skull of Fredrick Ulman cocks her head and considers our shark carefully.

In the lines of his powerful body, in the set of his hard, square jaw and the cold cruelty in his ice chip eyes, I see he wants control over me. I see this is a last, desperate effort from a dangerous mate who could become even more dangerous given the chance.

But I also see the way this could be used against me. I will be inhibited by his… rules.

So I level him an even look right in his tundra eyes, because there is more than one predator in the room now. "And what kind of rules do you demand your beasts follow?"

Scythe answers me coolly. "I enforce the rules of the jungle."

I shouldn't be surprised. It's barbaric and dangerous. It's the way of the criminal underworld of beasts, and I'd been exposed to it at my father's knee.

It had been a long time ago, but there is really only one rule to remember—complete submission to the most powerful. Within that one rule is everything you need to run a successful criminal organisation: ultimate loyalty, established hierarchy, subordinates who reward and punish each other.

This is the world that Scythe is asking me to enter. His eyes bore into my soul, intimidating and oh so confident.

It is that confidence I need to get Sabrina back.

But how similar is Scythe's world to the way my father runs his court? I will be bound to him now, to obey his every word.

Sabrina, or freedom? Which do I want more?

A teensy, tiny part of me is excited at this offer and the challenge of it.

"Fine," I say in a clear voice. "For Sabrina, I'll do it."

Something like pleasure flares in his eyes, turning ice into cold fire.

The command just rolls off his tongue. "Come here."

Swallowing down the residual fear, I oblige him and take a few steps forward on my bare feet.

"Kneel."

I swallow before obeying. This position is completely unfair because his groin is right in front of me. This close, his sharp, powerful scent reaches my nose, and I have to force myself to look up at him and our mating mark, scoring his pale skin with celestial light. To swear to a beast is to submit to him. Henry hides on my left shoulder, so I raise my arms up to my mating mark side to sweep my hair off my neck and bare it in the universal sign of ultimate submission. Scythe is one of the few beasts in the world I would do this for. I hope he knows that.

Without taking his eyes off mine, Scythe reaches into his pocket and takes out his silver cigarette case. He opens it.

On one side is the expected neat row of hand-rolled cigarettes, animalia-strength blue ganja, by the smell of them. But on the other side is something wholly unexpected. A bone-white shark's tooth, triangular and serrated.

I want to ask if it's his, but I bite my tongue because now, his movements bear the cadence of a ritual. Like something sacred is about to occur. I glance back up at him and find Scythe has gone still as he stares at the tooth.

The temperature of the room plummets and a cold caress shudders down my spine. The tiny hairs all over my body stand on end.

Any of those things should have shaken me, but it's what he does next that actually rattles my bones.

He extends his hand towards me.

I stare at it for a moment. His broad palm, one of the few places on his body that is not possessively marked with ink. The regina in me knows this is rare. Knows that Scythe does not like to be touched. Actively does not touch others.

With time moving like sludge around me, I take a breath, raise my own hand, and with infinite slowness, place it in his, palm up.

My body responds immediately.

Tingles shoot up from the point of contact, right up my arm and through my body. From the sharp inhale Scythe takes, he feels something too.

Uncharacteristically, he clears his throat. "Repeat after me. I, Aurelia Boneweaver, swear loyalty to Scythe Kharkorous."

Goddess, I'm really doing this.

For Sabrina . I repeat the words carefully.

"I swear to obey his commands until Sabrina Panthera is returned safely to me. I swear it by my blood, or so death take me."

A chill runs down my spine as I say it, and I quickly add on the end, "As long as you don't betray me to my father."

Scythe's lips twitch before he presses the tip of the shark tooth to my index finger.

I suppress a hiss at the sting as a droplet of blood wells up.

Scythe seems to go still and blinks at the crimson bead. Then blinks again. Before I can compute what's happening, he suddenly brings my finger to his mouth.

And licks my blood off it.

His tongue is hot against my finger. My head spins, my heart pounds, my senses come alive. I can only stare at him in shock as he leans back in the chair, closing his eyes as if he's tasted the most delicious thing on the planet. Somehow, I don't think this is part of the ritual. This is not like a serpent blood contract either, the same magic isn't there. No, I surmise that this ritual is wholly…Scythe.

I whisper his name.

His eyes snap open. Abruptly, he drops my hand and rises from the chair, saying with finality, "Good girl."

Wait, are we not going to talk about what just?—

"But you failed that test, Aurelia."

My brows shoot up as he towers over me. "What? How!"

"You didn't try to negotiate."

"But you said?—"

"It doesn't matter what a beast says. It's what he does that matters."

Fuck. I'd failed his test. A sudden wave of exhaustion threatens to drown me. But there's still so much to think about.

"So what now? Are you going to contact my dad?—"

He shakes his head. "That man is not your father. He's not a husband. He's not even a mate." Before I can ponder what he means, he quickly continues. "Let me teach you something about my world, Aurelia. Your father didn't do this. He would never implicate himself directly. He's used an intermediary. Who do you think he would use? To take a feline captive?"

I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't think of this. My father knows no bounds to his cunning, of course he'd do everything in his power to avoid being associated with this.

But a feline captive? With telekinesis?

My heart sinks. My voice is hoarse as I whisper, "The Clawsons." I shake my head. "But to kidnap a student from the academy is illegal. There's a truce here, for fuck's sake! The council?—"

"The crime lords deal with our own business. We do not involve the council. You should know that."

Shit. Yes, I should. "Right. So then what?"

"Leave it with me."

I stare at him blankly. He stares right back. I suddenly realise I've been on my knees before his towering form for the last minute. Hastily, I get up. "What about Savage? We need to do something about him too."

The corner of his mouth twitches—actually twitches like he's about to smirk. "I'm sure my little brother is having the time of his life."