1. Killian Yael Di Gatti

Chapter one

Killian Yael Di Gatti

E rebus and I had an on-again-off again something. He liked my cock, and I appreciated getting laid. Mates were far and few, and I’d ended up without one. All the possibles were taken.

The fight was over, our biggest enemy was dead, and the other gods wanted to party. Ere wanted to fuck. Hadn’t seen him since I became the Guard to the King of The Prides, and it had been a long, dry month. We’d gone back to my room at Bonnie House, and he was kneeling on the bed as I slammed into his ass. He loved it rough.

Foreplay for us began in the snarky comments we volleyed back and forth in a room full of people who couldn’t hear us. Touches were next. He’d walk past me and slide his hand over my stomach. Tonight, he’d backed me into the coat closet and kissed the hell out of me right after the fight before we went our separate ways to make sure we had time to get naked. When everyone was occupied, he snatched me away.

It was harder to sneak off at Lighthouse because I was interrupted a lot. Moving into Bonnie House, where I had my own room, was more promising, but Ere hadn’t talked to me until tonight. Before that, we met in the apartment above Talley’s Garage, where he had pretended to live. My room didn’t have the odor of grease that had permeated every square inch of space. This was the first time in a long time we were in a clean room with a bed.

I roared with my release, and his forehead hit the mattress, his knees shaking. I eased out slowly and rolled him over, grinning because the god was still hard. He was taut as a bow when I sucked his cock into my mouth. Fingertips dug into my scalp, and his hips rocked in opposite time to my rhythm. His cock swelled, and I swallowed it all as he pulsed into me.

“Perfect,” he panted.

Sweat now matted my curls to my forehead, and Ere brushed them out of my eyes with his free hand. He offered me his wrist and I took it, drinking greedily.

“That’s it,” he murmured, prodding my cheek. I eased my fangs out when I had my fill, and he closed his own wounds. He’s drawn the line there, keeping us from being mated. I didn’t ask why. It didn’t matter. The gods had lovers, whom they fed and fed from. I just happened to be his— or one of them, at any rate. “Get dressed, we have to go back.”

“We?” I backed off the bed and headed into the bathroom to wash. We were both still half-dressed, at least. We’d lost our shirts and ties to the floor, and our coats were draped over a chair. I cleaned my cock and shoved it back into my underwear. I was still semi-erect. I usually had to cum twice to be fully sated, but we didn’t have time for that.

“We will finish, Killy,” he said as he helped me into my shirt. “Axl Donadieu is dead, and Fate discovered the body.” He helped me into my coat and held up my burgundy suede Pumas. “These look much better,” Ere said as he stood back to examine his handiwork.

I laughed. “Thought you didn’t want anyone to know about me.”

“Those that do are the only ones present.”

We counted spaces to the ballroom of Soul House and stopped.

“Killy, Darling?” Thesis waved a handkerchief at me. Fate stood with her, Enzo off to one side. Pax stood beside him, hands shoved into his pockets. Erebus leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, separating himself from the guilty parties.

One ashy effigy of Axl Donadieu still wore the tux, fingers clutching a flask.

“It was an accident, really,” Enzo said. “I just grazed him, and here we are.”

Why did they always involve me when they fucked something up?

“We do not!” Thesis gasped.

I raised my eyebrows. “Should we start with-”

Ere counted spaces to me and pressed his finger to my lips. “This is a minor thing, really. You can be King.”

I didn’t want to be King.

“You have to,” Thesis shrugged.

“Why?” I looked at Fate. If anyone knew the answer to that question, she did.

“Oh, very well,” Fate muttered. “The late King Kelly MacLaden was your brother. There. I said it. Your mother, Delilah, had an agreement with your father. One you and one him,” she waved her hand around as if the motion explained. It didn’t.

“My mother had a thing with-”

“Destin,” Thesis supplied.

“Destin MacLaden, grandfather of Cassandra?” I raised my eyebrows.

“She did. He needed an heir. Preferred men, you see,” Fate shrugged.

“That and he and Delilah were friends. She understood and wanted a child of her own,” Thesis nodded.

“Oh, good,” Pax sighed. “I’m out of options. You go be King, and everyone leave me out of it.”

Out of options? His son was a pile on the floor, and he was out of options. The gods didn’t care about any of us.

“That is not true!” Fate grumbled, and Ere squeezed my shoulder to keep me quiet.

“Do you have another suggestion then? A Shifter cannot run a Pride. Look how well that turned out,” Enzo grumbled.

Thesis nodded. “Oh, do be a good Killy and help us, will you?”

I rubbed my temples. “I want things.”

“Name them!” Thesis clapped her hands together. “A car? New clothes?”

“He’s not selfish,” Ere murmured.

“How is that selfish?” Thesis asked. “He does need a vehicle. No one counts spaces in Banthard.”

I held my hand up, and she got quiet. “I need money to run the Pride, a First, and a Guard because I cannot keep up with everyone and protect myself. I also need a place to live. MacLaden House is an accident waiting to happen.”

“And a car?” Thesis raised her eyebrows.

Ere patted her shoulder. “An SUV.”

“Ooh!” Thesis grinned. Ere pulled her out of the conversation to discuss roaring engines with pretty paint jobs.

Fate rubbed her temples. “We’ll take care of the house. I do love the idea of an accident.”

I landed on the graveled drive of the MacLaden Estate and almost fell because I hadn’t expected the change in venue. I hadn’t agreed to anything. The terms hadn’t been set. No blood, dammit! I tried to count spaces to my room at Bonnie House, and all my things landed in front of me instead. Thunder shook the ground, and rain fell in heavy, fat drops.

The gods hated me.

Lightning crackled across the sky, and the tent I had from camping, like humans, caught my attention. They’d been thorough in packing my things and kicking me out of my nice, dry bedroom. They had not given me time to set it up before the thunder rolled in; the lightning raised the hair on the nape of my neck and shot straight down onto MacLaden House. A person stood in the window above the entryway on the second floor before the whole house collapsed.

I raced towards the rubble and began tossing boards and heavy stones from one of the fireplaces out of the way, hoping not to find some broken body beneath.

“What are you doing?” yelled into my right ear.

“Looking for the person standing at the window!” I yelled over the rain.

“That was me.”

I paused then and turned my head, coming face to face with Axl Donadieu. “You’re dead!”

“I figured that out. You don’t want to live here.”

I swiped my forehead with my soaked sleeve, which didn’t help me at all.

“I’ve a house a mile from here,” Axl said.

“Is it sound?”

“Currently, it’s quiet.”

I glared, and he held his hands up. “Fine, it’s sound!”

“What were you doing in there, then?” I yelled.

“Getting the key?” he shrugged.

I poked him in the arm and frowned when my finger met solid muscle. “Show me where I’m goin’ then.”

He grinned and lifted his chin towards the large stone in front of me. “I tried to knock it out of the mess.”

There sat a key on a lightning bolt keychain. He reached for it, and his hand went through the stone.

Perfect.

He gave me a visual of the front porch, and I collected my bags, counting spaces there. It was dark in the storm, and I couldn’t see much of anything until I opened the glassed-in screen door and slid the key into the knob of the heavy oak beyond. The lights erupted from the ceiling, nearly blinding me, and it took a second to see.

Axl stood at the far end of a white hallway that was six feet wide—one hall table to my right, one archway beside it, and another arch across the way.

“Welcome home, Uncle.” Axl grinned.