Chapter Two

Riot

E yes like burnt honey… fuck. Every time I go to sleep I dream of her. And when I wake, her essence lingers on my soul like an unholy stain. It takes every ounce of strength I have not to charge back to Wickford Hollow and capture her. Put her in a pretty cage so I can take her out and play with her whenever I want.

I don't even know her name… She's just my firecracker. Mine . But I can't leave Raven's Gate again. I'm weak when I'm away. So, I can only dream about her. I imagine her full lips wrapped around my cock as I stroke myself. The rose-scented bathwater splashes onto the floor as I grapple with my massive erection.

I don't even notice the bathroom door open. "There are plenty of girls waiting to fuck you, Riot. My cousin is one of them. Let me call her for you. Forget about the Wickford Hollow slut."

I glare at my friend with contempt. With white-blond hair and blue-green eyes, he truly resembles a Greek god. All of the Thorns do. "I prefer self-inflicted torture, Atlas," I grumble back.

He perches on the edge of the tub and watches me continue to rub one out. "Such a fucking masochist."

The pressure builds in my shaft as I throw my head back against the porcelain. "Fuck…" I rub my thumb over the tip of my cock and trace the edges of my latest sigil. A mark of virility.

Atlas reaches in and touches it as well. I shiver as the heat from his finger sends a tingle to my core. "It's healed nicely." He drags his fingers up and down my shaft, and I release a moan.

"You'll get yours soon enough," I murmur.

"Mmm… how about now?" He licks his lips and withdraws his hand.

I glare at him again. "Always so impatient. Take off your pants."

Atlas wastes no time taking off his black T-shirt and jeans. He smirks as he pulls a tiny vial of green liquid out from one of the pockets and takes a small swig. I watch as his veins turn from blue to green as the poison travels through him. His muscles clench and then relax.

I finish jerking myself off—moaning as my cum shoots out in thick white ropes. It paints the side of the tub before the water rinses it away. It's the release I need, but it's not as satisfying without my firecracker watching. I sigh and stand up as Atlas leans back against the red velvet sitting chair. He spreads his legs wide, offering his flesh to me.

I open a drawer and pull out my ritual box. The lid pops open with a snap of my fingers. My knife, the blade of ravens , gleams back at me, all shiny black and silver. I kneel down between his legs and get a firm grip on his cock. "Do you accept this mark?"

Atlas takes another swig of the green poison. Swirls of light dance in his eyes. "I do."

I press the tip of the blade to his abdomen. "In absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt." In the absence of light, darkness prevails .

We pay with our blood. With our flesh. We make these sacrifices for our souls. For our lives. I begin to carve the rune into his flesh. He doesn't flinch but instead moans as his blood trickles down his shaft. I smear it in deeper, rubbing it in circles around the tip of his cock.

His eyes blaze with power as I finish carving the last line. A soft whimper escapes from his throat. "Mors tua, vita mea." Your death, my life.

I coat his entire cock with his own blood as tears spill from his eyes. The sigil burns bright, glowing red against his creamy alabaster skin.

Valentin comes through the door and rests his hands on Atlas's shoulders. He places a soft kiss on his cheek. "Mors vincit omnia." Death always wins .

Atlas throws his head back against the chair and releases a deep guttural moan. His silky white cum leaks out onto my fingers. I smear it into the blood and over his freshly carved sigil. " For the raven ," I breathe.

"For the raven," they both whisper back.

It should be the only time I don't long for my firecracker. When we are deep in ritual. But in fact, this is when I hunger for her more. I ache for it. To mark her with my power.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Valentin grumbles.

I watch the blood run down the drain as I wash my hands, admiring the way it swirls against the porcelain, changing from dark red to pink. "No," I lie. I slowly glance up at myself in the mirror, wondering how much longer I can go without her. I run a hand through my black hair, tousling it between my scarred fingers. So many marks… I will soon run out of skin.

Atlas stands behind me, our eyes connecting in the mirror. "Tell us again."

I'd recounted the brief exchange to my two best friends a dozen times since Halloween. "I was bored and there was a party in Wickford Hollow. So I went."

Valentin hissed. "I still can't believe you went there by yourself. What if one of the Blackwells had been there?"

"Relax," I snapped. "I'm more than fucking capable of handling them on my own. Besides, there aren't any Blackwells in Wickford Hollow. I wore my ski mask. No one knew who the fuck I was."

Atlas fingers his freshly carved scar, dabbing at the blood that stains the skin around it. "And the firecracker?"

I sigh. Every time I tell them about her they both get hard as fuck. And they haven't even seen her like I have. "I stalked her through the house, watching the way her throat bobbed every time she took a drink. The way her sweat trickled down in between her tits. I watched as those bastards herded her into the bathroom…" I grip the edge of the counter, my heart racing from the memory. Atlas and Valentin each place a hand on my shoulder.

"Go on," Atlas murmurs.

"She was half-naked and covered in their cum." I inhale a deep breath as I remember the moment I looked into her jeweled eyes—honey-gold like she had two pieces of citrine in her sockets. "She wouldn't tell me her name. I didn't give her mine. I zipped up her bustier and it took every ounce of strength I had not to drag her back here with me that night…" I still wake up in a cold sweat and for a split-second think I see her dark brown hair splayed on the pillow next to me.

Valentin nods, his brown eyes seething with lust and darkness. "Tell us again how you killed them."

I white-knuckle the counter as a tiny drop of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. She was mine even before I saw her. And no one touches what's mine . Fuck, I enjoyed gutting them from neck to scrotum. " Enough . I'm done talking about this. Our little firecracker is better off far away from us…" Wherever that may be .

Atlas groans. "We need fresh meat to play with. I want to fuck something innocent tonight."

"They'll be plenty of pussy at the party later. Besides, I already think I found a shiny new toy to torture." Valentin's lips curl into a devious smirk. That's about the closest thing to a smile that will ever grace his flawless face. Even when he laughs, it's cruel and wicked, and it never reflects in his eyes.

I raise an eyebrow as I finish dressing. "Freshman?"

He nods. "She's got a feisty fucking mouth on her too."

Atlas's eyes light up. "Mmm, I love it when they bite back."

But they rarely do. All the pretty girls open their legs for us the minute we walk into a room. We take what we want and feed the rest of the school our scraps. It has been getting tiresome and boring, but it amplifies our power. It solidifies our place at Tenebrose—at the top of the fucking food chain. We are Nocturnus—an ancient and secret order that has been passed down through generations. Everyone fears us and desires us at the same time. But it isn't enough. I crave more. All three of us do.