Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Ursa

Maybe I am the coward Alaric names me. It’s hard to argue with it when I dress quickly and slip out of my penthouse. I haven’t snuck out of anywhere since I was a teenager, and it didn’t go well the single time I tried.

I stop short at the elevator and have to force myself to push the button. I haven’t thought about when I was a young for a long time. There’s no point. I was a happy child of a happy couple, and my parents supported and loved me—even if they didn’t understand my need for more. They were content in the little house that always made me feel like the walls were closing in. They enjoyed their normal jobs that didn’t require anything more of them than showing up for work Monday to Friday. They enjoyed their perfectly normal marriage.

At least they did until their unexpected deaths when I was still working for Poseidon. They never lived to see my exile, certainly never to see what I’ve become.

I try not to contemplate what they’d think of me now. Would they still love their precious daughter knowing I’ve taken a life? Many lives?

Impossible to say. Better not to ask.

I hate that I’m thinking about this now. I don’t falter. I haven’t since I set myself on this path, one that puts me at the top. It means getting my hands dirty from time to time, but I have to take those measures less now because I set a precedent early on. As much as I pretend it’s a happy side effect, it matters to me that the people in my territory are better off than they were under the last leader.

The elevator takes me down to the garage, and I waste no time sending Malone a text.

Me: Are you home?

Malone: Yes, why?

Me: I’ll be there in twenty.

I step out of the elevator and find Monica waiting for me. From the faint sheen of sweat on her dark brown skin, she ran here from the main security hub. She gives me a long look. “I know you weren’t about to leave without a driver or security or even talking to me.”

I’d been about to do exactly that. “I won’t need a driver for this.” And Monica is one of the few people close enough to me to call me on my shit, something I’m not too eager to experience. Not when I’m still so raw from the conversation with Alaric.

“Yeah, no. That Domme lady tone doesn’t work with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Get in the car. If I’m not satisfied you’re in your right mind by the end of the drive, we’re turning around and coming straight back here.”

Frustration bubbles up in my chest. “You do realize that you work for me, correct?”

Monica arches a brow. “You pay me, sure, but right now you look like you need a friend more than you need your head of security. Get in the car.”

There’s no point of arguing with her. She’s right, after all.

I’m running and knowing that still isn’t enough for my pride to kick in and send me back up to my penthouse. Let Alaric and Zurielle comfort each other if that’s what they need. Alaric can handle Zurielle’s needs while I’m gone.

He shouldn’t have to. I should be there to take care of things.

Instead I’m climbing into the back of my town car, about to have yet another uncomfortable conversation I would rather avoid. Monica doesn’t make me wait long. We’re barely out of the parking garage before she meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “You’re going to Malone’s.”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head. “She’s going to tell you the same thing I’m about to: you’re being ridiculous.”

I bite back a sigh. Monica’s never parsed her words with me, which is something I value in a head of security. The person in the position needs to be self-assured enough to speak up to ensure my safety and the safety of the people within my care. In the years that Monica’s held the position, we’ve become friends. Most of the time I enjoy her upfront attitude.

Most of the time, she’s not directing it at me like this, though.

“I’m not being ridiculous.”

“Oh, I see.” She nods slowly. “That’s why you’re running halfway across town to get away from those two up in your apartment. Because you’re not being ridiculous. Makes perfect sense to me.”

I glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s literally my job to have all the information required to keep you safe. I probably understand better than you do. Alaric’s not happy in the little box you put him in, and he’s rattling his cage, which is rattling you.” Her gaze softens the tiniest bit. “You didn’t really consider what it’d be like once he’s free, huh?”

“Alaric and I are fine,” I say stiffly.

“Ursa.” Now her tone has gone soft, too. “That man worships the ground you walk on. You should be firmly in the honeymoon stage right now, not fine.”

“I can’t trust him. Not completely. Not where Zurielle is concerned.” The words spring free despite my best efforts to keep them internal. “Letting him too close right now is a mistake.”

Monica’s silent for several blocks. “What if it isn’t, though? Have you thought about that?”

Yes. Of course I have. The temptation to dismantle my walls and lean on him is almost too much to bear. I’ve stood alone for so long, and I am so incredibly tired. Alaric might not understand the sheer amount I carry, but he wouldn’t think less of me for wanting to set it down for a little while. He even seems to crave that intimacy.

It scares the shit out of me.

I can’t say this to Monica, though. Not unless I want another lecture about how good Alaric could be for me if I’d just get out of my own way. She’s liked him from the moment she met him during his first overnight at my place. Hardly an impartial party. “I’ll give it some more thought.”

“As long as there’s some action involved with all that thinking.”

“There will be.” Just not yet. Not tonight.

We make the drive to Malone’s place in thirty minutes. Like most of the other territory leaders, she makes her home in one of the skyscrapers in her territory. Unlike the rest of us, she’s actually CEO of the perfectly aboveboard company that runs out of this place. That’s what makes Malone so formidable. She’s one of the most powerful people in Carver City on both sides of the law. But then, she’s an Amazon, so of course she is. Those women all like to have their fingers in both legal and illegal businesses.

Her head of security, Sara, meets me at the front door. They’re a large Maori non-binary person with long black hair braided away from their strong face. They nod at me and step aside. “She’s waiting for you. Monica can wait here.” They smile. “Good to see you again.”

“You, too.” Monica grins back. “Love what you’ve done with your hair.”

“Thanks.”

“You two behave yourselves while I’m up there.”

Sara snorts. “We always do. Poker?”

“Definitely.” Monica makes a shooing motion. “Go talk to Malone. Maybe you’ll listen to her advice.”

“I listen to yours.” I sound like I’m protesting, and the look Monica gives me says she notices. There’s nothing to do but stage a studied retreat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Malone and I come and go from each other’s residences often enough that our teams have become friendly—though that would go up in smoke in a second if we ever went to war. Private security can make a person’s life a living hell if they aren’t careful, no matter what their boss says. I know for a fact that Malone sends gifts to my main team on their birthdays, the crafty bitch. I’ve made a habit of doing the same for her people.

I find her in her living room. Her penthouse is much like the woman herself; stark and beautiful and more than a little cold. I frown at the pristine white couch she lounges on. “Is that new?”

“Rogue took exception to the last one.”

“You’re the only person I know who is willing to spend obscene amounts of money on furniture just for your cat to demolish it.”

“Everyone needs a hobby.”

I glance around the room. “Where is the little demon?”

“He’s around. I’m sure he’ll make his presence known at some point.” She motions an elegant hand to the couch. “Sit. You look frazzled.”

“I look nothing of the sort.” I sit despite my protest. Malone is dressed in a variation of her usual outfit, black slacks and a deep red blouse. It’s a little more professional and a little less sexy than what she normally wears to the Underworld. She must have been working when I called. “I interrupted your day.”

“It’s nothing.” She waves that away. “I was done with my meetings for the day. You saved me from a few hours of going over tedious reports.”

Tedious reports she’ll no doubt circle right back to the second I leave. I sigh. I should know better than to run to Malone, just like I should know better than to try to get around Monica to do it. I never show up like this, so of course she dropped everything in response. If I were wiser, I’d keep my own counsel, but I can’t help the messy feelings bubbling up inside me. “You’ve never lost your mind over a sub.”

She pauses, green eyes narrowed. “I know you didn’t come here to rib me about Aurora. I hardly call my reluctance to play with her the same thing as losing my mind.”

“That’s not what I meant. If I wanted to give you shit about her, I’m more than capable of doing it over the phone.” I stifle the urge to do exactly that. Malone is so icy with most people that it’s jaw-dropping to see someone get under her skin. Especially Aurora, who’s one of the sweetest and most unassuming subs in the Underworld. Oh, she’s gained some teeth and claws since taking over as Megaera’s second-in-command, but she’s still a nice girl. “What are you going to do about her?”

“Ursa.” Malone glares. “The only time you work this hard not to talk about something is if it’s really bothering you. What’s going on? Is it Alaric?” She tenses. “Shall I handle it?”

“Darling, I’m more than capable of handling my own problems.”

“And yet you’re here, talking to me instead of doing exactly that.”

She has me there and we both know it. I settle back against the couch with a sigh. “I have done unforgivable things to grasp and maintain power. I’ve had to work harder and be more vicious when I’m challenged than a white man would in my position. You understand that.”

“Yes,” Malone says slowly. “I fail to see what that has to do with anything. You haven’t gone and developed a conscience on me, have you?”

“No, of course not.” Except when I think of a conscience, it’s Zurielle’s face that appears in my mind. No matter what Alaric thinks, she’s got a moral center that we would damage if we tried to keep it. Trying to force the three of us to fit in a permanent way will only result in ruin. Why can’t he see that?

Why can’t he stop pushing until I’m ready to let him in?

“Ursa.” Malone’s tone goes as gentle as she’s capable of. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Alaric wants to keep Zurielle.”

“He can fuck off, then.” Malone folds her hands on her knee. “He’s a wonderful submissive, but he’s a fuck boy and I’ve never understood what you saw in him that convinced you to go so far as dating him.”

I roll my eyes, a reluctant smile pulling at the edges of my lips. “Really, darling, don’t hold back on my account.” No one is holding back on my account today.

“Yes, yes, you have feelings for him.” She shakes her head as if she can’t understand it. One day Malone will be knocked fully off balance by someone, and I’ll enjoy every moment of watching it happen.

“He doesn’t want to leave me for her.” Things would be simpler if that were the case. He was never truly mine, not in full. Easier to lose him before I really had him… Or that’s what I try to tell myself. It doesn’t feel like the truth. “He wants us to keep her.”

“Oh.” Malone pauses. “So keep her.”

“Not you, too.” I slump back on the couch. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s exactly that simple.” She’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before. “You have never had a problem taking what you want, Ursa. Even the girl; you had a plan to acquire her and so you did. I don’t understand why this is bothering you.”

I don’t entirely understand it, either. What do I care if staying with me damages Zurielle’s innocence? The world isn’t kind to the innocent. Only the strong survive, and she’d survive longer with me than without.

Except…

I sigh. “I care about her. I don’t want her to be damaged by being with me.”

Of all the responses, I don’t expect Malone to burst out laughing. She starts to speak and then erupts into laughter again, until she’s bent over and clutching her stomach.

It makes me want to shove her right off the couch. “I don’t see what’s so funny, you bitch.”

“You are so funny.” She gasps in a breath and manages to reclaim her normal icy calm…mostly. “Oh, gods, you are too much. I never thought I’d see the day where you get so twisted up over some little thing. Her pussy must be downright magical. You’ve only had her for two days.”

“Malone, be serious.”

“I am being serious.” She carefully wipes at the edges of her eyes with her black-tipped nails. “I’m sorry. You surprised me.”

“You don’t have to enjoy it so much.” I sound grumpy and out of sorts, nothing like my normal calculated tone of amusement, but my careful mask has fractured in the last twenty-four hours and I can’t quite manage to reclaim it despite my best efforts. “She’s just so good.”

“Is she?”

“Malone.”

“Yes, yes, apologies again.” She doesn’t sound any sorrier this time than she did earlier. “Ursa, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” I protest too quickly, making a liar of myself.

“Are you sure? Because you’re sitting in my living room instead of having a conversation with your two submissives.”

How can I explain it to her in a way that makes sense when I can barely make sense of it myself? “In all the years I’ve been working my way toward power, toward this position of holding an entire territory, the one line I haven’t crossed is harming an innocent. The single line, Malone. If I keep her, I’ll harm her by virtue of the life I live.”

Malone studies me for a long time. “She auctioned off her virginity and lost her entire life back in Olympus in the process. Even I know that Triton is horribly backwards about that sort of thing. Explain to me how that isn’t harm?”

“She chose it.” It sounds weak when I say it, but it’s the only defense I have.

“And if she chooses to stay?”

I open my mouth, but it’s too neat a trap. “It’s different.”

“It’s really not.” Malone doesn’t touch me—that’s not her way—but she gives me a sympathetic look. “So tell me again that you’re not scared.”

“You’re twisting my words, darling. It’s not that simple and you know it. We can’t do what we want for the sake of doing what we want, especially when it comes to having a partner.” It’s a double standard for the ages. The men who run territories can take partners and no one blinks, no one thinks that they’re no longer in charge. But a woman does it? Things become infinitely more complicated. A Black woman? I already have to be ten times better than anyone else just to be taken seriously. It’s exhausting, and I’m so incredibly tired.

I’ve convinced myself it’s worth it. I have the power I always dreamed of. I’m at the top of the hierarchy. Above the corrupt politicians who pretend they have any say in the things that truly matter. Above the laws that have been wielded against the people who can defend themselves the least. The only law that matters is mine.

“Then why aren’t you worried about it with Alaric?”

I am. I push to my feet. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” That, I believe, no matter how fledgling this relationship is in some ways. We’ve been fucking for years, but the intimacy is still developing in other areas. All that said, I do know him. Alaric wants to be kept. He’s been fighting and clawing his way through the world since he was born. He wants to let someone else take the lead, and he’s more than happy to kneel at my feet. “He has no interest in the rest of it. He just wants me.” All of me. I’ll give him everything. I will. I’m just…afraid.

“What’s to say this girl doesn’t just want you, too? Really, Ursa, you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. Even if you decide to marry one of them, you’re the one running the territory and everyone knows it.”

She makes it all sound so reasonable, which makes me feel dramatic and ridiculous. “You know, I came here for a friendly chat where you confirm that I’m making the right choice, not for you to systematically pick apart my argument.”

“Sometimes friends should play support, sometimes they should shine a light on hard truths.” She re-crosses her legs. “I support whatever you choose to do, of course. I simply think it’s silly for you not to take what you obviously want because of some outdated sense of right and wrong.” Malone smiles, cold as a winter day. “Might makes right, Ursa. And you have all the might in both your territory and these relationships. If you want the little princess, then keep her until you’re tired of her.”

I look at my friend for a long time. I’ve mostly held my tongue about her strange dancing around Aurora, but if we’re dishing out hard truths, then there’s no reason for me not to participate. And I’m petty enough to want her to feel a sliver of the discomfort that I currently do. “You should live by your own advice, darling. If you want Aurora, take her. A little time with her on her knees for you might put you in a better mood.”

Malone narrows her eyes. “If I decide I want Aurora again, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. Now, get back to your submissives so I can get back to my reports.”

“Your pep talk skills need work.”

“Do they? Because you look steadier on your feet than when you walked through my door.”

Damn her, but she’s right. I shake my head, a true smile pulling at my lips. Our brand of comfort might not work for everyone, but it works for us. “Come to the Underworld tonight and have a drink with me.”

Her smile warms a few degrees. “I’ll see you there.”

Monica manages to hold her peace until we’re in the car again. “Are we going home or do you have more procrastinating to do?”

“Gods save me from supportive friends.” I press my fingers to my temples. I could come up with half a dozen errands that need running, but the truth is that both Monica and Malone are right. I won’t figure this out by avoiding it. “No, take us home.”

“Yes, boss.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“You love it.” She grins at me in the rearview mirror. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“That and the fact you’re the best head of security in Carver City.”

“And the best shot.”

I smile. “And the best friend. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me, Ms. Sea Witch. You’ll make me ruin my makeup.”

We fall into an easy conversation the rest of the way back to my building. Monica has instituted a few personnel changes. She likes to rotate people through various positions to keep them from getting complacent or worse—bored. So far the process is working out wonderfully.

All the while I’m thinking about what my friends have said. And the fact that every one of my arguments has holes large enough to drive a semi through. It all boils down to one question—what’s truly stopping me from keeping Zurielle and letting Alaric in?

I walk into my penthouse and pause, listening. A sliver of unease courses through me when all I hear is silence. Surely Alaric didn’t take me at my word and run with Zurielle? The thought has me moving quickly to the spare bedroom, and I stop short in the doorway.

They’re on the bed together.

Sleeping.

Zurielle is on her side, her legs drawn up into fetal position as if she can make her already small body smaller. Alaric is at her back, a careful six inches between them, but there’s no missing the way he curls his body around hers protectively.

I watch them for a long moment, measuring the rise and fall of their chests, the way my chest feels just from observing the tableau they create. I have never once had a problem taking what I want up this point. Why am I so hesitant to take Zurielle in a permanent way?

I want Zurielle. That much is true. I take a deep breath and turn to walk down the hall and into my bedroom. I have been so incredibly careful to keep everyone at a distance, and these two are like a whirlpool pulling me in, a force I can no longer fight. I demand vulnerability and trust from my submissives—from Alaric and Zurielle—but maybe it’s time I gave a little trust in return. The thought has my chest tightening in response, but I carefully breathe through it. I can do this. It might feel like the hardest thing I’ve ever tried, but rationally I know it’s not true. If this blows up in my face, it’s only my heart that will bear the pain. No matter what else is true, neither Alaric nor Zurielle want me dead.

No one has ever died of a broken heart.

Surely I won’t be the first.