Chapter 8

Joy. Pure, effortless. It shines brightly, twisting my entire sight into glittery objects.

We're walking a narrow corridor, through which Zin guides us, with Enzo at our backs. Portraits of important looking people from the past leave the walls, come flying to me in a creepy salute, and I reach out my hand in an attempt to grab hold of them, chuckling when I'm too slow and watch them flutter away, out of reach. Everything is glowing and glittery, and it's so pretty. To my side, chairs screech forward by themselves, wanting to keep up with our little group. They can't keep up. Nope, nooo…

"Too slow," I hear myself mutter, then giggle at the echoing sound in my head. Arsène turns to face me, a slow, crooked smile on his face. His eyes seem so large, so dark, so beautifully shaped. He looks like an elf. And his arm… it's still wrapped around my waist. "Too warm." My hand touches down to his. "But your fingers feel good."

He pinches my chin and I tip back my head, chortling. As far as my eyes can see, I see glitter. Oh, his arm is so nice against my nape. So strong. "It's because you're wearing all these clothes, papillon," he muses, and my stomach flutters deliciously.

"All these…" I giggle once more. "Clothes. That's a good one."

"We'll get rid of them in a moment, pretty boy. Patience, we're nearly there."

Sounds float my way when we reach an open door, filling my ears with a cacophony of voices and instruments. A piano, for sure. But there's also some sort of drum that resonates effortlessly through the buzzing in my ear. I blink but my eyes are dry, hesitating for the first time.

"Where are we?" I ask. I don't think I've ever been here before.

"The playfield of the Alpha Fraternarii, butterfly. Regardless of what they might tell you about the South Wing being reserved only for personnel, this is where the real fun takes place."

"This is where I had my meeting and signed my NDA," I remember.

"Exactly."

Reaching the threshold, Arsène stops me with a hand on my shoulder. He shows me his palm, on which the white pill sits, shoots me a wink, then tosses it back and into his mouth.

"Let's go crazy together." When he sees me frowning, he adds, "Don't worry. We make those pills ourselves. I know exactly what's in them, and they're not strong. They're just meant to take off the edge a bit." He leans over me and I can't stop myself from inhaling his skin, now adorned with a layer of sparkles, his scent, that combination of wickedness and ginger. It's addictive.

I gasp when he presses his hand on my clothed ass, right where the plug sits. The sense of ownership that washes over me brings a new whiff of desire that tickles my balls and makes my cock slowly fill.

"When we get in there, you'll get introduced to our brothers by the Elder," he explains. "I will then take off our masks." Lifting his other hand to my face, he cups my chin and dips his mouth so we're practically touching. His eyes are blown, and his stare is intense, hungry. "I will take everything you'll give me, Robin. Your snarls and thorns, your awkwardness and assertiveness. Your shyness and soft, hesitant approach. And these walls you have to keep you safe inside and everyone else out? I'll tear those walls down and capture you. You won't need them anymore because I'll keep you safe."

I blink. My initial reaction is to shove him away, both physically and mentally, but both my mind and body are tired of fighting him. My stupid heart wants to believe that his words could be true, that this could perhaps be the start of something new. Something I have secretly craved for for so long.

"This is what's going to happen." Arsène grabs hold of something that has been placed against the wall. When I give it a good look, it's like the rope spins and twists into his hands. Still, I immediately recognize what it is.

"No," I blurt. It's the copper thread he used for the spiderweb in the forest.

Arsène smirks. "Yes. Right there, at the altar."

"Altar?" My eyes dart from the rope to the open space waiting for us. I wince when I catch sight of the number of cloaked guys inside the dungeon. Some of them are standing in circles, talking and laughing, others are seated. All are waiting, that much is clear. For us to make our way inside.

You are here for our entertainment, and entertained we shall be.

"Could this all be a joke?" I wonder out loud. My mind is toying with me.

Arsène frowns, his arm still wrapped around me. "A joke?"

What if I'm the joke? What if my father and brothers are behind this?

"You are so beautiful." I look up at Arsène. Those curvy, plush lips, his strong, square facial features. He tucks the hood a little further over his head, covering up his features, but I know what's underneath there. I'd recognize those dark, sleek strands anywhere. "So, so beautiful," I hear myself murmur. He smirks at me knowingly, hand cupping my hardening cock. "You're out of it, papillon. And hot for me once more." He squeezes my shoulder, gesturing for me to enter the room. "Allez."

"No, wait." I freeze, and Enzo bumps into me with an apology. Zin turns around, eyeing us with a frown. "From where I sit, I look right at you in class," I rush. He's right, I am out of it, my brain can't catch up. And then the words come tumbling out of my mind. "Do they—" Arsène nods. I clear my throat. Zin opens his mouth to speak, but Arsène raises his hands, silencing him at once. My hands turn to fists, putting pressure in my palms to keep my mind from going crazy. Suddenly I'm feeling so hot, my body scorching with need.

"Do they know it's me?" I blab, then look away as I let out a shuddering breath.

No one speaks.

"These guys here. Do they know it's me?" I finally repeat, slowly looking back at Arsène. "Are they classmates?" I dare a glance at the room. To the now silent room. Fuck, these guys are intimidating. All of them. But… school mates? Brothers? "I should never have come here tonight, should never have left the art academy for Saint-Laurent." I gesture around me, then huff out a choked chortle. "So it is a joke after all." My chest clenches when I ask him, "Is this why you chose me?"

To make fun of me.

Fuck, that thought hurts. I wince.

His arm has dropped from my shoulder and has taken the warmth with him. I shiver, cold creeping in. At least it helps sober my mind, or at least I hope it does.

"You know why I chose you," Arsène continues. He sounds annoyed, matter of factly. Slowly, I nod. It's not enough. "Say it," he hisses. "I want you to hear yourself admitting it to your stubborn self."

I take in a long breath, feeling my shoulders deflate. "Because you like me."

"Because you fascinate me, butterfly," he corrects. "And now you're finally doing it." His gaze caresses mine with something soft, framed by the possessiveness I have come to recognize over the past hours. "You're finally showing me what really frightens you. You're finally fluttering your wings, testing freedom."

I frown, irritation boiling up. "You can't just throw around these cryptical words, you know? I'm a nobody, Arsène. If my dad—"

"Fuck him, papillon," he growls. "Fuck all of them who've made you believe you're not good enough."

"You can't say that," I snarl. "You don't know me."

"I told you this, pretty boy. We have our entire lives to discover each other. But that—" He points his hand to the open room. Every single one of the cloaked men inside is openly staring at us, the only sound coming from the piano. "That has nothing to do with your family, and 100% with mine. I wanted you. I chased you down."

"You drugged me," I huff.

"You bet your ass I did, and I'll do it again, over and over again if that's what it takes to make you feel good. I want to discover every single spot that covers your body and soul. Want my spiders to crawl all over your skin." I flinch at the sudden touch on my jacket. It's only his fingers. It's enough to grow warm again, to search for more of him, to enjoy the way my dick quivers inside my pants, hardening further with every breath I take.

"Right now, we'll welcome you as a brother to the Alpha Fraternarii. You wouldn't be the first passive brother in our ranks if you prefer focusing your time on your studies and your art."

"My art?" I feel my eyes widen and my heart swelling. Arsène takes a step forward, finally putting both hands on my exposed cheeks, cupping them gently as he lets out a soft smile.

"My men are filling my rooms with your stuff as we speak. The days of you living in that dorm on your own are over. From now on, you will live with me."

"What?"

"Don't worry, papillon. I'll make sure they add enough blank canvases for you to create new work. You can paint and relax as much as you like. Keep my little friends company."

"Your little friends?"

Arsène tips his head back and chortles. "You'll see soon enough."

"Is this all still part of the game?" I whisper.

Scrunching up his nose, Arsène clasps a hand around my shoulder and pulls me close. I exhale a ragged breath, his touch grounding my glittery-filled view. I need him close to me.

"I don't know if I'd call a future altering moment, a game. Do you?" He flicks his tongue out and laps at my ear, chuckling when I flinch. Ugh, what's it with this guy and ears? "Besides, what's the point in objecting?" He hums. "I've got you now, and I don't intend to let you go. And the rest? We'll figure it out as we go."

"But that's not how this goes."

"No? Why do you always need to understand everything with your brain? It's not like it's of any use tonight." A toothy grin. "It just is, papillon. It just is."

Enzo clears his throat discreetly. "Sir, we really have to move forward now. They are waiting, and listening," he adds, sounding uncomfortable.

Arsène doesn't stop staring at me, waiting. I give him a slight nod, then clear my throat. Fuck me, I'm nervous. Hallucinating tranquillizer or not.

He smiles, then looks at the crowd, tips his chin in a greeting, before turning back to me. One of his hands snakes behind my neck and he yanks on my hair while dragging his teeth over my exposed neck. Forcefully. I let out a yelp, taken by surprise and the sting, eyes finally tearing after hours of dryness as I take in the beautifully decorated ceiling. He lets out a raspy chuckle against my skin when the crowd cheers.

"Arsène," I whine.

"Hmm?" He nips his way up, tipping my head even further back by my hair, enjoying my wheezing begs to stop. He doesn't. Instead, he keeps me down, only slowly dipping his own chin in search of my face. Then he licks my lips. Sounds of approval fill the dungeon room and our breaths catch the moment his mouth seals mine. He stays like this, keeping me in this painful, excruciating hold in a clear show of power. No kiss, no nothing. This is what he needs. This command, knowing that he's got me in his grip. What's more disturbing, is that I seem to need that too.

"Trust me." He murmurs against my lips.

Trust him. Fear clambers up, but before I can protect myself, he shushes against my lips. "Easy, papillon. I'm not going to hurt you. But I am going to bring you inside that room and wrap you up on the altar. Then I'm going to prepare you really nice with that plug and with my tongue, and then fuck you until you beg me for release. How does that sound?"

My breath stutters, cock plump and throbbing against his. He knows it, knows that I'm hard for him. But this time there's no mocking. This time, no matter how ludicrous it sounds, it's like he's waiting for me to agree. When I finally nod, he hums in approval and presses a kiss to my mouth and releases his hold, freeing the sting on my scalp.

And no matter what my brain tells me, my heart wants it too much. I want to go home. I want to belong to Arsène. I want Arsène to be home.