Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

“What type of man tries to take another man’s family when he can’t even save his own?” Tears leak from his eyes, his throat raw. “I rushed out of there, but it was too late. When I knew you were both okay, I went to their house. I knew a man capable of such evil wouldn’t think twice about turning on his own. Marcia was already gone. He tried to take Freya too.”

“The scar,” Remi murmurs.

Our eyes travel to her neck, the thin white line there.

“I promised you boys I would kill every last one of that family. They were all corrupt, evil, scum.”

“But you couldn’t kill him.”

Turning to his daughter, he says gruffly, “I wish I had now. Ended it then.”

“So, what happens now?” Remi asks.

Silence lingers, our new reality expanding, settling within us.

“We get rid of the dead bodies in our home. We fix Freya up. The rest will be up to you three. I won’t lie and tell you I’m okay with whatever has happened between you, but it’s my secrets, my mistakes, that led us here.”

“Maybe we were always headed here,” I state. We’re soul mates. Finding each other was inevitable. She’s been here this whole time, where she belongs.

“Just so we’re clear,” Remi gets to his feet, rubbing the creases from his jeans, “I haven’t been doing anything that’s against the law?”

“Well, we do have a dead guy in the corridor.” I jab a thumb over my shoulder.

“And one in the pool,” our father adds.

“Fair point.” Remi jerks his head.

A soft groan croaks from Freya’s lips, gaining all of our attention. We surround her, desperate to see her colorful eyes open. “Remi?” she croaks, her throat torn.

“Hey, hey…” Remi brushes a hand over her forehead, “you’re safe. It’s okay.”

Our father watches her with longing. He wants to hold her, love her without lies, without fear.

“Midnight. Midnight,” she cries, choking as she tries to speak. She wants her cat. “He hurt him.” She’s trying to move, to get up.

“I’ll find him,” Remi tells her. “Please stop moving. You’re injured.”

Her eyes dart to our father and tears fall. “Are you my father?”

There’s fear but also hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” he says, brows crashing.

Tears burn down her cheeks. “It’s not fair,” she cries. “How can it be fair?” She’s trying to move again, reaching for me, her good arm tugging on my shirt.

“Don’t think about any of that now. Just rest,” I tell her as he injects her with a sedative.

“It’s okay,” I soothe as her eyes close.

When she’s healed and ready to hear this story, we’ll tell her. Together.

Thirty-Six

Epilogue 1

Freya

Midnight curls his body between Remi and I, purring while nudging his face against my neck as we lay in bed, watching a storm rage outside. “You’re a cock block,” Remi pouts. I bite my lips to stop from laughing.

Midnight has been between us nearly every night since the attack. My warrior cat has a scar matching mine on his tummy and has been spoiled like a king by us all. Remi occasionally, “accidentally” locks him out of the room when he wants to worship my body, and I’m okay with that. “Your phone is vibrating again, baby. It’s kind of turning me on.”

Reaching over, I pick up my phone from his lap. “Stop putting it on your cock then.”

Groaning, he says, “Oh my god, don’t say cock unless you’re prepared to eat some afterward.”

Seeing Ivy’s name light up my phone with a text, I click to open it.

In the same hole!!!?

Blushing like a nun at a strip club, I click the screen off and slide my phone beneath my pillow.

I decided I was going to be more open with her about things here after I came so close to dying. I loved my boys and they didn’t deserve to be a secret—not after so many secrets nearly destroyed us all. So, I got a little verbally explicit with her on voice chat, and now she’s bugging out.

A twinge of pain zaps up my arm as I shift on the bed to get into a better position. It had been six long months since the injury. My father did an incredible job putting me back together, but I will always have some small nerve damage. It isn’t all the time, but now and then, I get a thread of pain interwoven with the scarring.

My stomach healed within a couple weeks, the small scar fading with a special cream I apply to it daily. The mental healing will take a lifetime, but I’m getting there with help.

Thunder rumbles from outside, the lightning that follows blasting the room in a quick bolt of blue. “You know, Noah is going to bitch about you leaving that door open.” Remi strokes Midnight when he crawls over his chest.

Grinning, I slip out of the bed and head to the wide, bi-folding doors that lead to a wide expanse of space wrapping around the entire first floor of our house. With our father spending more time here to build a real relationship with me, us, our new dynamic, we thought it courteous we get our own place, which made him take the plunge and move too. The house we’d grown up in was a noose around his neck, tightening every time he had to come back to it. Some pain is irreparable. So, he took up residency in a townhouse Noah had acquired for them not too long ago. Memories, the essence of their mother and Rose, weren’t in the walls of that house, they were within them and would always be a part of them—and me. They were our story.