Revealing the Monster (Playing with Monsters #4) by Amelia Hutchins

I heard gasps coming from the crowd, as if his words meant something more. Or maybe they feared he would destroy this world for me? Leaning closer, I rained kisses across his jawline, slowly working my way from one side to the other. He chased my kiss, which emboldened me. Nipping his lip, he growled from deep in his chest, the sound building as it rose to his lips.

“Brazen wench,” he chuckled.

“You like me all over you, or you would have just given the clientele a verbal warning. You want everyone here to see us together, so they would visually know that I am yours. This is for them, not us. We know in our hearts, who we belong to, don’t we?” I asked, praying to any deity listening that he offered me confirmation.

He smirked, holding my stare until something rustled beside me. I closed my eyes as every instinct within me sounded, blaring that there was an incoming threat to Lucian. My wings opened, ripping the back of my dress as they expanded.

I moved without warning, slicing my wings toward the threat as I spun, sending a roundhouse kick at the decapitated body, following through to kick the head into the crowd.

Blood painted those close to us, and my power unleashed, giving a warning to anyone else threatening Lucian or me. A hush fell over the club, and the record scratched to a halt as the music stopped.

I hissed loudly, letting the anger and rage I’d felt escape through the club to those inside the room. A deep chuckle forced my attention to Lucian, who watched me with laughter sparkling in his darkening depths.

“I believe she only intended to offer us drinks, Lena.” His brow rose as his gaze dipped to the tray that sat on the stage, expensive scotch spilling out from the green bottle. The scent of it deflated my ego, and my wings slowly curled before folding back into my spine.

I silently slid back onto Lucian’s lap, throwing a peeved look at the crowd, who remained silent, covered in splatters of blood from the serving girl. Bristling in place, I turned to narrow my eyes on Lucian as he leaned back, enjoying my frustration.

“You should really put bells on the servers, along with flashing nametags. It would extend their lifespan, immensely.”

“Or you could not kill them.” he laughed.

“Or that, but the other aforementioned items would include me being able to tell them apart from a threat or the downstairs girls.” I’d once kicked a server out of Lucian’s bedroom, assuming she’d been his choice for the night. If I’d needed to, I would have removed her physically from that room where I’d first been with him.

“You spilled our drinks.” He ran his fingers over the inside of my thigh, a move meant to calm my inner emotions that rose at the knowledge that I’d just murdered an innocent. “I’d prefer to drink it from your pussy.”

I shivered at the memory of him doing that, along with another one of Spyder and him drinking it from my body. He growled softly, pushing the hair away from my shoulder before tracing it with his lips.

Spyder approached the stage with a second bottle of scotch, as if he’d been plucked and delivered to me from my memories. He smirked, tilting his head before placing two chalices on the table beside the throne. Once he’d filled them both, he held them out for us to accept.

“A toast to my King, and brother, and the woman he’s chosen as his Queen to rule his empire at his side, forever. To Lucian and Magdalena Blackstone! Master, and Mistress of Club Chaos, and everything attached to the title,” Spyder declared, holding out a glass flute of his own.

The crowd cheered loudly, even though most didn’t appear to approve of the toast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the women weren’t happy that Lucian was claiming someone other than them. The men as well seemed disappointed by the lack of show they were receiving this evening.

We drank the expensive citrus scotch as Spyder smirked and winked at me. Then, leaning forward, he spoke softly to Lucian, “Erie is here, and so are the others. If you’d allow it, Devlin and Bane will escort Magdalena to her.”

“Good. Is she sane tonight?” Lucian asked, but Spyder’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth twitched.

“Define sane, brother,” he chuckled.

Lucian groaned, placing the glass down to rub the bridge of his nose. “Is she of sound mind, at least?”

“I assume so, but she does appear to be wearing—Callaghan.” Spyder rubbed his hand over his mouth before peering at Lucian.

“Excuse me? Because it sounded like you said she’s wearing Callaghan.” I narrowed my gaze on Spyder’s shoulders, which moved in silent laughter.

“She’s what exactly?” Lucian asked, backing up my question.

“She’s wearing parts of him at the very least,” Spyder confirmed.

“Fucking Erie,” Lucian groaned, which caused a burst of laughter to escape me. “You think this is funny?” he asked, hiking one eyebrow up to his hairline.

“It’s Erie, so yes, it is funny,” I snorted, covering my mouth with my palm as more laughter bubbled up from the look of frustration on Lucian’s face.

“You’re sure she’s wearing—”

“Her estranged husband?” I offered, as Lucian searched for the best description to use. Laughter bubbled up from my chest, bursting from my lips before I could prevent it from escaping. “It’s funny. Who hasn’t wanted to wear their husband at least once?”