The Never King (Vicious Lost Boys Book 1)

I’m so fucking hard and pissed off that I could split the Darling in two.

That wet cunt was just begging to be fucked.

She knew exactly what she was doing and she did it so well too.

I go outside to the balcony and light another cigarette. It’s not enough. It’s not what I want.

The smoke burning in my lungs unwinds some of the tension between my shoulder blades. I prop my hands on the stone railing. The other Lost Boys have scattered but the bonfire still burns in the pit.

Somewhere in the surrounding forest, a mockingbird calls out in the night as the wind shifts and the palm fronds rustle.

Vane finds me there when he comes up the stairs. He’s been unwound too, more so than me. I can tell it by the energy in the air. I might not have all of my power, but at least I have that.

“You take care of it?” I ask him.

He gives me a nod, but his face tells me he didn’t like it.

“Cherry?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“She survive it?”

“Barely.”

“They never know what they’re asking for.” I’m not just talking about Cherry.

I take another hit, let the smoke leak out on its own.

“Cherry knew. But she asked for it anyway.” Vane tips his chin at me. “What’s got you looking like murder?”

I sigh. “Bash fucked the Darling.”

And then I stuck my fingers inside of her.

I can still smell her on me every fucking time I bring the cigarette to my mouth. So sweet. So tempting.

“Christ.” Vane leans against the railing, crosses his arms over his chest. “And you?” he asks.

I darken my gaze. “What about me?”

“I can smell her on you. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“I taught her a lesson.”

“You teach yourself one too?”

I take one last hit and smash the cigarette in a nearby crystal bowl, blowing the smoke out with a breath.

“If this one is getting beneath your skin already,” he says, “we’re all in fucking trouble.”

“Vane—”

“Don’t let her.”

“I fucking won’t.”

He levels his gaze at me, one violet eye, one black. His shadow is quiet, but I can sense it prowling beneath his skin. It is never totally satiated. Vane and his shadow hail from a different island, a darker one.

Even without the shadow, he’d be terrifying.

I still don’t know how I convinced him to leave his island.

He never told me his story and I never asked.

But the longer he’s here, the harder it is for him to contain what he is, the desires he has.

He’s fighting a different battle than me, but we are each fighting, nonetheless.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him.

He gives me a nod. “Don’t stay out too long. The sun is about to break.”

After he leaves, I linger on the balcony, hunched over the railing for much longer than I should.

The closer the sun gets to the horizon, the more my skin aches, the more my stomach churns.

We just have to keep it together long enough to get inside the Darling’s head, root around inside her memories and see what we can see. Two more nights until the full moon.

We’ll bide our time until then.

As the first ray of light peaks over the ocean horizon, I hesitate and drink in the color of day.

I get less than ten seconds before my skin is cracking and the pain surges through my veins, white hot and prickling.

Without my shadow, the daylight is a death knell.

I have to race to the tomb, smoke curling in my wake.