Broken (Beautiful Monsters, #3)

by Jex Lane

“He is the only one I have ever loved.” Malarath’s eyes narrowed and he set free his anger. “And you took him from me.”

Incubi may have evolved to be arousing, to be perfect, so they could attract prey to feed upon, but they were as much monsters as vampires. At least vampires were honest about what they were.

In the long hours of silence, his thoughts turned to Devak and he fell to grief. He’d never again feel Devak’s warm touch, or soft lips. He’d never see his amber eyes or hear his serene voice wrap around him. They only had a few months together, yet it had seemed like so much more.

He pictured Devak’s kind, honey colored eyes and how he had felt tremendous serenity whenever he looked into them. And now he’d never see them again.

The idea that Devak was just gone was devastating. There’d be no meeting him in the afterlife, no hope he might be reborn, nothing. Nothing. He had lost everyone. His wife and Devak, dead. Tarrick, Samantha, Lily, even Jet…all taken from him. He was alone.

Matthew felt…numb inside. He was also put in cages and used in ways that were beyond his control. He’d lost his freedom, his lover, his ability to protect those he cared for…what kind of man was he? Pathetic.

“Have you ever taken the time to mourn him?” Guilt flooded Matthew. He had been avoiding thinking of Devak. Devak was dead. Nothing was going to change that.

Matthew tried to shut everything out. Devak’s face kept crossing his mind. His handsome features, his bronze skin, his gentle eyes. Matthew could even smell sweet wine and fragrant oil in the air. What he wouldn’t give for just one more night with him.

Matthew ached for that. He wanted to be touched by someone who wanted him for more than just feeding or lust or control. He wanted a lover to talk with again and to listen to what someone had to say. God, he missed Devak.

“I will see you become what you’re meant to be.” “What does that mean?” Samantha smiled up at him. “You are the Prince of princes.”

“The knife in my back hurts,” she said, her voice sounded different; distant. Matthew watched as her eyes turned all white. “The eyes in the dark. Ruin will walk the earth. The unbinding binds us all.”

Every time I’m around you, you affect and surprise me in unexpected ways. I enjoy being near you. Tarrick had said. It only served to confuse Matthew more. He wasn’t sure what he felt anymore. What he wanted. His future was too uncertain. He had lost too much recently.

“What does being in love feel like?” Matthew paused halfway through taking off his pants. “Uh, well. It’s like…you’re alive inside. Like everything is brighter…and more frightening. Love is caring for someone so much it hurts because it makes you vulnerable. Lasting love is hard work and compromise, but it’s worth it.

“I am Mazarus. Tell Prescott an old friend says hello, I can sense him out there. Oh, and let him know that one day his soul will be mine.”

“You never came for him, Master. After the Queen turned him, you abandoned him for power…to become the High King. The throne was more important to you than your love for him. This endless fucking war we’re locked in is all about your vengeance. Thousands of years of you seeking to take from the Queen what she took from you…but you made him what he was, not her. And in the end, you were the one who took his life. You fucking hypocrite.”

“It wasn’t her fault you lost him,” Matthew growled. “You let him go. He was watching over me my whole life and he never once came to see you because of how bad you hurt him. It wasn’t until me that he found love again. I loved him and your Imperator killed him. Now he’s gone forever and it’s your fault.”

“Is this war only about punishing the vampire queen over a lost mate?” “Does it matter how the war started?”

Matthew’s eyes drifted to the stone. Devak had died three times: first when he became a vampire, then when the High King had taken his head, and last when Prescott and Hiroto had poisoned and stabbed him. The High King was responsible for all three deaths in one way or another, influencing the events that led to Devak’s demise.

Feelings of misery drowned him. He wasn’t strong. He had failed to protect those he cared for. He was nothing. A sweet voice wrapped around him. “You are everything, my prince.”

“My King has spent the last few millennia unable to resolve the feelings he had for his dead mate. A mate that ignored him when he returned, and instead fell for you. Tonight happened because Devak chose you, not him.”

Matthew stilled and let Tarrick mark him; claim him. He found himself enjoying this. He let himself pretend that he belonged to Tarrick. Foolish. But a nice fantasy.

“Gerhardt loved my horns—they were his favorite part of me,” he said without looking back, then he left, shutting the door behind him.

Matthew: born of the sex goddess, Ilertha, sired by the Blood God, Lysandros, wielder of Bloodreaver, Harbinger of Ruin, and dirt mover extraordinaire.

“We don’t have the luxury of a romantic love story. You don’t belong to me and I refuse to fall for something that I cannot have. If we are going to do this, we can’t afford to be distracted by each other.”

Without thinking, he focused on his coiled thread within himself, forced it to unravel, and attached it to Tarrick.

If he couldn’t have Tarrick, his incubus side would settle for pretty much anything right now. His incubus was a slut.

“Lariv Abernath,” she said, her voice echoing with an angelic quality, “you have been judged and found guilty. Your sentence is death.” Matthew smiled. She didn’t look so scary. “Really? My real name is Lariv? That’s fucking lame,” he said as he charged at her.

His armor—no longer drawing power from the Night Stones—might as well not have been there for all the good it did. His body shattered inside his skin. Bones broke and snapped, blood pouches and soavik burst, and his insides became way more mush than they should have been.

“I’ve fucked your dad…and your mom.” Tane tossed Matthew to the ground again. “You can crawl to the car.” He marched off, and Matthew laughed until he passed out.

“To be precise,” Devak said, “I can only die permanently if killed by the weapon of an opposing god. The Imperator stabbed me with a blade of Ilertha because he thought I was a blood guardian. It didn’t kill me, but it did desummon me. I’m not as powerful as someone like the Judge, and with our goddess missing, it took a long time for my body to reform.”

Devak was alive? Here? There was no way that was possible. Life wasn’t that kind to him.

Devak was alive. Matthew pressed his hands into his eyes. Devak was alive. He felt as if his heart might explode in his chest. And a feeling of exaltation overtook him, as if the universe had finally decided to give him a break for once. Devak was alive.

Devak met his eyes. “My pri—” Matthew cut him off by running his fingers over Devak’s lips and began to map his face. He couldn’t believe this…he leaned in and their lips brushed together. It was Devak: his warmth, his skin, his taste, his scent. Matthew grabbed Devak, wrapped his arms possessively around him, and pulled his body into the space between his knees.

A low growl escaped Matthew, and he wanted to chase everyone else away. Devak was his and no one else’s.

He needed to be a warrior. No longer would he allow anyone to collar him, make him kneel, or submit. He would fight. And those who stood before him were going to fall. The Judge, Malarath, dragons, gods, greater demons…all stronger than him and all a threat. And he would find a way to defeat them all.