Throne of Power (Throne Duet, #1)

by Rina Kent

To strong women.

“We’re Sokolovs, Rai,” he told me once. “We don’t bend the knee. Everyone else does.”

I release a deep breath as memories of sinister blue eyes invade my head.

I’m over that bastard. He betrayed me first. Now, it’s my turn.

Damien hits my shoulder with his, grinning like we’re close friends and he wants in on the secret.

“Spare us the suspense and choose.” Damien rubs his hands together. “Here’s a hint. Me.” “I said, not you.” My gaze roams until it lands on Kirill. He pauses, probably thinking I will go on with my threat. “Not Kirill either, for reasons. He can’t handle me.” He fixes his glasses and flips me off discreetly. I ignore him and continue on.

Blood drains from my face and my smile falters as I stare into the eyes I never thought I would ever see again. But here he is. Igor’s son, the husband I just willingly chose, is none other than the one who stabbed my heart then walked all over it. Kyle fucking Hunter.

I tilt my head to the side to get a better view of my little mafia princess. She’s actually sitting with the inner circle. That’s progress she must be proud of.

Slowly, the widening disappears and the blue of her eyes turns pitch-black. I smile to myself. Of course, Rai wouldn’t choose to let go. She’s the epitome of determination and infuriating stubbornness.

It’s Rai who speaks in her detached, cold tone. “Betraying the brotherhood is punishable by death.” Well, is that an ouch moment, or what? Even though I expected this reaction from all of them, for some reason, I never thought Rai would voice her thoughts concerning me this directly.

My gaze slides to Rai, who’s glaring at me with malice so deep, as if I murdered her family and ate their remains. Anger is good. Anger will keep her on her toes around me, which is exactly what she needs to do.

She meets my gaze with her lethal one. “I’m a Sokolov, and we keep our word.”

Before I can turn around, his hot breaths tease the lobe of my ear as he whispers in a low seductive British accent, “You voted for punishment. Is that your kink, Princess?” I swing around and raise my hand at the same time, ready to smack him. But he holds my wrist prisoner before I can touch him.

It might have been seven years since he left, but there’s nothing in this world that can make me forget what it feels like to be this close to Kyle.

“Mmm. I see you snatched your place within the elite group—I’m proud of you.” My breath catches in my throat like a rusty knife ready to cut. Undecipherable emotions attempt to flood me all at once, but I block them out. “I don’t need you to be proud of me.” “Doesn’t make me any less proud.”

“I hate you.” I tell him the words I’ve kept quenching for freaking years. “I would never marry you if it were up to me.”

I try not to get caught up in how handsome he looks when he laughs, when his angular features ease and he appears every bit the model on the cover of a GQ magazine.

Instead, I’m going to get under Kyle Hunter’s skin so deep, exploit his power, and then use it against him.

When the hurricane hits him out of nowhere, he’ll understand why storms are named after women.

Beneath the ice-cold exterior, there’s a feminine side she crushed and burned before it was able to blossom. But it’s not completely dead. Not even close.

“Do you know why I’m a shadow, Princess? It’s because no one notices when I’m gone.”

I did notice when he was gone. I did more than notice. It ripped me apart from the inside out, and I’m still not sure if the wound will ever heal. Now, I have to marry him and dig the knife deeper with my own hands.

Pain, whether physical or emotional, is only a phase.

Kyle abandoned me. Again. Only this time, he’s done it at the altar and in front of the world.

It would be so easy to pull the trigger and erase her from my path. What is she anyway, aside from an insignificant pawn who will cause more trouble than it’s worth? My finger won’t move. It can’t.

All I know is that I can’t pull the fucking trigger on Rai Sokolov, even though she’s my worst enemy.

Who knew someone who looks so much like an angel could harbor a devil inside?

I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close to my side. I spent a long time away from this woman, so long it’s become blasphemy to put even more distance between us.

She tastes like addiction and bad decisions, and yet I would still come back for a hit every day.

“I’m going too.” “No, you’re not.” “Yes, I am. The bastards don’t get to shoot at my family at my own wedding and expect me to stay in hiding.” “I will take care of it,” he mutters. “It’ll be easier if I’m around.” “Fuck, Rai.” He grabs my shoulder and whispers against my ear, “You’re in your damn wedding dress.” I lift it up and tie it so it’s no longer skimming the floor. “I can run in a dress.”

“What are you doing?” “Consummating our marriage, Princess. It’s long overdue.”

My heart still bleeds from back then, and I didn’t trust that I could let it exsanguinate this time. Because now? Now, I have a feeling he will hurt me irrevocably if I let him.

He chuckles, the laugh lines around his eyes turning them lighter, shinier.

He strokes his fingers across my skin, eliciting zap-like sensations from the bottom of my stomach.

“Our life together started with blood,” he says in a calm tone. “How do you expect it to end?”

He kisses my forehead and I freeze, not expecting the soft, intimate gesture. His lips linger for a second as if he’s savoring the moment and the newness of it.

Kyle reaches to the back seat and brings out a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels, takes a sip, and then offers it to me. “To the hell you’ll bring, Princess.” “I’ll drink to that.” I snatch the bottle from his fingers and down a generous gulp. Kyle smiles, giving me his side profile as he drives out of the parking lot.

His scent envelops me in a cocoon and it feels so peaceful and…right?

“I hate you,” I murmur. “I know.” “No, you don’t know how much I reaaaaally hate you.” “Why don’t you tell me?” “I hate your face.” “You’re in the minority on that, Princess.” “I hate your accent.” “Still in the minority.” “I hate your cheeky attitude when you don’t mean it.” He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear, and my eyes flutter closed. “So you love it when I mean it?”

Everything that’s hers will be mine now, whether it’s her tears or her anger, or even her hotheaded stubbornness.

“I never forgot anything about you, Princess.” And it wasn’t by fucking choice. Rai has always been something I can never erase from my head, no matter how much I try to.

I kiss her like this is our first and last time, like I’ve been deprived of it for life, and I probably have. Why the fuck wasn’t I kissing this woman before?

Despite her stony external image, her skin tastes like fucking honey.

I’m salivating for the danger that is Kyle Hunter, despite how much I hate him.

Kyle. The killer whose origins are unknown to all, along with the identity of who taught him to be a perfect killing machine. The only time I allowed myself curiosity and asked him, he disappeared for seven fucking years.

The last thing I want right now is to get caught in Kyle’s orbit after I’ve hardly left it. But did I really leave if he keeps dragging me back in? If he effortlessly provokes parts of me I didn’t even realize existed?

“I hate you.” Kyle stands up abruptly, startling me when he steals a brief kiss. “But you’ll love my games, Princess.”

My lips still tingle from the possessive way he kissed me in front of the world as if that has always been his purpose in life, as if claiming me in front of everyone has been his mission, his fate, and his driving force.

Kyle appears tame, approachable even, almost like he should be a doctor or some hot CEO instead of being in this line of work. While I know it’s a deceptive façade, he’s perfected it so well that when he shows his masculine, authoritative side, I have no choice but to stop and stare.

Rai Sokolov might compromise what I came back to do. And yet, whenever she looks at me with those challenging eyes, all I can think about is taking her up on it.