Their Reign, page 17
“I thought you’d be coming alone, Judge.”
“Considering it was my sister’s wedding that was crashed, and she was the target, I felt it more than appropriate I be present,” Santiago answers before I can.
“Well, yes, of course. But Mr. Montgomery and I have some Tribunal business to discuss—”
“Nothing that can’t be discussed in front of my brother-in-law,” I tell him. I will keep no more secrets from my friend.
Hildebrand gives a disapproving exhale and settles into his chair, which is like a throne behind his desk. He wants me to sit as a Councilor on The Tribunal. And as I watch him I wonder more and more if the course my grandfather and Hildebrand set for me isn’t where I’ll do the most good. If I do it, though, it will be on my terms.
“First, allow me to congratulate you on your nuptials and the birth of your children, Judge,” Hildebrand starts. He takes a small box out of his desk drawer and pushes it toward me. “For your daughter.” The IVI bracelet all girls are gifted upon birth.
“Thank you,” I say, leaving the box where it is. I’ll take it home, but I can’t guarantee Ariana will be wearing it anytime soon. I’ll leave that to Mercedes to decide. Because ultimately, it’s a mark of ownership already. My daughter is a member of our Society, even if she is a Sovereign daughter. And that means something. And then there’s my son. A Sovereign Son like myself. Like Santiago and even Hildebrand. Privileged beyond belief. The world open to him. To her, too, but to a lesser extent.
“I trust you are fully recovered from the unfortunate incident earlier this year, Judge?”
The unfortunate incident of him requiring the full extent of punishment for Mercedes’s role in bringing unwanted attention to The Society. For my invoking the Vicarius clause and taking that punishment over.
“I am, thank you for your concern.” He is not concerned. It’s that playing field he would like to tip in his favor.
“Now that we’ve dispatched with the pleasantries,” Santiago starts, emphasizing the word pleasantries. “Perhaps you can tell me how an armed outsider managed to get on IVI grounds on the night of my sister’s wedding and attempt to kill her, succeed in almost killing her husband and her brother-in-law, who, by the way, was the man who brought Vincent Douglas down. Not an IVI guard of whom there were plenty.”
“What are you suggesting, Mr. De La Rosa?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’d just like to know what the hell happened that night.”
Hildebrand takes a moment but then nods. “As would I. We’ve questioned the guards at the gates, and two have been disciplined.”
“Two? What about the others?” I ask.
He glances at his desk, then back up at me. “I understand your brother needed long-term rehabilitation. I’m sure those costs are exorbitant. We will, of course, pay for his treatment and any distress the situation caused him.”
“Money is not the issue, Councilor. I’d prefer you take responsibility for what happened. More people could have been hurt if not for my brother.”
“Yes, Theron did a service to the Society,” he agrees. “And for that, he shall be rewarded.”
“You and Theron can work out those details between yourselves another time. But The Tribunal’s role, considering it is The Tribunal who manages security for our members, is what I’d like to discuss tonight.”
He clears his throat, struggling with this part. But neither Santiago nor I plan to let him off the hook, and we sit quietly, letting time do its work.
“I believe, gentlemen, that it came down to one thing. Vincent Douglas was determined to avenge his sister’s death. And we as The Tribunal underestimated his determination.”
“And my pregnant wife was almost killed for it!” I slam a fist on his desk.
Both Hildebrand’s guard and Santiago are on their feet in an instant, each with a hand on my shoulder. I realize I’m up towering over the older man. And Hildebrand looks more afraid than I’ve ever seen him.
I draw a deep breath in and manage my rage.
“Judge,” Santiago says quietly, gesturing for me to sit.
I do. And again, we wait for Hildebrand as he instructs his guard to leave the room. No witnesses, I guess. Once the guard is gone, he clears his throat and starts.
“The oversight was ours. And The Tribunal apologizes for any inconvenience.”
“You must agree it was more than an inconvenience, Councilor,” Santiago says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, it was. You have our sincerest apology.” He tilts his head, hating this. “But, Judge, since you mention your wife’s pregnancy. She was impregnated while in your care under the Rite, isn’t that correct?” he asks me with a pointed glance at Santiago.
“That matter is not for you to consider, Councilor,” I say calmly. Even if Santiago has forgiven me, I should have done better and been more trustworthy. Done things the correct way with Mercedes.
“Well, perhaps her brother would like it considered.”
“They are married. My sister is happy,” Santiago says. “And I am very pleased to call Judge my brother.” Santiago looks at me, and I feel a rush of emotion at his words. He turns back to Hildebrand. “That is all that matters.”
“IVI will need to move toward adopting more modern thinking on such matters, don’t you think, Councilor?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows.
“It’s one of the initiatives I plan to pursue once I’m seated on The Tribunal.”
This stops him, and I see what I believe to be as authentic a smile as he can muster. “Well, Judge, this is good news.”
I’m sure he still believes the power of being a councilor will corrupt me. I have no intention of allowing it to turn me into someone like him.
“I’ve already spoken with Montrose privately. Once he steps down in a few years’ time, I will take his place.”
“A few years?” The pleased smile is gone.
“He is not ready to go, and a seat on The Tribunal is a lifetime appointment. As you say yourself, the law must be followed to the letter.” Those were his exact words when he’d ordered my brutal lashing.
“Yes, that’s true, isn’t it? What are we if we cannot follow our own laws.”
“Exactly.”
I check my watch and stand. “It’s late. We don’t want to keep you, and we have an early morning, don’t we?” I ask Santiago.
“We do, and if I am not home to assist Ivy in packing, I will not hear the end of it.”
“I’ll be sure Theron touches base with you regarding that compensation once he’s home.”
“I look forward to it,” Hildebrand says, extending a hand to me.
I look at it, and I take it. Because it’s all you can do with men like him. Keep them close. Keep balance on that playing field.
“Enjoy your honeymoon, Judge,” he says.
“Thank you, Councilor.”
EPILOGUE
MERCEDES
“Is everything to your liking, Mr. Montgomery?”
The stewardess eyes my husband like he’s a cool drink on a hot summer day. It’s the same way she’s been eyeing him all week, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one fucking bit. Yet there’s something to be said because Judge doesn’t take his eyes off me as he responds.
“Everything is perfect.” His hand skims up over my thigh beneath the table, fingers warming my sun-kissed skin.
The stewardess lingers, waiting for his eyes to catch hers, but they never do.
“That will be all.” I grin at her, all teeth. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to ask my husband?”
She blanches, shaking her head quickly, and then scurries off.
“I swear to God,” I grumble as I squeeze Judge’s ridiculously handsome face between my palms. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” He leans closer, his lips brushing against mine. “I rather like seeing you this way.”
“Is that so?” I smile at him sweetly.
He nods, his hand skating further up my thigh. His eyes are dark and hot, and it wouldn’t take much to lure him below deck right now. But if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s that Judge and I still like to play games. We just play them a little differently now.
“Seriously,” Santi groans, interrupting that thought. “What have I told you about groping my sister at the breakfast table?”
“It’s our honeymoon,” Judge reminds him. “What did you expect?”
Another grunt. “I’m only here because my wife insisted we needed to come.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ivy appears from the main salon looking freshly fucked and pleased as hell.
“It doesn’t look like you’re faring too badly yourself,” Judge remarks dryly.
“Okay now it’s my turn to gag.” I grab my mimosa and take a long sip.
Santi gives me a roguish grin and shrugs apologetically, except I know he’s not sorry. Not one bit.
In addition to Santi and Ivy crashing our honeymoon, Solana, Georgie, Lois, and even Theron are here too. It’s either the craziest idea we’ve ever had or the best. Because with the exception of Theron, who I still trust about as far as I can throw him, they’ve all been taking turns helping with the babies. Which means Judge and I have the best of both worlds. Because there was no way we were leaving them anywhere while we jetted off to some beautiful destination. But Judge insisted he was giving me a honeymoon, and he’s come through on that promise while giving me something that I need just as much. Time with our friends and family.
We’ve been lazing our days away on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean, cruising from one beautiful port to the next. It’s been over a week of sun, sea, and hot sex, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Ugggg.” Solana groans as she finally decides to join us, her hair tossed up in a messy bun and huge sunglasses covering her eyes.
It doesn’t escape anyone’s notice that Theron’s eyes go straight to her ass as she moves across the deck. I shoot him a glare, and he shrugs.
“Where are we even at?” Solana asks. “Or better yet, what day is it?”
“It’s punishment day, from the looks of it,” I tell her. “That’s what you get for playing drinking games all night.”
“It’s Georgie’s fault.” She plunks into a chair at the table and pours herself some coffee. “He’s the one who wanted to do karaoke.”
“Which was riveting,” Judge says dryly. “Please, give us another rendition this evening.”
Solana rolls her eyes. “As if you were even there. Don’t think I didn’t notice you hauling your wife off to your stateroom, Lawson Montgomery.”
“I won’t deny it,” he says smoothly.
“Where are my babies?” Solana pouts.
“Sleeping. And don’t you dare think about waking them up,” I tell her. “Lois will murder you if I don’t.”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “I can’t help it. They are so cute.”
“I make good babies,” Judge says proudly.
I shoot him a glare. “Oh, you make good babies, all on your own, huh?”
He arches a brow at me, amused. “I’m having flashbacks of the delivery.”
“You’re just lucky they have my lovely temperament.”
At this, he snorts. “Temper is more like it.”
I flash him another sweet smile, and he leans in to kiss my jaw before whispering in my ear.
“Should I work on putting another one in you?”
“Lawson Montgomery, don’t you dare utter those words to me for at least another five years.”
He chuckles, his fingers moving to the nape of my neck, settling on the tattoo he finally inked into my skin. It took us some time to adjust to our new schedule of caring for the twins at all hours of the night, and it didn’t come without its struggles. Judge still shudders every time he refers to that period as the ice age because I was hormonal and, quite frankly, overwhelmed. I cried often and took out my frustrations on him even more often, but through it all, he was there. He talked me through the rough nights, held me through the worst ones, and put up with enough to make him look like a saint. And for that, I love him even more.
It took some time for us to come back to ourselves and figure out how to navigate parenthood with marriage. At times, it felt like we were both fumbling around in the dark, but we got through it. We’re still getting through it. And when it felt like we’d finally weathered the worst of the storm, I asked Judge to do what he’d set out to the night he married me.
So in a courtyard full of our family and friends, and a horde of guards with weapons this time, I kneeled before him and let him ink his family crest into my skin. Honestly, I don’t think there’s ever been anything hotter, and he thought so too, if the way he spent the rest of the night inside me is any indication.
Now, every time he touches it, I feel that possession. His claim on me. And maybe it’s an antiquated tradition, but I like having his brand on me. I love it, in fact. It’s almost ironic, considering I spent my whole life trying to escape these customs. Now, I’m in it for the long haul. But it doesn’t scare me the way it once did. There’s something freeing about being with Judge in this capacity. He’s still the same bossy, domineering man who boils my blood at times. And with my temper, there’s never a lack of passion between us. But I love my life. I love my husband. Our babies. Our beautiful, dysfunctional family. We have more than any two people should have, and I’ll never stop being grateful for it. Not for one second.
Yet sometimes, I still can’t help myself. I have to keep Judge on his toes. Which is exactly what I intend to do when the deckhand makes an appearance. He’s a young, handsome Frenchman who’s charming as hell. Of course, he doesn’t hold a candle to Judge, and he never will. But that’s beside the point.
“It feels hot outside today, doesn’t it?” I ask Solana.
I can’t see her eyes behind the big sunglasses, but a smile curves her lips as she catches my drift. “It does. I think it’s going to be a scorcher.”
“Mercedes.” Judge’s voice is a low growl in my ear that I ignore.
“I could almost use a dip.” I lean into him and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before I’m up on my feet.
I can hear his muttered curse from under his breath as I walk toward the swim deck, unknotting my sarong and letting it fall away. Underneath, I’m wearing a black bikini. The result of a lot of time in the aerial studio. My body probably won’t ever be the same, considering I have hips and an ass now, but I’m happy in my skin, scars and all, and nothing can take that away.
“Hey, Philippe.” I wave up at the deckhand with a dazzling smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Montgomery.” He dips his head politely, but his gaze lingers for a minute.
That’s about the time an arm catches me around the waist, and I let out a squeak of feigned surprise.
“What are you doing, little monster?” Judge whispers in that low voice full of dark promises.
“What?” I return innocently.
“You know what.” He slaps my ass in front of everyone, and heat flushes my cheeks.
“I don’t know. I rather like seeing you this way.” I turn his earlier words around on him.
He offers me a devilish grin, sliding his tongue over his teeth. “Is that so?”
I nod.
“Well, in that case…” He scoops me up over his shoulder, and I squeal for real this time as he carries me off caveman style toward our room. “I think it’s time to remind you who you belong to, Mrs. Montgomery.”
A secret smile curves my face as I bob up and down, waving goodbye to the laughing faces at the breakfast table. “As if I could ever forget.”
WHAT TO READ NEXT
REQUIEM OF THE SOUL
Requiem of the Soul is the first book set in the world of The Society. If you enjoyed this book and are new to The Society, you can continue your journey here.
* * *
Welcome to The Society…
* * *
The lace of my dress scratches my skin. I shiver. It’s cold, a wet cold as soft mist turns to rain. Rain on your wedding day is good luck, right? Isn’t that what they say?
Candles protected inside glass lanterns line the stairs leading up to the double front doors. I stare up at them, remembering the last time I stood here. It’s been a while.
The doors are opened. Organ music and incense pour out.
I close my eyes, listening to the sound, and take a deep breath. The scent and sound combined are dizzying.
No, it’s not those things that have me swaying on my feet. It’s what’s coming. What’s waiting for me at the end of the aisle.
My brother wraps his hand around my arm. He mutters a curse as he rights me.
I grip my bouquet of blood-red roses. If I’m not careful, I’ll crush them. They’re striking. Beautiful. Like my dress. He has impeccable taste, my fiancé, and he likes things a certain way. He has rules. And he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.
I’m slow as we ascend the stairs toward the entrance. It irritates my brother, I know, but everything irritates him. The toe of his shoe catches my long veil, tugging my head backward momentarily. A few steps more and we stand inside the vestibule, the organ louder, the incense stronger, combining with the smell of melting wax.
The doors close behind us, that final divide between what was and what will be. My past and my present. The voice inside my head urging me to run grows louder, but I don’t run. It’s no use.
Our guests rise to their feet, gazes blank as they turn back to look at me, their sacrificial bride. I don’t see their faces, though. They’re just shapes in my periphery. I only have eyes for one man. The stranger before the altar. The stranger in whose bed I’ll sleep tonight.
I feel numb. Like it’s not real. Like it’s not me.
The room sways, and my brother’s grip tightens. I’ll have a bruise tomorrow. We take one step then another. I clutch my bouquet like it’s my lifeline. My nails break the skin of my palms, the blood slippery, wet, the pain keeping me from giving in to the vertigo.
