Another man was slouched against one side of the cage, his face and chest covered in crimson. My father and the king of Ayelswick stood just outside the cage with a satisfied look plastered on their wicked faces.
What the fuck did we walk in on?
Grey was the first to make his presence known. He stepped out of the shadows with Caspian not far behind him. “Gentlemen, I believe you know Caspian Donahue.” His voice gave away no reaction to the scene in front of us.
Malcolm went white as a sheet, then dropped Lyric, letting the knife fall to the mat with a thud. Lincoln immediately rushed over to scoop her into his arms.
Jesus, how much more could one girl go through?
“Get her the fuck out of here,” I said when his eyes met mine.
Grey opened the door to the cage, allowing Lincoln to pass through with Lyric in his arms. For a split second, I saw a break in Grey’s icy demeanor when he looked at what Malcolm had done to Lyric. He swallowed hard, and his eyes softened as he stared at her broken body. It only lasted a second, though. Then he was back to the stone-cold asshole we all knew.
He looked at my father, then Malcolm—who had made his way out of the cage by now—and then King Winston Radcliffe of Ayelswick. “You three might want to take a seat.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Malcolm asked as he stared at the three of us standing in a row like some kind of fucking superhero montage. He was shook. It was apparent in his voice.
Good. That was exactly where we wanted them. Stone-cold and six feet under would have been better butshookwas a good place to start.
“That would be convenient, wouldn’t it?” Grey answered.
The Three Stooges stood there with their jaws set and shoulders squared like they were braced for battle.
We brought the fucking war. In this world, power wasn’t a privilege or a birthright. It belonged to those who were brave enough to take it.
Malcolm tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “You expect us to be intimidated by my lunatic son and some Caspian Donahue lookalike?”
Caspian’s mouth twisted into a bitter grin. “Is that what you think I am?” He stepped closer, letting Malcolm look him in the eye.
“It’s not possible,” Malcolm said.
“Oh, it’s very fucking possible. Just ask my father. He was as surprised as you are.” Caspian smirked. “Oh, wait. You can’t.”
Malcolm’s eyes grew wide with recognition.
I felt my dad’s stare boring into me.
I didn’t bother looking back.
I used to be afraid of my father. For most of my life, Pierce Carmichael had been this intimidating, vengeful presence, always out to prove something to someone.
Until I decided to become intimidating and vengeful, too.
Even though I was adopted, I had his darker skin tone and fierce drive for control, but that was where our similarities ended. I was nothing like him, and I didn’t have to prove shit.
“What about Tatum?” Malcolm asked.
Caspian darted across the five feet that separated us from them and wrapped his hand around Malcolm’s throat. “You don’t get to say her name.”
“Khalid?” my dad asked. The sound of his voice was like acid on an open wound.
Caspian turned to him long enough to answer. “Keeping my father company in Hell.” He looked back at Malcolm. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on Malcolm’s throat. “While they wait on the rest of you to join them.”
Khalid was another asshole member of this sick society. He’d chased Tatum through the woods in some sick game, in hopes ofclaimingher. He deserved what he got.
Grey stepped next to Caspian and clasped a hand on his shoulder. His gaze was focused on Malcolm. “As you can see, your plan didn’t work. Now, you have to deal with the pesky little issue of manipulating the plane crash that supposedly killed three people and what happened at The Grove that night.”
The Grove was a two-thousand-acre forest in upstate New York where the men of the Obsidian Brotherhood acted out their wicked fantasies in the name oftradition. I’d seen it firsthand, and the memory of it made me sick.