AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’M USED TO horrible people wearing pretty masks. My mother, for instance, spent most of her days hiding in our continuously rotting mansion, yet she acted like a different person in public. Her smile was wide and dazzling, her touch gentle as she guided me around rooms filled with people who were important in their own circles but meant nothing at all to me.
The Hands of Kings reminds me of her. Early December brings light dustings of snow and nights dark and cold. Another event, another way for the Kings to wear those pretty masks. Like the Diners of Influence dinner a few months ago, this one is open to the public. This event is meant to show the best side of the cult, to garner support from powerful players in Ireland.
But it's all a lie.
I sit in the corner of a sitting room under a painting of the Furies of Greek mythology—three sisters tasked with bringing justice to the world of men. The captain had named the vessel Alecto, after the fiercest of the three sisters. I can’t help but feel a connection to that name, to that fierce justice that seems so distant from the reality I’m living in.
A majority of the guests have gathered outside to watch the lights of Dublin float by as the super yacht glides along the River Liffey. I stay below decks, away from the spectacle.
Out of nowhere, Wolf hits my arm with the back of his hand and points to the bar area. The interior of the super yacht looks more like a spaceship than a vessel meant for the sea. When I first came on board, I didn’t even realize that some of the cabinets were cabinets at all. Only an hour into our cruise, I know exactly where all the goodies are. Wolf has already taken inventory, of course.
I pour him another glass of scotch, the amber liquid reflecting the sleek, modern lines of the bar.
"They made me stand on the docks," Wolf mutters, his voice low and bitter.
He doesn’t need to tell me this; I was there. I saw the way he seethed, struggling with being a Duke under his King cousins. This latest demotion only added to his fury. As a Marquess, he couldn’t board the ship until every King and Duke was on board. Diarmuid O’Sullivan took his damn time arriving with his two remaining Brides.
The top deck has been supplied with streaming lights and heaters, making the river cruise bearable in the winter chill. The Kings never do anything in the usual way. I can hear the murmurs of the people who come in to use the bathrooms, talking about how beautiful it is upstairs. I imagine the scene: twinkling lights reflecting off the water, the skyline of Dublin a glittering backdrop.
It’s a shame I’m stuck down here. My eyes flick back to Alecto as Wolf continues to mumble to himself. The fierceness in the Fury’s eyes and the conviction in her pose draw me in, a silent reminder of the justice that feels so far out of reach.
“They will never respect you, Wolf,” I say, my voice cold and devoid of emotion. I don’t even look at him when I say it. Part of me is afraid to. Another part of me knows it will infuriate him more if I disrespect him by not making eye contact.
Wolf snatches my hair from across the table and twists it. The burn along my scalp is instant, but I have become accustomed to pain. His grip twists further, forcing me to look at him. “What the fuck did you just say?” he growls, his face inches from mine.
Calluses don’t just form on the skin; they most often form on the heart. Abuse disguising itself as love has been my companion for my entire life. Wolf is just the final crack that broke the dam. After the waters receded, I was left empty. There’s no Amira left to hurt.
I meet his eyes, the fury in them not surprising me anymore. “Look what they’ve done to you, my love.”
The words "my love" are a lie to a liar. Wolf’s grip on my hair loosens, and he leans back into his chair. Calmly, in an almost motherly fashion, I reach into my bag and retrieve a small bag of white powder. I get out a credit card, pour some powder on the tabletop, and use the card to cut it into lines.
“Take your medicine, Wolf,” I say, pushing the lines toward him.
He stares at me for a moment, then leans forward, his expression softening. The anger in his eyes is replaced by a hollow need. Without a word, he takes the rolled-up bill I hand him and snorts a line. The transformation is almost immediate—his body relaxes, and the tension drains from his face.
I watch him, feeling a strange mix of pity and contempt. This man, so powerful and so broken, is reduced to seeking solace in a bag of powder. I should feel something—anger, sadness, anything—but there’s nothing left. I’m empty, a shell that goes through the motions without any real connection to the world around me.
One line isn’t enough. He’s already had plenty to drink, but I need to push him over the edge. Push him like he’s pushed me. I prep another line for him, steadying my hands as I continue talking.
“Your father was the head of the O’Sullivan family,” I say, my voice calm and controlled.
Wolf nods, eyes glazing over. “He was.”
“Who is the head of the family now?”
His hand lashes out, slapping me hard. One of his rings drags across my cheek, leaving a stinging line of pain. But nothing erupts within me. There’s a calmness, a cold clarity that processes the information and urges me forward.
“Diarmuid is the son of a man who tried to leave the order,” I continue, my voice unwavering. “He should have been ineligible.”
“I fucking know that,” Wolf snarls and snorts the second line. His movements are becoming sluggish, his eyes unfocused.
I look up at Alecto again, gathering my courage. The fierce justice in her eyes fuels me. Suddenly, I launch across the table, grabbing Wolf by the hair, twisting it. This time, I make him look at me.
Between the drugs and the alcohol, his reflexes are slow. He grits his teeth and starts cursing at me. One of his fists connects with my jaw, but I don’t flinch. Myteeth are gritted with wild, animalistic fury as I speak.
“Victor has done this to you. He has broken the rules just so you will lose. You will always lose with him around, Wolf. Always. He didn’t give a fuck about your father. In fact, it looks like he may have gotten rid of him just to take your inheritance from you.”
Wolf’s eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, like a predator preparing for a hunt. I lean closer, my grip on his hair tightening.
