Men do not want to hand over power. They want to test it, break it, bend it.
I look down at Fae resting against me and all the fear I feel about today hits even harder. It’s not just me who’s a target after today, it’s her too. The thought of anyone using her to bend me makes something cold slide through my veins.
My fingers still against her spine for a second too long; she notices, tilting her head slightly. That little frown forms between her brows.
“You’re thinking too much,” she murmurs.
I sigh, squeezing her closer. I shift, pressing a kiss into her hair before carefully moving her off my chest. Her warmth leaves too quickly.
“We should get ready,” I say.
She nods, her fingers trailing down my arm like she’s memorising it. Sitting up, I move to the edge of the bed, placing my elbows on my knees and staring at the floor for a moment.Fear is a useless emotion unless you know how to weaponise it. So that’s what I do. I catalogue it.
I am not afraid of pain.
I am not afraid of blood.
I am not afraid of the men in that room.
Behind me, I feel her breasts press into my back as her arms wrap around my waist. Fae doesn’t speak. She presses her face into the middle of my shoulder blades.
What I am afraid of is hurting her.
What I am afraid of is losing her.
What I am afraid of is men getting to her.
Fuck.
I groan, swiping my hand down my face and breathing in deeply. I can’t give my dad a reason to doubt me. I can’t show weakness. I can’t fuck this up. I move my hand to hers, squeezing gently before we separate. I hear her moving, drawers opening and fabric shifting like this is any other normal day we’ve woken up together.
I stand and head to the shower, blasting cold water onto my body. The temperature shocks my system and hardens my thoughts into something sharp. When I step out, I catch my reflection in the mirror. To everyone else, I look calm, controlled, and unreadable.
Good. That’s what they need to see.
After Fae showers, we finish getting ready in companionable silence. I dress with precision, my dark suit fitted with crisp lines. When I turn, Fae is watching me from the dresser. There is pride in her expression and… something else.
“Whatever happens,” she says quietly, “promise me you don’t let them change you.”
A faint smirk pulls at my mouth.
“They won’t.”
But internally, I know that’s not entirely true. Initiation does change people. It’s the moment you stop being protected by your family’s shadow and start standing where the knives can actually reach you.
I walk towards her, adjusting my cufflinks. Pressing a finger under her chin, I lift her face towards mine, studying the lines of her mouth, her skin, her cheekbones. Leaning down, I press a chaste kiss to her lips, lingering but not advancing before resting my forehead against hers to ground myself.
“Stay close if you can,” I mumble as her hands find my tie, adjusting it so it sits straight.
“I can take care of myself, you know?” she smirks and I tap her arse before stepping back.
“I know. You just shouldn’t have to.”
I take her hand, brushing my thumb across her knuckles before leading her out of the bedroom. I can hear the rest of the guys downstairs. The smell of coffee and tea is a tell-tale sign everyone is already up. Each step down the stairs feels heavier than the last. Not because I doubt myself, but because today I stop being a son and start becoming something far more dangerous.
Today I am the kind of man you either kneel to or try to kill.
CHAPTER 28