His Straight Pet
he had said, his voice smooth as venom, “is what we are, Jude. Not the weaklings who hide in their books, not the parasites who cling to titles and politics. We are beasts. And beasts rule by fear.”
I’d swallowed my fear and nodded.
He’d smiled then, sharp and cruel, his fangs glinting in the torchlight. “Good. You’ll learn. Compassion is weakness. Weakness is death. And you, my son, will not die.”
That was who he had been—the Supreme Lord of the Dominions, feared by every clan, obeyed without question. Until the night he overreached.
I remembered that night too. The screaming. The wards cracking. The scent of ash and blood as he performed his forbidden rituals, calling on powers older than
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