Revolt (Legends and Love)
Revolt: Chapter 47

She looks incredible, she always does, but this evening, I want to lock the doors and not let her out. She is a fucking goddess, and no one would be able to resist checking her out, never mind flirting with her.

What if she flirts back?

Am I allowed to kill them?

She’s supposed to be single, and I’m not a fool. I checked out her past, so I know she would usually hook up at these types of parties. What if she does again? Am I expected to stand by and watch? I wouldn’t, but when I meet her eyes as she walks toward me where I lean against the door, I lose my train of thought. Her hair is perfectly pin straight and curled in at the bottom, with one side braided back behind her ear to display her new ear tattoo and piercings up the shell, including a dangling anarchy symbol earring. Her lips are a deep red, which makes my cock hard, but it’s the dress that renders me speechless. It’s translucent and floor length, with crisscrossed mesh and sparkling diamonds. Her breasts are bare under the fabric, some diamonds covering her nipples, and her pussy is covered by a tiny scrap of black. She looks good enough to fucking eat.

I just stare, unable to help it as she comes toward me.

I know what the term shell-shocked means now.

She grins and kisses my cheek as she slides into the car, releasing me from her spell, and I suck in a deep breath, my lungs aching from the lack of oxygen.

Shaking off my desire, I hurry inside after her. Cillian sits at her side as Raff drives, and Astro sits with him. We always take turns, and I’m so lucky I get to sit in the back with her tonight.

My thoughts once more turn to what we’re walking into. “What can we expect this evening?”

“Drinking, dancing, rowdy celebrities, probably drugs, and people fucking in the pool.” She laughs. “Oh, and a whole lot of music.”

“And you?” I find myself inquiring. “Will you be hooking up in the pool?”

Her eyes widen, her eyebrow arching. “Why, are you offering?”

“No, I just mean, I understand we can’t go public, so if you’re wishing to . . . to fuck someone else this evening, I would like a heads-up so I can let these idiots lead me away before I kill the person you touch.”

She watches me carefully for a moment. “Dal, I don’t plan to hook up with anyone,” she tells me. “Why would I? I’m happy with what we have. Aren’t you?” She appears shy, blushing slightly. “I know we haven’t discussed what we are—”

“Baby,” Raffiel interrupts, “if you think we are anything other than in a relationship, you’re delirious. We share a bed, we go on dates, we fuck, and most importantly, we don’t share, not outside of this car. You are ours, just as we are yours. Is that clear enough? If you wouldn’t kill us, I would shout it for every single partygoer. I’d let them know you are our girl and not to bother looking. We don’t play games, Reign, not like those before us, and we know what we want—you.”

“Good.” She grins. “I hate games. I never understood them. I’m yours, and you are mine. That’s the deal.”

“I have something,” I grumble. “I thought maybe you could wear it. You don’t have to if it doesn’t match your outfit. I’m not good with female fashion but . . .” I pull the box out. “I just thought with this, you are wearing us on your body, so it’s like a secret between us, and no one else knows what it means but us.” It seems silly now, but her eyes widen, and she grabs the box from me before I can retract my words, opening the black case.

She stares, and I shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it. I can exchange it—”

“Like fuck you will,” she snaps, her eyes brimming with tears as they meet mine. “It’s perfect. The most amazing gift I have ever received.”

Tugging the slim silver chain from the box, she holds it up. Each point of the star has a jewel that represents our birth months, and in the middle is hers. She lifts her hair and turns. “Put it on me?”

“You don’t have to, your dress—” I start.

“Dal, put the necklace on me,” she demands, glaring at me over her shoulder.

Unable to deny her, I shift over and fasten it. She drops her hair and turns to me, holding the pendant. “It’s perfect,” she whispers. “I love it. I’ll never take it off.”

“Really?” I ask, unsure.

“Dal, it means the world to me. Not only did you get what type of jewelry I wear correctly, but you also went out and picked this without my help or me having to tell you. I love the idea of wearing a piece of you—all of you.”

“Good.” I nod, and she leans over and kisses my lips.

“Now you wear a part of me,” she whispers as she sits back. “Let’s go get drunk and dance way too much!”

The Dead Ringers’ tour launch party is unlike anything I have ever been to before. Reign explained that they have an official one, but this is the unofficial one for friends and other artists, so basically a giant celebration. I’m a little pissed the man Reign hooked up with is here, but when we head inside, I see him staring longingly at another woman and let it go.

After all, I can’t kill all of her exes, can I?

The huge house overflows with people, and I notice a lot of celebrities here, from rappers to actors. Hard liquor flows freely, and there are definitely some drugs. Every eye turns to Reign as she enters, filled with lust, hatred, or happiness.

They either want her or want to be her.

I don’t blame them.

This is definitely a different world than ours. We are used to hunting through forests and slogging through mud, not overflowing diamonds and blaring rock music as people laugh and drink. It poses its own challenges, and I refuse to let my guard down with my girl here. She will have a good night, and I refuse to let anything else happen.

“Reign!” a drunk rapper calls, hugging her. “Damn, girl, looking fine.”

“Thanks, Eight-two, great party.”

“Isn’t it? Tucker isn’t here, though, so have a good night. Fool is in rehab. Shit, I might need a room next to him!” He laughs as he stumbles away, three women following him. She shakes her head, watching him go, but she does seem surprised about the news regarding Tucker.

Before I can ask her if she’s okay, Trav spots her and heads over. “Reign!” He goes to hug her, but he meets our eyes and swallows, turning pale as he pulls back. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for anything. You know I’m your guys’ biggest fan. Now introduce me to the famous Beck.” She winks, and he offers her his arm. She accepts it, and he leads her through the crowd. Reign greets people as they go, accepting drinks that I take and pour out—the only way she’s drinking is if we pour it.

You can never be too careful.

Trav approaches a sofa where three other men sit. I run my eyes over them and dismiss them as threats. They are the Dead Ringers, nothing more, but perched in the middle is a female. Beck, I am guessing. She’s laughing at something one of them says, her eyes lustful as she watches them, and that does grab my attention.

“Travy.” She grins when he joins them, and then she swallows when she sees Reign. “And Reign Harrow, Trav’s booty call, I mean friend.” Her eyes widen, and I see jealousy there as well as horror at her slip. She is too drunk to realize she said that out loud.

Reign just laughs. “Not a booty call anymore,” she replies. “Just friends. You are the infamous Beck. It’s nice to finally meet you, and I’m glad you fuckers got rid of that snooty bitch Kerry. She was a good singer but a horrible person,” she remarks.

“So I’ve heard.” Beck winces and stands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s fine,” Reign promises. “How about we get a drink?”

Becks nods, nervously glancing back, but Trav and the others just urge her on. It’s obvious Reign means a lot to them, but so does Beck, and as Reign and Beck walk away, I watch all three of them stare at Beck’s ass.

They all want her.

It seems we have more in common than we thought.

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