Ruthless Kings of Obsession (Leighton Royals University #3)

11. A Queen That Lost Her King

A Queen That Lost Her King

~ G EMINI~

They come at us in waves through the dimly lit corridor, each group more desperate than the last. Five agents block our path to the final exit, their tactical gear marking them as elite operatives. Their weapons are raised, stances perfect – but they don't understand what they're facing. A Queen with nothing left to lose and her dangerous ex-lover who reads her movements like they're still dancing through that midnight forest.

The emergency lights cast everything in harsh shadows, making the agents' movements seem almost ghostly. My heart pounds with a familiar rhythm – the dance of death I've perfected over years of training. Beside me, Ren's presence is both comforting and unsettling, a reminder of simpler times when violence was just foreplay.

"Three on the left," Ren murmurs, his shoulder brushing mine. The contact sends unwanted electricity through my body, muscle memory responding to his proximity.

"Two on the right," I confirm, letting Knifey dance between my fingers. The blade catches the light, eager for blood. "Lead or follow?"

His smile is all predator. "Ladies first."

We move like we never stopped fighting together, our bodies remembering a harmony forged in danger and desire. I drop and roll as Ren fires over my head, his shot taking the first agent through the throat. The spray of arterial blood paints the wall as I come up under the second agent's guard.

Knifey finds the femoral artery with practiced ease, the hot splash of blood on my hands almost comforting in its familiarity. The agent's eyes go wide with shock – they always forget that the pretty ones can be the deadliest.

Ren grapples with two more, his movements fluid and precise. He's gotten better since our days together, his technique refined into something beautiful and lethal. The crack of bones echoes through the corridor as he throws one agent into the wall with devastating force.

The fifth agent tries to flank us, thinking he's found an opening. Amateur. My elbow drives into his solar plexus as Ren dispatches his opponent with a neck snap that would make Zander proud?—

The thought sends a spike of pain through my chest, nearly causing me to miss the agent's counter-attack. Nearly. Instead, I channel the grief into rage, making my strikes harder, more vicious. By the time I'm done, there's hardly anything recognizable left of his face.

When it's over, we're both breathing hard, surrounded by the aftermath of our deadly dance. Blood patterns decorate the walls like modern art, bodies cooling on the concrete floor. The metallic scent of death fills the air, mixing with cordite and sweat.

"Why did you let him go?" Ren asks suddenly, wiping blood from his knuckles with deliberate casualness. But I know him too well – there's nothing casual about the question.

I start walking toward the exit, trying to ignore both the question and the bodies we're leaving behind. "We need to move."

"Eva." His hand catches my arm, the touch gentler than it has any right to be. "Why did you let Domino escape?"

The question hits harder than any physical blow. A heavy sigh escapes me as I lean against the wall, head hung low while I try to catch my breath. But I'm not really winded from the fight – it's the weight of everything else threatening to crush me.

"I don't understand it myself," I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's like... there are two versions of me fighting for control. Gemini – the girl he tormented relentlessly – she wants to watch him suffer like she did. See him broken, humiliated, stripped of everything he values. Make him feel as small and worthless as he made her feel."

My voice catches, emotions I've been suppressing threatening to surface. "But then there's Evangeline, who just wants to see her stepbrother dead for everything he's done. For Zander, for the years of torture, for every moment of pain he's inflicted. And yet..."

I pause, fighting to organize the chaos in my mind. "Neither side seems able to actually end his life. Or maybe... maybe I just want to be the one who breaks his heart when I finally enact my complete revenge. Not let anyone else steal that glory. Maybe I need him to live long enough to understand exactly what he's lost."

Tears start forming, unbidden and unwanted. They blur the harsh emergency lighting, making everything soft and unreal. "Maybe I'm just fucking insane. Maybe all his torture finally broke something in my head that can't be fixed. Maybe I'm as obsessed with hurting him as he was with hurting me. But I can't stop now. I've come too far, sacrificed too much."

"Why are you crying over that douche?" Ren asks, but his tone has lost its usual playful edge. Those observant eyes study my face with an intensity that makes me want to hide.

A sob catches in my throat, raw and painful. "That's not why..."

Understanding dawns in his expression, followed by a deep sigh that seems to come from his soul. Before I can react, he pulls me into his arms, holding me against his chest. The familiar scent of him – gunpowder now mixing with his expensive cologne – threatens to undo what little control I have left.

"You're ugly when you cry, you know that?" he says, but the words are soft, almost tender.

I try to push away, hand pressed against his tactical vest, but his arms tighten, keeping me close. "Who died, Moonflower?" His voice has lost all its usual swagger, replaced by a gentleness I'd forgotten he possessed. "That's the only reason you'd shed tears in the middle of a fight. The only thing that would make you look so... lost."

He pauses, and I can feel him piecing everything together, that brilliant mind working behind his carefully crafted facade. "Maybe to you I'm just the player who loved the chase, but I've been watching you rise from afar. Every step, every sacrifice, every transformation."

His hand moves to stroke my hair, an oddly comforting gesture that makes more tears fall. "All the training, the assassins you studied under – yeah, I know about Madrid and that month you spent with the Ghost. The endless work to become the woman who could walk into Leighton University and be worthy of becoming a Ruthless Maiden. And now their Queen."

The tears fall faster as memories assault me – Zander teaching me to shoot, his hands guiding mine on the gun. His proud smile when I'd master a new technique. The way he'd kiss each scar like it was precious, never asking where they came from but understanding anyway.

"My Masked Lover is gone," I whisper, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth.

There's confusion in his silence before understanding hits like a physical blow. "Benedict?"

I manage a nod against his chest, trying desperately not to break down completely. His hands come up to cup my face, thumbs wiping away tears with surprising tenderness. The gesture is so familiar yet wrong – these aren't the hands I want comforting me.

"You loved him, huh?" he asks softly, and the genuine care in his voice nearly breaks me.

"Love," I correct, my voice cracking. "Present tense. I love him. Even if he's..." The word 'dead' won't come out. Saying it makes it real, and I can't face that reality yet.

***"Make them pay. Make them all pay."***

The voices in my head scream for vengeance, but for once their bloodthirsty demands bring no comfort. What's the point of revenge if I can't share the victory with him? What's the point of becoming the Queen he always said I could be if he's not here to see it?

"He saw me," I whisper, more tears falling faster now. "All of me. The darkness, the broken pieces, the parts of me even I was afraid to face. And he didn't try to fix me or change me. He just... loved me. Exactly as I am."

Ren's arms tighten around me as a sob finally breaks free. "He made me feel safe," I continue, the words pouring out now that the dam has broken. "Do you know how rare that is? To feel completely safe with someone when you've spent your whole life looking over your shoulder? To trust someone so completely that you can actually sleep through the night?"

"Eva..."

"He was mine," I choke out, hands fisting in Ren's shirt. "My King. My protector. My perfect match in every twisted, broken way. And Domino took him from me. Just like he takes everything. Just like he's always taken everything."

"Hey." Ren's voice is unusually gentle as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "The Moonflower I knew never let anyone take anything from her. She took it back with interest."

A laugh that's more sob escapes me. "The Moonflower you knew didn't have a heart to break."

"No," he agrees, studying my face with those too-observant eyes. "She was wild and free and untouchable. But this version of you? The one who learned to love despite everything? She's stronger."

"I don't feel strong," I whisper, and it's the most honest I've been in years. "I feel hollow. Like he took the best parts of me with him."

"Then take them back," Ren says simply. "Channel that pain into power. Show them why a Queen is more dangerous than a King could ever be."

Another explosion rocks the warehouse, reminding us we're not safe yet. But for just a moment longer, I let myself be held by this man who once knew every inch of my body but never really knew my heart.

"I miss him so much," I breathe, the words barely audible.

Ren presses a kiss to my forehead – comforting rather than romantic. "I know, Moonflower. I know."

The voices in my head have gone quiet, replaced by memories of Zander's laugh, his touch, his unwavering belief in me. And maybe that's what I needed – this moment to acknowledge the loss before transforming it into something deadly.

Because Ren's right about one thing – a Queen is more dangerous than a King.

And I'm going to make them all remember why.