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Marked By The Devil's Heir
Marked By The Devil's Heir

Marked By The Devil's Heir

22 Chapters
Completed
In Marked By The Devil's Heir, Malakai's secret life is exposed by the ruthless Pierce Masterson. Forced into submission through blackmail, he must survive a dangerous obsession. Experience this dark psychological lgbt book, a gripping modern novel about power and control.

Marked By The Devil's Heir Summary

Malakai Kreston maintains the facade of a preacher's flawless son, yet he secretly harbors a dark habit of theft. This hidden life shatters when the affluent and cold Pierce Masterson catches him, using blackmail to demand Malakai's absolute obedience. Trapped in a ruthless game of psychological dominance, Malakai finds himself hunted by a dangerous obsession. As their boundaries blur, the captive must face a reality where his resistance starts to fade.
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Chapter 1 of Marked By The Devil's Heir

CHAPTER ONE

~MALAKAI~

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∙

I saw him today.

The devil in shining armour.

His face brought back all the memories I've tried to forget.

All the blurry lines became clearer.

Up until now, it had been difficult to distinguish between the truth and my imagination.

I can't believe it's only been twenty-four months since we last saw each other.

Sometimes it feels like decades; other times, it's just like yesterday. But he was real.

And he is my demon. He crawls out from under my bed every night, and I'm drenched in the nightmares of his own making.

'Pierce, do you know that the dark parts of you no longer scare me? I'm only afraid of the dark parts of myself that you created.'

**TWO YEARS AGO**

The whooshing sound of the belt welcomes me as I step into our living room. I can already feel the tension in the air. The sight of the belt is something I'm already used to.

My brother, Ezra, is facing the wall shirtless as our father mercilessly strikes his bruised back. I wince at the sight. The injury will certainly take some time to heal.

"Pornography is a sin! I'm only stopping you from going to hell!" Dad says furiously as he continues to lash out at my brother.

Mom is busy in the kitchen. She usually turns a blind eye each time our father punishes us. She always tells us that Dad loves us and that he only disciplines us to make us better human beings.

Dad is a preacher at the local church, and as his children, we are expected to be godly just like him. Other kids are expected to follow our example.

"Ezra, do you think I like doing this? The belt hurts me just as much as it does you!" Dad says, and I nearly snort at that. It's a lie I've heard so many times.

Dad notices my presence and says, "Your brother is so perfect. He attends fellowship, participates in activities, and gets good grades. Why can't you be more like him?"

Ezra stares at me, and I notice his bruised lip and jaw. It seems Dad has gotten a little too excited this time.

I stand in the corner awkwardly. Each time our father compares Ezra to me, the distance between us brothers only seems to increase, and I hate it.

"I'll be in my room," I murmur to myself. I can hear Dad continue to scold Ezra as I make my way to my room and lock the door behind me.

I snatch my laptop from the table and jump on my bed. I have more important things to do, and my thighs are already shaking in excitement as I turn on my laptop.

It's quite a pity that I'm not the perfect son my father thinks I am. I stare at the image of Lana Winters on my laptop.

My dirty little secret.

She's sitting by the poolside, her hair wet, droplets of water trailing down her neck and disappearing into her cleavage. The skimpy outfit she's wearing is soaked, clinging to every curve. Her exposed thighs are slim and long, slightly parted, and I imagine what it would be like to run my tongue along them.

This is only one of the hundreds of pictures of her that I have on my laptop. I've categorized them by outfit, by location, by how much skin she's showing. The swimsuit folder is my favorite.

I love Lana. She just doesn't know it yet, but she's going to be my wife and the mother of my kids. Yeah, maybe I'm delusional, but I don't care at this moment. One day she'll understand that no one will ever love her the way I do.

I put my hand in my pocket to withdraw my prize. Something I'll add to my collection.

Lana's panties.

White cotton with a tiny pink bow at the front. So innocent, just like her. A moan escapes my mouth as I press the flimsy material against my nose and inhale deeply. It had been difficult to steal this. After today's swimming lessons, I had to sneak into her locker while no one was watching. My hands were trembling the entire time, my heart pounding so hard I thought I'd pass out. But it was worth it. Hell, it was worth it.

I inhale again, deeper this time, letting her scent fill my lungs.

Good heavens. Even her underwear smells delicious, just like her. Sweet. Clean. Another moan escapes my mouth. I'm already getting excited. I stare at the image of Lana on my laptop and frown slightly. Why did he always have to be everywhere?

Pierce Masterson.

I can't even sneak a good image of Lana without capturing him as well. He seems to always hover around her, standing too close, looking at her like she belongs to him.

I don't like it.

He's always sniffing around her like a dog. But Lana is mine. 

I'm not about to allow him to ruin my good mood. I quickly glance at the door to confirm that it's locked before I bring down my pants. 

I work on myself with my eyes glued to the screen.

"Lana," I whisper, "I really love you."

The low gasp leaves my mouth as I released, my vision going white. It takes some moments to regain myself, my chest heaving, my body trembling with the aftershocks.

I stare at my laptop that's covered with the evidence.

Only it didn't land on Lana's face.

Pierce.

His face is stained with it. Streaks dripping down his cheek, pooling near his mouth.

I should be disgusted. I am disgusted.

But something twists in my stomach as I stare at it. I wince and grab a tissue, wiping the screen aggressively.

Such a turn-off.

I guess I'll have to start cropping his face from Lana's pictures from now on.

***

The bell rings for the first period. I'm sitting in my usual seat, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

"Hey, this seat is empty, right? Can I sit next to you?"

I look up at the owner of the voice, and my heart nearly explodes out of my chest.

Lana Winters, like always, looks so beautiful that I can't even concentrate on her words. Her lips are moving, but all I can think about is how those lips would feel against mine, how soft they looked, how I'd imagined them wrapped around my-

My mouth is wide open. I'm openly drooling over her when she suddenly asks, "Are you okay? If you don't want me here, then-"

You're already making her think you're a weirdo!

"N-no, I mean, s-sure, it's fine. You can sit here!" I rush out. I'm sitting so rigidly in tension, my spine completely straight, and my heart is roaring blood to my ears so fast I can barely hear myself think.

Even though Lana attends my father's church along with her parents, she's never directly spoken to me before. The new semester only started yesterday. How on earth did I ever get so lucky?

"Thanks, you're sweet," she smiles as she sits down.

I get a whiff of her sweet perfume, and heat creeps to my face as I realize she's just complimented me. She thinks I'm sweet!

If I had a tail, it would surely be wagging because of how excited I am right now.

"T-thanks," I murmur, hoping she can't see how flustered I am.

"Malakai, right? I'm Lana. We'll probably be seatmates for the rest of the semester. I hope we get along well." Lana smiles, and my heart is beating so fast that my feet start to twitch beneath the desk.

I can only think of the fact that she knows my name.

She fucking knows me!

I wish I could record this moment. It will certainly be the happiest day of my life.

The teacher enters, and everywhere quietens.

Still, my whole body refuses to calm down. I mean, Lana is sitting beside me, and I can't control the effect she has on me. Her arm is only inches from mine. If I shifted slightly, our skin would touch.

"Pierce Masterson..." The teacher starts to call attendance.

The mention of his name prompts me to look back, only for my eyes to clash with his intense stare.

He's already looking at me.

No. Not looking. Watching. Like a predator tracking its prey.

An unwilling shudder sweeps through me. I've always thought that Pierce looks a little crazy in the eye. There's something hollow behind them, something cold and calculating that makes my skin crawl.

I can't place this unfounded fear of him, but something in me knows that he's not someone I want to cross. Yesterday flashed in my mind and I look away, embarrassed, my cheeks burning.

Why am I suddenly thinking about that disgusting occurrence?

I try to focus on the board, on the teacher's voice, on anything else. But I can still feel Pierce's stare burning through the back of my head. It makes my neck prickle, makes my stomach tighten, and I don't know fucking why.

I can't concentrate on the lectures anymore.

Can he be jealous that Lana is sitting beside me? I'm always around Lana, so I know that Pierce likes her as well. Maybe that's why he's glaring at me. Maybe he sees me as competition.

The thought makes me want to smile.

"Moron..."

The word is quiet, almost lazy, but I hear it clearly. My shoulders stiffen.

He can't possibly be referring to me, right?

Yeah, I'm convinced that he doesn't like the fact that Lana is beside me.

The feeling is mutual because I hate Pierce too.

But even as I think it, I can still feel his eyes on me, and something cold settles in my chest.

∙

∙

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