The rain falls so hard it seems to soak Damien to the bone; and if he could feel anything, he would writhe and tremble. But he remains impassive under the downpour, a bouquet of violets in his hand. Gripped so tightly that the stem begins to snap under the pressure.

Violets were Anna's favorite flower. But, like her, the flowers have lost their meaning. They have vanished into the mists of his memory, leaving only the bitter scent of violets and the painful memory of eyes that had lost their sparkle in his arms because of Viper. Damien has lost his heart, he's lost his humanity. He's lost his teenage love. The times he and Anna would sneak away at night to kiss under the stars. He's lost the tears he and she shed when they couldn't have children. He's lost the ring, he's lost the will to love.

And all Damien has is The North Dragons. His blessing and his bane at the same time. The only reason he has to stay alive now. And he'd be damned if he wouldn't fight tooth and nail to keep the gang that has raised him to glory and plunged him into misery. It would be a disgrace to Anna's name.

Micah has deserted like a scurrying rat, and the rumors have grown louder. The Scorpions are gaining ground, they're getting stronger. Everything feels like it's 1980 again, only he's older, more tired, and his teeth are sharper.

You look so much like Atlas that he feels like throwing up. He watches you silently through the glass window of the flower shop where you work, clutching the flowers even tighter. He knows that if Anna is in heaven, she'll be twisting among the clouds. But nothing matters anymore. Only power. So that's why you're in the spotlight. Thinking that he really is a good man with good intentions towards you.

"Hi, gorgeous." Damien smiles, dripping wet, as he enters the shop. "I hope you like the violets; I picked them with you in mind."

Lies. All lies.

But with a few more lies, he'll have you eating out of his hand. He'll figure out what the Scorpions are up to, and he'll still be king.