Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 140780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
What about after?
What about when they tried to confirm said pregnancy and found nothing but a lie?
In the dense blood-red maple trees to my left, a shadow hissed, low and violent, followed by an impatient grumble to intervene.
Lucien stiffened beside me, noticing his panther’s fraying self-control. “Stay put,” he commanded under his breath. “You mess this up, and I’ll never talk to you again.”
The sudden urge to laugh like a crazy person had me clamping a hand over my mouth.
Stress did odd things to people and right now, it was either giggle hysterically at Lucien giving his panther such a childish ultimatum or pass out at his feet.
Lucien shot me a worried look before he smothered it with disdain.
The guards suddenly got a handle on their shock and gawked at me as if I was a goddess perched on a fertility shrine. Their eyes widened as they looked me up and down, acting as if they’d personally witnessed us in bed together. Watched us writhing and thrusting, creating something that didn’t exist.
The urge to laugh vanished as suddenly as it’d arrived.
Pain and dizziness grew stronger.
Whisper snapped his teeth, whining a little as he sensed my rapidly building panic. But he didn’t venture out from the maples. Didn’t dare go against Lucien’s order to ‘stay put.’
Taking a step forward, the redhead stiffened as if he was reporting to the army. He flicked a look at Lucien but couldn’t stop his gaze straying back to my very empty, very unfertilised belly. “She’s pregnant?”
My knees threatened to buckle.
But Lucien just stood there, calm as could be in the eye of the storm he’d deliberately created. “Yepppp.” He popped the P, making it sound like an achievement. A notable award at impregnating me instead of the calculated lie that it was.
I couldn’t look away from him.
Couldn’t unscramble fact from fiction because he’d turned into such a chameleon. Who exactly was he? What part of him was real? Had any of the moments we’d shared been true? Or was I just the fool he’d trained and cultivated—turning me into a weapon?
But if I was, why me?
He could’ve used any other girl. Any other foolish, ridiculous girl who stupidly thought she had feelings for him. Someone who didn’t blackout.
My heart sank.
I’d let this man in.
I’d treated him sincerely but...what if he’d merely been moving people around on his chessboard—playing a long game of strategy, sacrificing what needed to be sacrificed, and lying so convincingly?
I swallowed hard as tears ached.
Maybe I’d been nothing more than the chess piece my namesake said I was. A rook used to claim checkmate.
A big black paw appeared from beneath the weeping maple branches.
Whisper’s golden eyes caught mine as if he could taste my heartbreak.
I sucked in a breath as the wet-slick panther slunk out and—
Four guns whipped back up, fingers pressing on triggers.
Instinct screamed at me to move—to put myself between Whisper and those weapons—
Lucien moved first.
“Don’t hurt her!” His hand snatched tight around mine and hauled me backward—placing me solidly behind him. Shielding me. Hiding me with his body as if his fear hadn’t been for his best friend but...for me.
My aching heart ignited with truth.
No matter what lies he said or tricks he used...this thing between us? This something we both didn’t want to name...was real.
He’d pulled me out of harm’s way. Protected me over his beloved panther. And nothing he said—no story he spun or lie he could weave—could change that.
He stiffened, realising what he’d done.
What he’d just revealed...to all of us.
My headache reached burnout levels.
God, I was an idiot.
But only because I’d doubted him when all I had to do was focus on the unexplainable bond between us. The crazy, incredible connection that couldn’t be faked.
My hand—still gripping the knife—pressed against his damp shirt. The blade snagged on cotton as I breathed in his heat, his violence, his unwanted admission that he cared.
He stiffened as if he didn’t want me touching him, then shuddered as I pressed my forehead to his spine.
Whatever game Lucien was playing, this moment was real. The night he’d killed Evelyn and Lydia to protect me. The days he’d pressed his wrist to my lips to give me his blood. The way he kissed me as if I’d stolen his very soul.
Those. Were. Real.
And if he needed me to help him win whatever battle he fought...so be it.
Pushing off him, I shifted to his side.
I tried to pull my hand from his—to continue the pantomime—but he just fisted me painfully tight. His jaw clenched as if he’d happily wring my neck if I tried to get away from him.
My vision continued to feather at the edges as a migraine made everything so much worse, but I stopped fighting and just waited. I waited for his next cue, ready to step up on stage with him and play whatever role he needed.