Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
One who takes. One who lies. One who thinks he’s above everyone and everything.
I can’t remember a moment when I’ve longed for simpler times of childhood, but right now, I do. I long for a time in the past when Romy Spencer and I were attached at the hip and things like humans and vampires and bloodlines and class systems were never discussed.
A time when innocence was at the foundation of everything.
Everything inside me wants to throw her over my shoulder and run her straight out of this fucking nightmare. Truthfully, my body is strongly championing for it and I have to clench my hands into fists just to keep my composure.
Now isn’t the time to fuck up. Not only would I be risking my brothers’ and their mates’ lives, I’d be risking hers too. And fuck me, I wouldn’t be able to handle that.
Romy might be clueless about what she means to me—that she’s managed to become the equivalent of my entire world in what feels like a nanosecond and an eternity at the same time—but every cell inside my body is aware.
“But…I didn’t… Cal…” She pauses, her voice shaking as it breaks.
She knows exactly why I’m here and the monster it makes me, even if it confuses the memories she has of me as a kid. She knows. I can feel it in the tremble of her hands and the way her heart races and her breaths come out stilted. And I see it written all over her face.
Unlike most of the women gathered in that ballroom, Romy knows the life beyond the veil—understands that the future they’ve painted isn’t exactly drawn to scale.
I don’t know how or why she knows—or if the fear she carries was instilled by her parents or born of natural instincts—but I hope with every fiber of my being she’ll carry it as close to the vest as possible until I figure out how to get us both out of this.
Until I figure out how to end the auction altogether.
“Hey!” one of the gofers responsible for security shouts, noticing us standing together for the first time.
They don’t want the men and women mingling yet, for fear that it’ll place some sort of doubt in a woman’s mind about the man who picks her. That she’ll fret over not being picked by someone else. That it’ll expose this whole mess for what it is and cause a rebellion.
The Council may be in control of this situation, but what they are not is invincible.
They need volunteers. They need participation. Maybe not as a whole, but at least in part, because to take an entire group of women by force would be remarkably harder.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s something to that I can use.
When Romy and I don’t move immediately, the security guard stalks toward us, his mouth moving as he, no doubt, makes a report to someone in a higher position. The last thing I want to do is call more attention to Romy—and make no mistake, there is already extra attention on me—so even though it kills me, I clear my throat to prepare myself and then send her away.
I haven’t had the chance to explain. Or to find some way to convince her I’m here as a mercenary behind enemy lines. Or that the boy she knew is still inside me.
She fears me still, but there’s no time to make it right.
“You’d better get back in there.”
I want to say more—to put her at ease somehow. But I know nothing I could say in the span of two seconds would help.
To promise to see her again would be a threat.
To offer conspiratorial unease with no explanation would only build her own.
Turning swiftly, I make my way to the stairs as she heads for the ballroom, and I don’t turn around to double-check. The jolting shock of distance away from her—from my fated mate—makes me feels almost as painful as when Lucian’s power of agony took me to my fucking knees.
But my ears never leave her. I can hear her exchange with the guard, and every single part of it puts my teeth on edge.
“Get back inside, please. There’s to be no mingling with the men without permission.”
“I was just saying hello to an old friend whom I was surprised to see. I’m sorry.”
Fuck. An old friend. I can’t blame her for sharing a secret she didn’t know to keep, but it’s unfortunate, nonetheless. I have no doubts I’ll need to be even more alert now—that my uncle and God knows who else from the Council will be watching the two of us interact even more closely.
If I’m not careful, she’ll quickly become their next target for my weakness.
My uncle’s eyes find my face as soon as I enter the ballroom and head for the bar. While the bartender pours my bourbon, I scan the rest of the room to test the level of both interest and distrust.