Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 31800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
When Lykan finally lifts his head, I’m staring down at him with dazed eyes, my lips parted as I struggle to catch my breath.
His mouth is wet from me, his hair disheveled from my hands, and the look of pure male satisfaction on his face...
Oh...oh my goodness.
I only start coming back to my senses when the limo slows down, and I realize in panic that we’ve arrived at the airport...while my panties are still on the floor, and oh my gosh, I cannot go out like this!
“Lykan—” I’m really freaking out now. “I must look—”
“Perfect.”
“Uh no, I—”
I...
I forget what I’m saying, with Lykan grabbing a fistful of my hair as he pulls me close for a deep, toe-curling kiss, and when he finally lifts his head, I’m once again breathless, restless, and mindless.
What was I worried about again?
Ten minutes earlier
Sharasa’s royal jet is...
Unbelievable.
I mean, Air Force One is one of my favorite comfort movies, so this...
This is just...
Is there any word that conveys more shock than ‘unbelievable’?
I don’t even know where to start, and I know I thought this earlier, but I mean it this time.
Nothing
Whatever anyone can imagine, this jet tops it, and it’s just...it just makes me feel dizzier. I haven’t even properly processed what just happened between Lykan and me in the limo. Or all of Grandma Jackie’s sage words before that. And now this...this overwhelming sense of luxury that I know will now be a part of my life, for better and for worse.
It comes with the territory as Lykan’s wife, and I just don’t know—
“Scarlette...”
—if I’m imagining that voice I just heard or I’ve completely lost my mind, so you know what?
I’m just going to turn around, and...WHOA!
My heart stutters in shock, which I know sounds poetic...even as my jaw drops, which I also know doesn’t sound quite as elegant.
“V-Vaughn?”
Am I airsick? Is this what it is? Am I hallucinating because—
He takes a step forward.
And another.
And another.
Until he’s right in front of me, and he’s close enough to touch my hand—
WHOA!
I jump back when the reality of his touch hits me.
He’s real.
How can he be real...and here?
“I was hoping you’d be a lot happier to see me.”
The faint accusation in his tone is unmistakable, and my confusion only grows.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
How strangely confident he sounds.
I start shaking my head. “You don’t understand. Lykan—”
“Arav’s with him now,” Vaughn dismisses, “explaining things.”
How does Vaughn know who Arav is?
“Can we talk about us for a moment?” Vaughn presses.
“There’s no us—”
“Because you’re married, right? But we can fix that—”
“There’s nothing to fix,” I protest. “I’m married—-”
“But you don’t have to stay married,” Vaughn snaps. “That’s what I’m trying to say if you’d only let me finish—”
Lykan strides inside at that moment, and Vaughn’s words come to an abrupt stop as my husband’s dominating presence immediately fills the room.
Something’s wrong.
I can see it in the way his handsome face has hardened into ice—
“May I present your elder brother, Vaughn Fuller?”
—just as Arav’s words make me realize I was wrong.
I stand corrected, actually.
Because apparently, there’s something more shocking than Lykan believing in God—
And that’s also God deciding to turn the two men in my life into...brothers?
“Since we’re all here—”
The pompousness in Vaughn’s tone catches me off guard. He’s never spoken like this before. Never.
“I think now’s a good time as any to make my intentions clear.”
And it has me staring at him like I’m besotted, but actually, it’s more like I’m dumbfounded. Becase honestly...where does he find the confidence? Like, seriously.
“In the laws of Sharasa—”
Why is he acting like the world has somehow changed, and it’s Lykan who’s the pauper—
“The firstborn has the right to claim any woman as his, even if she’s married to someone else.”
Lykan
“May I remind all parties that these minutes are being recorded in strict adherence to official protocol for every discourse between members of the royal family.”
Nadir’s voice is crisp, professional, as his pen hovers over the leather-bound ledger. The secretary’s dark eyes remain fixed on his notes, refusing to acknowledge the tension crackling through the conference room like a live wire.
I sit motionless, my expression likely as hard as the slab of granite that a Sharasan sculptor has artfully turned into a table for twelve and has since been installed in the royal jet.
But inside, I’m fucking reeling.
One of my secret dreams since childhood was having a sibling. Any sibling. Someone who understood what it meant to carry royal blood, to live with the weight of a crown you never asked for. Someone who could stand beside me instead of behind me.
But why did it have to be him?
Why did it have to be Vaughn fucking Fuller?
My gaze slides to Scarlette, seated rigidly beside me. Every line of her body screams tension, her spine straight as a blade, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin, smell the faint trace of her perfume mixed with something sharper.