Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
If limp-dick Kyle wasn’t such a Bitter Betty, I would know who I was about to face when I walked through its glamorous double doors, both decorated with stunning skeletal wreaths for spooky season. I rolled my shoulders and stepped up to them, trying the handle and finding it unlocked. I looked around and spotted another red dot blinking subtly from a corner. I offered the mysterious viewer a finger wave and a blown kiss before slipping inside.
The foyer that greeted me was breathtaking.
Someone had really done their due diligence in making this place fancy. The floor, a checkerboard of polished marble, echoed my every step as I ventured farther in. Sweeping staircases curved up toward the shadowy upper floors, their banisters polished to a dark sheen that reflected the flickering light from ornate sconces. What truly caught my attention were the framed portraits decorating the richly paneled walls with solemn dignity. Each canvas depicted a figure donned in a mask, the designs ranging from hauntingly beautiful to grotesquely bizarre, the visual speaking of history and familial legacies.
Serpine—a surname nearly as notorious as my own—was elegantly scripted beneath a portrait of a figure wearing a striking panda design that I recognized immediately. It wasn’t listed as Lucian directly, but I knew it was that beautifully dangerous man who had somehow ascended to this wall of legends prematurely.
I wouldn’t mind ascending him.
Azrael.
Astaroth.
Two more names that danced in the same devious circles as the Serpines, each paired with masks that seemed to snarl and smirk at the same time. Ciaran and Maverick’s family names were inscribed beneath other portraits, those of bloodied men and women with concealed faces. Also on the wall, which I was in no way surprised to find, was my grandfather.
Above the name Vetis, his painted face wore a mask that was as commanding as it was cryptic, framed by the legacy he had left behind for us to uphold and strengthen. I reveled in the watchful gazes, their eyes unseeing yet omnipresent. My brothers would be up there one day. My cousin would as well. So naturally, I was gunning for a spot too. I couldn’t let the men in the family get all the glory.
I looked away from the bloodied idols and frowned at the silence. Where the heck was everyone? I couldn’t be the first to arrive. As I debated between the urge to explore upwards or wander around this level, a faint peal of feminine laughter reached my ears. Decided, I veered left, bypassing the main staircase for a smaller, more inconspicuous set of steps that spiraled downward.
The staircase led to a long corridor that felt like a passage through time, its air thick with the musk of ancient wood. The hallway was dimly lit, bathed in the soft, flickering light from wall-mounted torches that cast eerie shadows along its length. At its end, frosted double doors loomed, their glass etched with swirls that seemed to pulse with secretive life. A quaint Welcome stand stood by the doors, like a harbinger of the twisted fun awaiting.
My heart pounded with an intoxicating combination of thrill and anticipation; this was the moment I’d been itching for.
I practically sprinted toward the doors, my boots tapping a determined beat on the marble floor. Every part of me buzzed with curiosity and a raw, eager edge, ready to size up the other contestants of Judicium.
Friends, foes, or thrillingly ambiguous allies?
I slowed and inhaled deeply, flung open the frosted doors, and strutted in. The hall that unfolded before me was even more magnificent than the one I’d just left behind, with chandeliers dangling from a lavishly paneled ceiling and arched doorways that promised mysteries beyond. The light danced on the polished floor, casting a spell over the entire room. The space fell eerily silent as I entered, like the pause before a storm. I savored the dramatic quiet, stepping in as if I owned the place.
Unfortunately, my glee couldn’t last long.
My gaze snagged on a familiar sight—Aisha. And right next to her, Hael Sinclair.
Why the hell were they here?
Chapter Four
My grin stayed firmly in place as I swept a charismatic glance across the room, my presence slicing through the thick tension like a hot knife through butter.
“Did I crash the party, or is this just y’all’s way of making a girl feel special?” I joked, my tone playfully accusatory with a hint of mock dismay. As I strolled farther in, my eyes flickered quickly from face to face, capturing each reaction to my entrance without lingering too long on anyone. This wasn’t just a greeting; it was a strategic appraisal of the room’s occupants, expressions and body language filed away for later analysis. Unlike myself, thanks to fleshlight Kyle, these lovely folks all knew I’d be here tonight. I didn’t know jack shit about who I would be encountering. I recognized a few people, though.