Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Come on.” Daniel pushes open his door. “You better get the pool house ready if you don't want him and Parker to kill each other.”
My hand flies out to stop him before he can leave. “What do you mean?” I'd noticed it over the past year. Had Daniel too? I'd be dead if it wasn't for Daniel, or worse.
His smile dies. “It's my job to observe, Ivanya.”
Oh. Right. Of course.
I release his arm and slump back in my chair. He’s right. This is going to be a long four weeks.
***
I stare at my phone. No new text.
Why didn't Asher mention he was coming? I stopped answering when his messages shrank to single words, but four weeks in Veilarath? That's worth a heads-up.
I check my phone for the fifth time. Still no text.
Why Would he come back to Veilarath and not tell me?
Memories flash through my brain, all of which include the first year of us together. The friendship we shared. The way he made me feel. Maybe it was boredom from my mundane marriage, or maybe it was some deep-rooted trauma I unearthed without realizing, but whatever it is, it has me clutching my phone like a fucking emergency device. As if it holds all the answers to my questions.
It doesn’t vibrate.
It doesn't light up with a text.
There's a loud rasp on the front door, and I stop my pacing in front of the fireplace, the whiskey in my glass long since warmed.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Hey!” Punk's loud greeting can be heard from the other side of Mount Crow before the door clicks closed again and three bodies round the entrance.
Asher's eyes come to mine and my stomach twists with weight it's been carrying since he turned weird. “Venom.”
I drain the whiskey, now warm as blood, and step forward when another body slides in behind him.
She flashes a wide smile, showcasing her white teeth. “Wow. This is a beautiful house.”
My eyes fly between her and Asher. Something cold unfurls in my chest.
“Ivy, this is my—”
“Fiancée.” The girl thrusts her hand forward, diamond catching the firelight. She’s all model-thin and expensive clothes.
I take her hand, forcing the shock down my throat. “Nice to meet you?”
She looks between Asher and me, insulted. “Camille. Wait, Asher hasn't mentioned me?”
“Camille.” I gesture toward the kitchen. “Welcome, and no, I don't believe he has.”
She drifts away without another word, gravitating toward Parker. Of course. She probably already knew him, since he is Asher's friend. Thought he was my best friend but whatever…
Asher’s jaw tenses. Almost two years of friendship. Of late-night texts and inside jokes and him knowing exactly which whiskey I stock.
Fiancée.
“And you must be At—” I pivot to the twin, letting my gaze rake over him. “—let?”
His mouth quirks. Amused. “Atlas.”
“Right.” I snap my fingers, stepping away from them. Distance. Always distance. “Didn't know Asher had a brother.”
I claim the sofa furthest away, desperate to put as much distance between us. I feel sick.
“Ah, that's Asher. The secretive one.” Atlas winks playfully at his brother before joining me in the living room.
“Thank you for letting us crash here.” Atlas smacks Punk's ass as she makes her way to the corner bar.
“You're welcome. We have space. Daniel!” I call out, turning over my shoulder for my driver.
Daniel is a man of few words, but when his eyes lock onto Asher, I don’t miss the seconds that they both stare at each other.
“Can you grab their bags, please?” I interrupt, turning back to the group with a forced smile, only to find that when I'm back on Asher, he's placing a kiss on Camille's temple, his eyes closed and his jaw tight.
My stomach plummets. Ugly, feral jealousy claws its way up my throat. I'm human. Most would say a tough one, but right now, I feel like less than nothing.
Camille giggles, and leaves through the kitchen. The second she's out of earshot, Asher drops onto the sofa beside me and my whole body tenses.
His arm sprawls across the back. One of my closest friends just waltzed in with a secret fiancée I knew nothing about.
“Camille seems nice.” I angle toward him, doing what I do best.
He catches my stare, sinking deeper into the cushions and spreading his knees wide. “Yeah.”
“Asher.” The whisper scrapes out of me. I know he fucking hears me, but his eyes stay locked on the fireplace, jaw working overtime. “Why didn't you text me back? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”
“I thought I did?” He pitches forward, tension rippling through his shoulders. Even just sitting beside me, he’s a mountain. He’s like this house. Absorbs all the light in this world and reflects nothing but darkness back. “You knew the Winter Games were here. Remember?”
He's right. I did.
My mouth falls open a little. I wasn’t meaning that, I was talking about his fiancée.