Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Thirty-six hours before the execution
Fuck it, Domenico thought. His brother’s honor could go to hell. He was not going to stand by and do nothing while Alessandro’s life was on the line.
Snatching his phone from the table, he made a call to Kassia, whose number he had in his possession the moment his security team had discovered her relationship with Domenico’s brother.
Kassia answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?” Her voice was wide-awake and dead at the same time, and Domenico took comfort from it. If she was still bothered about Alessandro’s actions last night, then that was a very good thing.
“This is Domenico, Ms. Summers.”
Kassia jerked up to a sitting position on her bed, unable to comprehend why one of the greatest werewolf princes in the world would have a need to talk to her. Surely it wasn’t to plead the professor’s case?
“I apologize for intruding on your time, but I have an urgent need to speak with you about Alessandro.”
So her suspicions were right, Kassia thought. Strangely, she was disappointed by it. She had thought the professor was better than this. Wasn’t this proof he wasn’t the man she believed he was?
“Ms. Summers?” Domenico asked tensely when the silence lengthened on the other end of the line.
Kassia swallowed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s right that you’re the one talking to me about...us.”
“I know that,” Domenico surprised her by acknowledging. “However, these are special circumstances, and I’m simply not the type to do nothing when a member of my family’s life is at stake.”
Kassia blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand—-”
“When my brother confessed to you in the presence of all members of our race,” Domenico told her tightly, “he took a very great risk. We are only allowed to speak the truth about our race’s existence to two types of humans—-”
She remembered the professor’s earlier warnings and said jerkily, “I k-know. He told me about that.”
“Good. Because when you left him hanging, your actions placed his head on the chopping block.”
Shock warred with betrayal. Was Domenico truly saying the truth? What if he was in this with the professor and the Moretti brothers were men who simply loved playing cruel pranks on naïve human girls like her?
“Ms. Summers, my brother was given forty-eight hours to send our Council proof that your loyalty is with us. If he fails, they will try to execute him and force us into war.”
She knew what she was hearing, but still the doubts persisted. Once burned, twice shy, the saying went, but for Kassia, it was more than that. She was tired of trying to figure out where she stood, tired of guessing whether people were telling her the truth or not.
Love was supposed to be simple and sweet, not painful and complicated. Wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she heard herself say. She was proud at the way her voice remained steady throughout. “I just c-can’t make myself believe you. The Professor’s played with me too many times.” Kassia’s fingers tightened around her phone as she readied both mind and heart for her last words. “I d-don’t want to have anything to do about him again.” She ended the call without waiting for the werewolf prince to answer.
On the other end of the line, Domenico stared for a long hard moment at his phone before slowly slipping it into his pocket. He closed his eyes, and the image of his wife drifted in his mental vision.
Misty, what do I do now?
What you always do best, his wife lovingly answered.
Domenico’s fists clenched against his sides. So be it, he thought. He believed in Alessandro. If his brother had faith in the human girl’s love for him, so be it. However, he refused to be idle. There had to be contingencies in place, and his decision made, the werewolf prince prepared for war.
Chapter Ten
Kassia chewed at her lip indecisively while staring at her phone. She had been doing this for ten full minutes now, ever since she had put the phone down on Domenico in fact. God. So. Stupid.
The more time passed, the clearer it became to her that her words had been prompted purely by hurt pride. God. So. Petty. The strength of her feelings for the professor again reduced her mental vocabulary into nothing, and when she realized she was already crying, she furiously wiped the tears away.
She had said those things to make her sound strong and in control for once, but it hadn’t made her happy at all. Instead, it had turned her into a churning mass of fear because at the back of her mind, a panicky voice was telling her it was not like the professor or his older, world-weary brother, Domenico Moretti, to joke about life and death. Such actions were childish, and for all the professor’s faults, he had never been immature in that sense.