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)
“Fascinating.” He returned to his desk, and I caught a glimpse of something almost hungry in his expression. “And you achieved this breakthrough using your stepbrother as a test subject.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face at his words.
“The pairing data was submitted with participant names attached,” he continued conversationally. “Maryah Gray and Nicolo Celestini. 98.7% compatibility. Alpha bond potential confirmed.”
Beside me, Ada made a strangled noise.
“Your Highness,” I began, but he held up a hand.
“I’m not here to judge your personal relationships, Miss Gray. I’m here because a compatibility score that high between a human and an alpha represents a potential shift in how our communities interact. If your system can reliably predict perfect matches, it could change everything.”
“Or it could be a fluke,” I said weakly.
“Perhaps. Which is why you’re going to continue your testing under my team’s supervision.”
My stomach dropped. “I’m sorry?”
“Voluntary compliance with our monitoring protocols,” he said, producing a leather folder from his desk drawer. “In exchange, you’ll receive my race’s full support, wherever and whenever you may need it.”
“And if I refuse?”
His smile was sharp enough to cut glass, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of something wild and dangerous beneath the civilized exterior—the stallion shifter prince who’d inherited the ruthlessness of Atlantis along with its beauty.
“Then we’ll be having a very different conversation about unauthorized supernatural research and potential threats to community stability.”
I stared at the folder, my mind racing. This wasn’t just about my business anymore. This was about the 98.7% compatibility score, about me and Nicolo, about things I wasn’t ready to face.
“I need time to consider this,” I said.
“Of course.” He slid the folder across the desk. “You have until tomorrow evening to make your decision.”
The meeting was clearly over. Prince Alexei stood, and we followed suit, Ada practically vibrating with nervous energy.
“Oh, and Miss Gray?” he said as we reached the door.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe in coincidences. Especially not when they involve compatibility scores that rewrite everything we thought we knew about pair bonding.”
The drive back down the mountain was silent except for Ada’s occasional whimpers. The folder sat on my passenger seat like a live bomb, and I could feel the weight of tomorrow’s deadline pressing down on my shoulders.
Finally, as we reached the normal roads again, Ada spoke.
“So,” she said in a very small voice. “On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble are we in?”
I thought about the 98.7% compatibility score. About Nicolo’s hands on my skin and his voice saying “I like you.” About Prince Alexei’s penetrating stare and his talk of paradigm shifts.
“Fifteen,” I said. “We’re at about a fifteen.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Should I update my resume?”
“Not yet, Ada. But maybe keep it handy.”
Because something told me things were about to get much, much worse before they got better.
Chapter Five
Family dinners at the Celestini mansion were like a cross between a diplomatic summit and a really expensive therapy session where everyone secretly wanted to murder the therapist. All of us dressed in our nicest casual-but-not-too-casual clothes, spoke in carefully modulated tones, and pretended we weren’t all dancing around a conversational minefield disguised as small talk.
Tonight was no different, except for the part where I was internally combusting over my meeting with literal Atlantis royalty while trying to act like I’d spent the afternoon doing totally normal, non-life-altering things.
“Pass the asparagus, dear,” my mother said, her voice carrying that particular lilt she used when she was fishing for information. Maude Gray-Celestini had perfected the art of maternal interrogation during her forty-three years on this planet, and marrying into a shifter family had only sharpened her skills to near-preter levels.
I passed the asparagus and tried not to look at Nicolo, who was sitting across from me looking like a magazine ad for “Brooding Alpha Monthly.” He’d changed out of his work clothes into a simple black sweater that clung to his shoulders in ways that should have been illegal ever since That Day when humans discovered just how dangerous preters could be. His dark hair was still slightly messed from running his hands through it.
Which he did when he was thinking.
Which he’d been doing a lot since I’d gotten home.
And that was never, ever a good sign.
“How was your day, Maryah?” Milano Celestini asked from the head of the table. Nicolo’s father was one of those men who commanded attention just by existing, like gravity had a special setting just for alphas. Retired from active pack leadership but still carrying himself like he could level a small city if properly motivated. His hair was silver now, but his eyes were the same penetrating green as his son’s.
“Fine,” I said, cutting my chicken into unnecessarily small pieces like I was performing an autopsy. “Just the usual business stuff. Meetings. Paperwork. You know.”