Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Only Devon and I eat food, so…who the fuck else is joining us?
Regardless, I change into a blue and white dress and take my hair out of the tight French braid it’s been in all day, using my fingers to brush through the waves. The automatic locks on my door never clicked into place, but I know better than to try and make a run for it…yet.
I try every door and window on my way downstairs. They are all locked and any exposed window has a metal blind locked into place. This house was definitely custom made for vampires. The smell of food fills the air as I make my way down and into the kitchen.
“Wren,” Devon says, looking up from the kitchen island where he’s sitting with a drink in front of him. He picks up his glass and finishes it then motions for me to follow him into the formal dining room. The kitchen is stocked just like a regular kitchen, and I make a note of the knife block on the counter.
“She’s late,” Xavier growls when we walk into the room. Devon is in front of me, blocking my direct line of sight. But I can sense a room full of vampires. “You chose her, you train her.”
“Right,” I snap without even thinking. “You can’t hold me spellbound.” Devon steps to the side and I see four vampires in front of me. I slowly inhale, trying to keep my pulse from quickening. They can hear it. “And if you think you’re going to train me like a dog, I’ll show you what a bitch I can be.” My eyes go immediately to Xavier, who is sitting at the head of the table. There’s a single crystal goblet in front of him, and if I didn’t know any better, I would think it was full of red wine. But he’s a vampire, and he doesn’t drink anything but blood.
His dark blue eyes latch to my gaze, and my heart flutters inside my chest, much to my chagrin. I hate the way he looks at me as if he can see right through me and is staring at my soul. And I hate it even more that I like feeling naked in front of him. Because for some strange reason, there’s something magnetic about him, like he’s a dark, moonlight trail that cuts through the thick forest. You know you shouldn’t take it, because eventually the moonlight is filtered out by all the trees, but you’re dying to know where it might lead.
“Well, isn’t she the bee's knees,” a female vampire seated at the table says. Sucking in a breath, I look at her. She’s wearing a simple blue sundress and her blonde hair hangs in loose curls around her shoulders. Her skin, pale even before death, has an almost gray tinge to it, but there’s no denying her beauty. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Her eyes are bright and she smiles, looking from me to Devon and back again.
“Mable, darling,” the vampire next to her starts. His tone is soft and he puts his hand on top of hers. He’s older, by a century or so. I can tell by the energy he’s giving off.
“Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket, Zeke!” Mable goes on. She has a transatlantic accent I’ve only heard in old-timey movies. “We should get to know our future sister-in-law!”
Silence falls over the room and I blink, waiting for someone to laugh and tell her that’s a funny thing to call me. “Wait a minute…what? I’m not your sister-in-law.”
Mable beams and claps her hands together. “Not yet, silly goose. You’re getting married!”
CHAPTER 9
“Please, take your seat.” Devon pulls out a chair for me but I stand there, rooted to the spot. I’m marrying someone? What the fuck? It has to be Devon. After all, the man is supposed to knock me up with the next generation’s future vampire spawn.
But I swear the vampire named Mabel looked at Xavier when she spoke.
“Please,” Devon says again and I see the strain on his face. Swallowing my apprehension—and reminding myself that since I can’t be held spellbound, harsher measures will be taken—I sit next to Devon. We’re on the side of a large table, across from Mabel and the vampire she called Zeke. Like Devon, he has a slight resemblance to Xavier, as does the vampire next to him. They’re both dressed business casual, in dark pants and button up shirts.
“This is Florence,” Devon says and pushes my chair in behind me. Silence still fills the room, and the ticking of a fancy grandfather clock echoes loudly with each empty second.
“Why does she smell different than the others?” Mabel tips her head like a dog does when it hears the word “walk”.
“She’s a witch,” Xavier explains, leaning back. He looks both amused and annoyed and he lets out a heavy sigh, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken threat to Devon.