I kept my mouth closed as I rubbed her back. “Wait, right before he claimed his aura? That meant he was dressing up for you that night.”
“What do you mean?” Jade asked.
I looked at her. “Did you not know why he got thrown into Blood Court?”
SEVENTY-FOUR
5 YEARS AGO
LAUREL
“You’re in a good mood,” I said as Jule stepped past me into my bedroom.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, handing me a bottle of wine. “Dear Old Dad’s out of town, so we’re free to get tipsy and pretty.”
“Pretty? Is there a special occasion?”
“Why does there need to be an occasion?” He had already crossed to my closet and was looking through my dresses. “I saw that Silverlight dress you got last month, and it was made for me, bitch.”
“I actually did get it for you,” I admitted. “There’s no way I’d pull it off.”
He beamed and threw his arms around me, squeezing me half to death. “Did I ever tell you you’re my second-favourite person?”
“Wait, what?” I said. “Who took my first-place spot?”
“That’s reserved for myself, of course,” he said with a smirk, turning back to the clothes.
Jule came out of the closet, carrying the dress and laying it on the bed with a happy sigh. “It’s perfect. Not too fancy or too casual,” he said, sitting next to it on the bed.
“Okay, do my face,” he said, and I settled in as I started his makeup. When we were done, he went into the bathroom to do his hair and put on the dress. “Oh, I have a present for you,” he sang. “Come over here.”
I stepped inside the bathroom, leaving the door open a bit to my bedroom. He unstrapped something from his leg, holding it out. It was a thigh holster, complete with a small pistol. I snatched it from his hands with a gasp.
“I love it,” I said, pulling it out to examine it.
“Now we’ll match,” he said brightly, showing me a similar one on his leg, though his held a blade instead of a gun. He showed me how to strap it against my thigh. It felt strange but comforting to have its weight against my skin.
He’d combed his hair back, creating a sleek look, and picked up the gown.
It was a simple dark blue dress with long sleeves. The top was soft, and it had a cutaway waist, connecting the top and bottom with just a crisscross of fabric before flowing to a breezy skirt. I helped Jule into it, and then we both examined him in the mirror. His expression had settled into that happy, contented look he got when he actually got to dress how he wanted.
“I wish I had my ears pierced,” he said wistfully. “This dress is just begging for jewelry.”
“You look stunning,” I said, and he reached out and squeezed my hand. “We could get your ears pierced after we leave. It’ll be the first thing we do.”
“Yeah, right after my chest tattoo that says, Fuck my dad. Please.”
I burst into laughter, and he raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not joking.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Come on, let's go pick a necklace.”
We walked back into my bedroom, and I stopped. It was quiet in here now—I hadn’t remembered turning the radio off.
I heard Jule swallow beside me and turned to see my father standing up from my armchair. My blood turned to ice as I took a step backward. My eyes flicked toward the exit, but two of his men were standing by the door.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?” my father said, clasping his arms behind his back. “By all means, carry on with what you were doing. What was it, picking a necklace?”
