Laughing, I reply, “So you’re prepared for the beat down he’s going to give you for still fighting your obvious feelings forhisangel?”
A blond brow arches in my direction as his lips twist.Oh, a direct hit.
“What, you don’t like being called on your bullshit? You’re always dishing it— take it for once,” I quip.
The asshole is constantly giving directives about what we should be doing or how we should be honest with ourselves, and here he is.
Continuing to poke fun, I jest, “Don’t you think you should take your own advice, Yoda?”
The guys break out in laughter, and even he chuckles before replying. “Ariah is amazing, and I’ll treat her like the queen she is, but what you all have with her,” Sebastian pauses, leaning his head back to stare up at the ceiling. His wheat hair, uncharacteristically not styled, falls away from his eyes before he speaks, “But love isn’t in the cards for me ever again.”
I go to rebuff his asinine statement when there’s a buzz in my pocket, indicating I have a notification. Pulling the device from my pocket, I see it’s a text message.
Opening it, I see a video file attachment with a message. Reading the message, my jaw clenches, and I squeeze my phone, nearly cracking it before I hit play. When I see what’s playing, I immediately hit stop before any noise can be heard.
Schooling my features, I announce, “Emergency meeting. We have to make our choice now.”
“What do you mean, we’re making our selection now? I thought we were waiting on Owen?” Wyatt’s puzzled gaze probes mine.
“His choice is Ariah. So are ours. Let’s go make it happen so we can be done with this bullshit Selection process,” I state, rising from my seat and heading for the door, ignoring their questions as I send word to our fathers to alert the girls we’ve made our decision.
* * *
She’s here—Ariah.Damn, she’s so fucking beautiful.Her blue-black hair hangs in waves loosely down her back. Blush pink lips pull up in a smile as she takes us in.
“What’s going on? Why are we meeting here?” she inquires.
Before I can answer her, my dad interjects, “The boys have made their decision.”
Varying looks line the faces of each girl— the three that remain. Four girls have been murdered since the start of the Selection. If our fathers hadn’t been able to end Elise and Madeline, I’m sure more would’ve met the same fate.
I take in the room.
Brittany’s face is lined with a mixture of apprehension and resignation because she knows she’s not even in the running. She’s ready to be done with this farce. Samantha has her usual overly confident smug grin plastered on like she knows the outcome before it happens, while Ariah is confused.
“Why are we doing this now instead of next weekend?” Ariah asks.
They’ve all put so much work into the culminating event, the engagement announcement party, the societal event of the year.
“We know who we want, and it doesn’t make sense to prolong the process another week. The event will just be a formality. We want to stop having to go out and string girls along who’ll never be Fraternitas wife material,” I reply. Then, looking directly in Sam’s direction, I continue, “Why should we pretend when the person we want has been right here all along? The rest of you are worthless, and only one of you was ever worthy of becoming our Chosen.”
My glare makes her confident posture stiffen for a fraction of a second, her polished demeanor cracking before her plastic air of confidence cements itself into her filler-injected face.
I’m surprised it was able to move at all.
“Oh, okay. That makes sense,” she hesitates, then takes her place in line with the rest of the girls.
“To fulfill the last rite into the Fraternitas, the original male heir must select a bride when they come of age. But five original bloodline male heirs must come together every five generations to choose one wife, ensuring the continuation of a strong original bloodline,” my father begins.
He wasn’t originally on board with doing this now. However, I relayed our grievances over continuing in a long courtship process when we haven’t gone on a single date since our first ones with any of the girls, except Ariah.
Pulling the black cube-shaped box from his pinstriped suit pocket, he hands it to me and continues, “Wesley as the original head male heir, you are charged with proposing. Who have you all selected to be your bride?”
I step forward, taking the box from his hand and turning to face the girls. Then, clearing my throat, I announce, “We, the heirs of Edgewood, in our last act before becoming full members of the Fraternitas select,” I open the box to the sparkling princess-cut four-carat diamond centered on a platinum band lined with four two-carat stones. “Samantha—.”
I don’t finish my words before chaos erupts. A fist flies at my face just before I see Ariah run from the room, a hand covering her mouth and tears streaming down her face.
“Ariah, I’m so-,” but it’s too late. She’s gone.
