Unlike most of the women gathered in that ballroom, Romyknowsthe life beyond the veil—understands that the future they’ve painted isn’t exactly drawn to scale.
I don’t know how or why she knows—or if the fear she carries was instilled by her parents or born of natural instincts—but I hope with every fiber of my being she’ll carry it as close to the vest as possible until I figure out how to get us both out of this.
Until I figure out how to end the auction altogether.
“Hey!” one of the gofers responsible for security shouts, noticing us standing together for the first time.
They don’t want the men and women mingling yet, for fear that it’ll place some sort of doubt in a woman’s mind about the man who picks her. That she’ll fret over not being picked by someone else. That it’ll expose this whole mess for what it is and cause a rebellion.
The Council may be in control of this situation, but what they are not is invincible.
They need volunteers. They need participation. Maybe not as a whole, but at least in part, because to take an entire group of women by force would be remarkably harder.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s something to that I can use.
When Romy and I don’t move immediately, the security guard stalks toward us, his mouth moving as he, no doubt, makes a report to someone in a higher position. The last thing I want to do is call more attention to Romy—and make no mistake, there is already extra attention on me—so even though it kills me, I clear my throat to prepare myself and then send her away.
I haven’t had the chance to explain. Or to find some way to convince her I’m here as a mercenary behind enemy lines. Or that the boy she knew is still inside me.
She fears me still, but there’s no time to make it right.
“You’d better get back in there.”
I want to say more—to put her at easesomehow. But I know nothing I could say in the span of two seconds would help.
To promise to see her again would be a threat.
To offer conspiratorial unease with no explanation would only build her own.
Turning swiftly, I make my way to the stairs as she heads for the ballroom, and I don’t turn around to double-check. The jolting shock of distance away from her—from my fated mate—makes me feels almost as painful as when Lucian’s power of agony took me to my fucking knees.
But my ears never leave her. I can hear her exchange with the guard, and every single part of it puts my teeth on edge.
“Get back inside, please. There’s to be no mingling with the men without permission.”
“I was just saying hello to an old friend whom I was surprised to see. I’m sorry.”
Fuck.An old friend.I can’t blame her for sharing a secret she didn’t know to keep, but it’s unfortunate, nonetheless. I have no doubts I’ll need to be even more alert now—that my uncle and God knows who else from the Council will be watching the two of us interact even more closely.
If I’m not careful, she’ll quickly become their next target for my weakness.
My uncle’s eyes find my face as soon as I enter the ballroom and head for the bar. While the bartender pours my bourbon, I scan the rest of the room to test the level of both interest and distrust.
Nathanial, Cassian, and Ronan—the other three Wrath brothers—stand at the glass like the rest of the older elites, far tooabsorbed in their own appraisal of the women below to notice anything else happening in the room.
Most of the men their age are the same.
Which isn’t exactly surprising. Any vampire who finds himself back here at their advanced age—needing to purchase another woman after whatever he did to the last one—clearly isn’t known for restraint or conscience.
The thought alone leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
The younger elites are a different story. Many of them watch me openly, their eyes flicking over my suit, my posture, my background—judging every inch of my presence here without even attempting to hide it.
If I open my mind to the noise of it, I can hear the assumptions forming in real time. Speculation about why my uncle brought me here. What role I’m meant to play.
But the most surprising part of it all? None of them actually seems to know.
Assumptions they’ve made?Aplenty.But real information?That’s largely lacking among the entire crowd.
