Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
With a hoarse cry, I slam my hands against his chest.
But he doesn’t budge.
Like stone absorbing a gust of wind, he takes it.
I rear back to strike again, and that’s when he grabs my wrists.
“You’re about to find yourself in trouble.” His grip tightens, eyes burning like he welcomes the fight.
And maybe he does.
Maybe he wants me angry.
“If you take me to the dungeon, you’ll lose leverage for your precious trip.”
“I didn’t say a thing about the dungeon.” His focus drops to my mouth.
The air thickens.
My breath stutters, but it isn’t fear pooling in my stomach.
It’s something far worse.
A ragged cry leaves me as I free myself from his grasp. He releases me without resistance, but he’s already one step ahead, winning the battle with his words.
“The trip is happening, Novalee. That’s not up for debate.”
“Liam won’t allow it.” I instill certainty into my voice, but the words ring hollow. “He’ll never give you permission.”
“The chancellor will do what’s necessary to keep you safe.”
He’s right, and that’s what guts me the most.
“Go to hell,” I shout, then storm toward the front entrance, my heels clicking against the marble. I don’t know where I’m going—I only know I can’t stand the sight of him a second longer. I wrench the door open and refuse to look back, even as his voice trails after me, smooth as silk.
“You can’t escape this.”
The door bangs shut behind me, and the sound ricochets through the foyer. My blood surges hot as the last ten minutes loop through my head.
Initiation offering.
Rare commodity.
No escape.
Just like the night Ford dangled me in front of Axel Ivermann, who later tried to…
Rape me.
The elevator stands in front of me, but I can’t bear to wait. I rush for the stairs, yanking the door open and charging upward, two steps at a time. Sharp gasps tear at my throat as the stairwell spins around me in a tornado of concrete, metal, and rage.
No footsteps follow. Did I slam the door in Astrid’s face? She must have been nearby, but in my blind fury, I can’t remember seeing her at all.
I don’t know how many flights I climb before my legs give out. Wheezing from the frantic ascent, I let my body move on instinct and push through the nearest exit.
Instantly, I recognize Sebastian’s floor.
I didn’t come here with intention. Somehow, my feet carried me to the one place I still belong. The air has an instant calming effect, infusing my lungs with the lingering scent of Sebastian’s oil paints and something that’s purely him.
I’m not the only one seeking comfort in his memory.
Lilith Astor sits slumped against his door, knees pulled to her chest. Dark hair falls in tangled waves around her shoulders, and her makeup is smudged, mascara tracking down her cheeks in black rivers.
I’ve never seen her like this, so disheveled, her designer clothes worn and wrinkled. As my pulse slows to normal, I close the distance and sink to the floor beside her.
Minutes pass as Lilith trembles, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Seeing her broken and human dissolves the last of my anger from the argument with Oliver.
We’ve never been close. She’s treated me like a rival from the start, but now we’re just two women sitting outside a door that won’t open, drowning in the same insurmountable grief.
Eventually, she lifts her eyes to mine, red-rimmed and swollen at the edges.
“I don’t know how to do this.” Her voice splinters as she lays a hand across the swell of her belly “Sebastian’s supposed to be here. You were supposed to raise her with him.”
I blink back tears. “It’s a girl?”
She nods, wiping at her face with trembling fingers, smearing the black streaks even more.
“I’m a disaster. I’ll make a terrible mother. I can’t do this without him.”
Empathy aches in my throat. “What about Vance?” I tiptoe the question out, testing the fragile ground of her complicated love life.
She gives a bitter laugh. “He won’t even look at me.”
“Because of the pregnancy?”
“Vance is…” The flutter of her wet lashes sends more moisture tracking down her cheeks.
“I hurt him too much. He’s prideful and possessive, not the kind of man you toy with and then ask to raise another man’s child.”
I recall the way they tore at each other on his birthday. He made me watch them that night, and yet I’d felt like an interloper, catching a glimpse of something volatile and private, a combustible coupling of two possessed souls.
“Have you asked him?”
“There’s no point.” She lets a beat pass. “We can’t marry. There’s no future for us.”
There’s so much I want to say. I could tell her she’s not as alone as she thinks she is.
Landon’s trying to redraw the lines, and if he, Liam, and the others succeed, the houses will finally be allowed to intermarry.
And then there’s the truth of all truths to break this delicate moment wide open…