Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
A banquet where we’ll be tied together for life? No, thanks. Hanging back, I say, “Gaia said my biological parents were from a different kingdom in Zerra. You have to admit it sounds farfetched. There’s no way I’m an Alit and your mate. I mean—”
“Gaia is right,” he says without missing a beat. “I was told you died in an accident.” His expression darkens. He doesn’t even try to hide the savage anger that burns in his gaze. “As it turns out, someone sent you to Earth when you were just a baby, so you’re indeed an Alit and my mate. It’s all very logical, my sweet.” His voice drops an octave. “When I have proof of who sent you there, the guilty party will pay.”
Uh-huh. I picture the Phaelix melting away and suppress a shudder. Also, his so-called logic has zero evidence behind it. Either way… “Let’s say what you say is true and I was sent to Earth as a baby. We still don’t know each other. This isn’t my world. Don’t you see? I don’t belong here.”
“Your place is at my side, Laliss,” he says in a measured tone, gripping my hand in a firm hold. “And in my bed.”
I yank my hand from his. “You’re not listening to me. I’m Elsie, not Laliss, and I’m not sleeping with you, tonight or ever.”
The line of his jaw hardens. “It’s going to happen. It’s inevitable.”
“Don’t you get it?” I glare at him. “I’m sure you’re used to having women at your feet with a flick of your fingers, but I don’t want you.”
As I speak, a deep unease twists inside me, just like when I lie to deceive my parents into thinking that I’m fine.
An unfriendly smile curves his lips. “Careful. My patience has limits, even with my mate.” Something that seems a lot like retribution gleams with a dark promise in his eyes. “When the time comes, your body will overrule your mind. You will succumb to my advances whether you want to or not.” His look is calculated. “But don’t worry, my sweet, I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment.”
I feel like hitting him over the head with one of the heavy boxes the women left behind. My dark fantasy hasn’t reached its conclusion yet—where he lies unconscious on the floor—before he encircles my arm with his strong fingers and gently but firmly pulls me toward the exit.
“Come,” he says. “Our guests are already gathered in the banquet hall, and I’ve waited a very long time for this.”
I stumble next to him, struggling to keep up with his long strides as he guides me through a broad hallway and down a spiral staircase. At the bottom, we walk through a narrower hallway lit by those strange lights that seem to come from within the stones. The light flares up around us and dies down again as we advance, not only effectively lighting our way but also making it seem as if the walls are pulsing with an inner life.
At a double wooden door, we stop. Aruan pushes it open with one hand while grasping my arm securely in the other.
The thick doors swing outward to reveal a large, vaulted hall brimming with people. Long tables and benches run along the length of the room. There’s not an empty place at the tables. Women in long, gorgeous gowns and men in tunics are squeezed in so tightly that their elbows are touching.
The chatter dies down. All eyes turn toward us.
In the silence that follows, Aruan leads me into the room. The men who guarded me in his quarters are stationed on either side of the steps leading down into the hall. A few more filter in behind us while four men line up in front us. We’re surrounded by guards on all sides. Aruan must be a prominent figure if he takes security this seriously.
I swallow hard as he ushers me down the stairs. The people in the hall follow our every move with their gazes.
At the end of the hall, a table set with silver and crystalware stands on a raised platform. The man at the head of the table watches us with hawk-like scrutiny as we make our way down the aisle that separates the crammed benches. Like Kian, Vitai, and Gaia, he has hair the color of molasses and eyes like the silver water of a frosty lake. The resemblance between him and Aruan is uncanny, but his face is rougher and more angular. The harsh lines of his features are carved deeply on his face. His expression is mostly neutral but not enough to hide the hint of hostility shining through the stern intensity of the stare he directs at me. His black coat is embroidered in red and silver like Aruan’s. Judging by the silver wreath in the shape of a dragon with polished black stones for eyes that rests like a crown on his head, he’s the leader of this clan.