Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“Ella! Are they keeping you prisoner? Blink twice if you need a rescue!” The woman striding up the avenue is a fucking banshee in business casual. One who looks like she’s been rode hard and put away wet one too many times.
Right behind the banshee are two tall, skinny women with faces like they’ve been sucking lemons since birth. They look enough like Ella to piss me off, but there’s none of her warmth or fire in either of them. One’s got platinum hair yanked back tight enough to lift her eyebrows into permanent surprise; the other’s got the same shade, but limp and flat, hanging around her face like a cheap curtain. Both are dressed for a corporate firing squad, all stiff skirts and pointy shoes that’d snap in a real fight. Their eyes flick back and forth, pinched and judgmental, scanning the settlement like they’re here to appraise property values and find everything lacking. If they’re anything like their mother, it’s a fucking miracle Ella turned out the way she did.
“Are you okay?” One of the women wails, and her shrill voice actually hurts my eardrums. Ella actually snorts so loud my brothers glance over, smirking. I almost laugh. Almost.
We approach the barrier. The guards step back. The crowd hushes, every face locked on the unfolding spectacle. I square my shoulders, making sure every inch of me is visible over the fence.
“Ms. Blume,” I say, voice all command. “You’re trespassing on private property and disrupting settlement peace. State your business and vacate the premises.”
She turns to me, eyebrows arched so high they nearly disappear. “And you are?”
“Oren Arch,” I say, then add to make my point, “Prince Regent and Ella’s mate.”
The words land like a bomb. Ella’s mother blinks once, then twice, like she’s trying to process my words.
Her mouth opens, and the words that come out are even more shrill than I expect. “I want to speak to my daughter alone. Now.”
“Not going to happen.” I don’t trust this bitch at all.
I glance at Ella, ready for her to balk, but she just nods, squeezing my hand at her side.
Her mother's face contorts into a mask of calculated outrage, red lipstick cracking at the corners of her mouth. "You realize this is kidnapping?" She jabs a manicured finger through the air. "I'll have State Troopers and a court order here before lunch."
"She's dating a prince," the sister with the platinum ponytail hiss-whispers, her nostrils flaring like she smells something rotten. "Why does she get a prince when I'm still living in that shoebox apartment?"
"Yeah, but he's green with tusks," the other one mutters, eyeing me up and down like I'm livestock at auction. Her thin lips curl back from too-white veneers.
"Shut up, you two," Ella's mother snaps, her voice like a whip crack as she shoots them both a venomous side-eye.
Ella steps up, ignoring the annoying bickering. Her voice is firm, every word pure iron. “Mom, I’m not a prisoner. I’m here because I want to be. Oren is my mate. We’re bonded.”
Her mother actually scoffs. “Ella, that’s not even a thing. You’re clearly being manipulated. Come home with us and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
Ella runs out of patience. “Get lost. I’m not going to fall for your bullshit a second time.”
The woman sputters, cycles through several facial expressions ranging from shock to hate, then fixes on me. “This isn’t over. I’m not leaving until I speak to the Council. And then I’m taking you to court.” She actually pounds her tiny fist on the barrier, like it’ll bring the walls down.
Fuck. I’m so over this. I glance at the guards. “Escort her off of Arch property. If she resists, call Gavric.”
The guards close in. Ella’s mother stares at me like she wishes she could incinerate me with her eyeballs, but her bravado cracks the second Ronan and his team move to flank her. The sisters start shrieking immediately, one threatening to call six different lawyers, the other whining about “inhumane conditions” and “media exposure.” They put up a hell of a racket, stumbling in their cheap heels, phones waving wildly as they record the entire walk of shame back to their black sedan.
“Don’t think for a second this is over!” Ella’s mother screeches, nearly tripping over her own feet. “I’ll have the whole place condemned! You’ll be hearing from our attorney, the governor, and the goddamn President!” Her voice carries all the way down the avenue, echoing off the stone arches.
Ella doesn’t even flinch. She stands next to me, proud, calm, steel in her spine. My mate leans over and whispers, “My mother doesn’t even know who’s President.” I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
We walk back to the house, her fingers tangled in mine. The mark on her chest pulses with heat, causing my own mark to tingle as our heartbeats sync with each step.