Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“Sit.” Priest gestures to the sofa opposite him with his free hand but doesn’t look at me until his glass is refilled and he’s back in his spot. “You’re going to want to sit, Luna.”
The rubber soles of my Docs squeak as I follow his instruction, lowering down to mahogany leather.
My hand finds my necklace as if it’s a lifeline. “I don’t know why I’m here.” In a pool of colorless fluff, the rug at my feet blurs together. Untied black boots come into view, and I make my way up his body. Past denim jeans and the relaxed way they sit on his hips, over the rugged bulk of his muscles and how they fill the hoodie he’s wearing, and finally ending at his face, where eyes the color of ink glare down at me. I’d once heard his mom say he has green eyes, but I’ve only ever seen them like this.
Dark.
He hands me a teacup, tilting it forward to show brassy liquid swirling inside. “Drink.”
“I don’t like alcohol.” The elegant design of the teacup distracts me for a moment.
He doesn’t retreat. “I’d be worried if you did. Since you’re what, ten?”
“Almost thirteen,” I grumble, accepting his offer. Electricity crackles between us when his fingers graze mine. I glance up to see if he noticed. Nothing. A masterpiece sculpted by the hands of lords, only left hollow. Empty. Detached.
I balance the cup in my lap as he returns to his chair. Lifting it to my nose, the bitter notes of spice marinade with vanilla and aged wood. Whiskey. At least it’s in a teacup. “Well. This is not pleasant.”
“Drink, Madness….”
Second time he’s called me that. “Madness?”
He hides his expression behind his glass, but rests further into the high wings of his chair until the hood of his hoodie pools at the base of his neck. It does nothing to dull the allure of his charm.
He isn’t going to answer. Figures.
I should ask him if this drink is laced with poison. Perhaps this was the plan all along. To kill me in a way that wouldn’t make it look like it was them. Anyway, how do they take care of the people they no longer think serve them anymore?
After taking the first sip, the subtle aftertaste of lavender and honey seared down my throat. It isn’t terrible. I lift the cup for another taste before placing it back on my lap. With the heat from the alcohol melting all the ice that’s formed in my veins, I relax a little. Okay. I understand why people drink.
“She is a little mad, isn’t she?” Vaden muses and it’s the first time I’ve noticed the smudge lines in his face paint. Now that he’s spoken, I’d recognize his voice anywhere. That’s likely why he didn’t say anything before because, unlike Priest, he had spoken to me several times over the years.
Priest’s lip twitches, as if battling his own thoughts. I imagine his head to be a dark, lonely place.
“Do you know much about the Elite Kings Club? And by know, I mean did any of your three parents educate you on our lineage, history, and what is expected of us all once we ascend?”
“A little. Daddy did more than the other two.”
Vaden chokes on his drink before it turns into a chuckle. “Which one’s Daddy?”
Priest drags his eyes from mine and glares at Vaden.
I sip my whiskey, tracing the ornate patterns carved into the ivory porcelain.
He rests back on me. “How much did your parents tell you?”
The question rolls in my head. I want to move. Get up. Only the more I do, the heavier my limbs become.
I focus on the window opposite, where a beacon flashes in the distance, lost in the darkness of the night. My arm flops to the side. Dread crawls over my body, causing me to shuffle up the sofa.
“They didn’t tell me much.” I look to Priest when the flashing light becomes more of a nuisance. Dad is a King, but he isn’t one of the three, so he doesn’t exist full-time in Riverside and New York. He moved out and into the respective job of whatever he was told to do after Bishop took the gavel. I tend not to ask extensive questions since he made it clear early on that there was no point in asking questions in this world because if you were supposed to know, you would.
Vaden moves from his position opposite Priest. I don’t have much to do with the kids, but I like Vaden. He’d always ask me if I wanted to go and hang with them. I usually said no. He never took it to heart. He understood me more than the others.
“You’re a Vitiosis.” The pieces of the puzzle slip into place. Or I try to force them, since information over the years has been limited.