Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
I can’t bear to look away from her. She is laughing outright now between taking tiny sips of her drink. I can’t help but be reminded how much she looks like any other college girl having the time of her life at a party. Making friends. Socializing. The thought of ruining that for her makes my chest ache.
What if my presence doesn’t ruin it? Ha. Laughable. The second I go in there, she'll stop laughing, and all the tension that’s been building between us lately will be evident to everyone.
Why did Bel have to bring her?
If I really wanted to be an asshole, I could order her away...tell her to go home, throw her out. I release a groan of frustration. I’d never live that shit down. Not with Lee watching my every move, and that’s not even considering the tongue-lashing I would get from Bel. No, I can't do that.
God, I’m a fuckhead. She deserves to be here just like everyone else, but her presence is doing crazy things to my head.
A group of girls form into a circle a few feet away from Bel and Ely, and they whirl around to join in on the conversation. Even from my spot across the room, I can feel the shift in the air. The fun, easygoing conversation has taken a nosedive in a different direction.
I take in Bel’s glare of disgust, aimed at the blond girl closest to her.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to myself, watching as Drew tightens his hold on Bel, tugging her backward like he’s afraid she might launch herself at the girl.
If someone is fucking with Bel… I pause for a moment, and my attention turns to Ely, who is staring straight ahead, her eyes glazed over, looking as if someone has slapped her. I shove out of the chair and watch them with confusion as the crowd surrounding them turns their faces toward me.
Fuck, they have to be talking about me. Why else would they look over here?
Bel yells something, but I can’t hear it over the beat of the music. Then she lifts her hand and points at the door. I step down onto the makeshift dance floor, intending to stalk over there and figure out what the hell is going on, but then Ely whirls around and cuts back through the kitchen, crossing directly into my path.
She freezes in her tracks when she spots me, and the look of horror in her eyes is unmissable. I’ve done many things to her, said many things to her, but she’s never looked at me like that. Like I’m a monster.
I open my mouth to say something, anything but she spins around and trudges back into the kitchen, fighting her way through the crowd to the back door.
Goddammit. I shouldn’t give a fuck what it is that’s suddenly made her thoughts on me shift, but I can’t make myself not care. Not when it’s about her. Or anything that concerns her.
“Elyse, wait,” I call after her, but the music is too loud for her to hear me.
Anger replaces whatever I felt before, and I stalk over to where Drew and Bel stand, talking to one another.
“What just happened?”
Bel eyes me out of the corner of her eye. “You happened. Your little harem told her about your ritual, among a couple of other things. I think she just needs a minute to cool off.”
I’m so confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Bel drags her finger up the side of her bicep. “That thing you do to the girls you've been with.”
“Okay?” What does that have to do with Elyse?
Bel shakes her head, looking at me with disappointment. “Do you think the rumors about girls fawning over their desire to wear your signature mark never make it back to me? It's disgusting, if you ask me.”
“Good thing I didn't fucking ask you, then,” I snap, scanning the area for a way to get back to that door. Too many fucking people are in here.
“Watch it,” Drew warns with a growl. “I don’t care if you’re her brother. Talk to her like that again, and we’re going to have a problem.”
Fucking shit. I need to pull it together. Bel hasn’t done anything to deserve my shitty attitude. I release a sigh of defeat and focus my attention back on her.
“I’m sorry, Bel. I shouldn’t have said that.” I shake my head, trying to reel myself back in. “I’ll go make sure Ely is okay.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Bel warns.
In a perfect world, I'd leave her to her anger, let her go home and sleep it off. Whatever. The mark on her arm was just to release her from that nightmare; it's not like I fucked her. If I’d been inside her, the mark she wears would be much different, deeper, and clear to anyone who looks that she is mine and mine alone.