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RAIKA
I lived in a gilded prison.
There were fleeting moments, a few seconds here and there, when I forgot. And all I had to do to be reminded of my prison was glance over my shoulder. A demon was always a few feet back, watching me.
Making sure I didn’t try to escape.
Again.
I sighed and rinsed my mug in the sink, my eyes across the marble counter, where Minsi was seated finishing her cereal.
For her, I tried my best to make this house—her house—not look like a prison, despite a second demon in the corner of the room watching her. Worse than these two was the other half-wolf, half-demon who lived in this house as if he were the king.
Well, in a way he was. Conri was the damn alpha, and we could do nothing about it.
I glanced across the family room to the left, where the foyer was located. Around a corner was the home office. Conri was in there and I knew that because of the two demons stationed outside the door.
Demons infested this gilded prison.
A door opened. I dropped the mug in the sink and went to Minsi. I pulled her chair back and helped her stand.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and finish getting ready?”
She pointed to her unfinished cereal.
I grabbed the bowl and handed it to her. “You can finish it in your bedroom.”
Heavy footsteps echoed through the house.
“Just … go.”
Her hazel eyes widened, understanding dawning on her. With trembling hands, she took the bowl from me. The metal shackle on her wrist clinked mine, but we pretended we didn't hear it or feel it. I had decorated mine with leather straps and metal spikes and Minsi’s with pink yarn and bedazzle. Better to pretend these were pretty bracelets than shackles.
I clenched my teeth, watching as the ten-year-old girl disappeared from the kitchen as if it was on fire, going for the second set of stairs in the mudroom, the demon Dixon following her.
Heavy footsteps grew closer, and knowing I couldn’t avoid the devil, I turned toward him.
A wide smile spread across his lips as he entered the kitchen—the two demons stayed back.
To me, Conri looked like an MMA fighter with his cropped dark hair, trimmed beard, and stocky body. He wasn’t the tallest wolf, but he was muscular. He wasn’t one bit attractive and yet he had an imposing air around him, as if everything about him, even his movements, yelled he was the supreme predator here.
“Good morning, Raika,” he said, his deep voice with its usual chipper tone. It made me sick.
I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”
Conri gave me a once-over, as usual. I wanted to duck behind the island or run and hide in a hole every time he did that, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he bothered me.
I did my best not to squirm as he took in my appearance. I had been dressing in the same style for years now—cropped tank, shorts, fishnet tights, long boots, and sometimes a leather jacket if the weather called for it. All black, of course.
“Come talk to me,” he finally said, settling his eyes on mine. He gestured behind him.
This mansion didn’t look like a prison with its wide spaces and fancy country decorations. There was a formal living room, a family room, an entertainment room, a dining room, a breakfast room, and a sunroom with another long table to seat ten, two kitchens—one inside, another outside on the porch—and eight suites on the second and third floors with en suite bathrooms. The few times I had seen this house when I had been a child, a pang of jealousy had cut through me. The chic, white contemporary farmhouse style with medium wood accents had always been my favorite, and now I lived in it.
I hated it with all my body and soul.
“I’m good here.”
Used to my retorts, Conri’s smile didn’t lessen. “Suit yourself.”
