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“I kissed you and you guys tried to make me think I kissed the other one!”
“...the fuck,” he mutters, pretty sure by accident. He takes a half-step forward, eyes flying between mine. “London?”
The big, playful whisperer who had his arms wrapped around from behind comes to stand at their side.
All three stupid gorgeous men stare at me intently. The smirks, anger, annoyance, and even the teasing, long fucking gone. They’re blank slates, void of any inkling that could have possibly clued me in to what they could be thinking.
The sound of breaking glass and loud shrieks of a female break through our ball of silence, and we all turn around.
Alex, as Zeke called her, laughs maniacally as she stares down at a bleak looking girl with soft pink hair curled in a ball at her feet, blood seeping from her ears.
I jolt forward, unsure of what to do but sick of this bitch already. Before I can get close, I’m yanked backward, and this time when I try to break free, I can’t. Held against my will like a fucking hex locked around my body. My feet heavily rooted in place.
Panic surges within me, making my pulse beat harder against my chest. A woman with long, dark hair and a giant glistening crown appears around the corner, milky white tethers seeping from her palms, twisting and wrapping around Alex.
Alex’s eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t struggle.
I would smirk if I could move my lips.
Serves the bitch right.
I wait for the Queen—because holy shit that is the fucking Queen! —to read her the riot act.
“Now, now, Ms. Kova.” Her voice is silken and dark. “Don’t start the fun and games without your future King here to see it. You know how much he loves them.”
In my head, I have officially dropped my mouth open because what the fuck?
What is this shit?
What the fuck did I get my dumb ass into by laughing the words ‘I accept’ like the fool I clearly am?
I mean I am all for the dark and desponded, but I can tell without having spoken a single word to the girl currently bleeding into the sparkling sod beneath her that she didn’t do anything to deserve it.
Is that how women in Rathe roll?
My anxiety prickles, but as I shift my eyes, the only thing I can fucking move thanks to the man wrapped around me, it settles a bit.
All the women are dressed in the most ostentatious gowns. Some figure-hugging and sleek, others low-cut but long. Their hair is down in big curls and their faces soft and lips mostly ripely red for the taking. They wear heels with glitz and glitter that make their legs look impossibly long, especially compared to my fun size self.
Clearly, they all want the seat we’re here to fight for. They look the part of the princess, and I mentally high five myself for going with the complete opposite of what I figured a king would want.
Thick black liner cuts the curve around my eyes, paired with heavy charcoal shadow and raven-licked lips. My hair is pulled up in a high, sleek pony, flowing straight down my spine, only keeping the two chunky face-framers out to direct the curves of my face.
My breasts are held together by a leather corset; but not the dominatrix style, just a subtle,I don’t fucking want to be your pretty little trophystyle. Tight around my stomach, and an inch above my belly button. The matching leather pants come up just beneath the dangly belly ring and are tight all the way down to the ankle. The black boots cuff around the ankle and add nothing to my height.
Movement to the left catches my attention, and I stare intently, tension suddenly whirling in my belly as the wall of ivory parts, and mother fucker!
It’s him, the guy from the diner and the twin at my back. The one I have been thinking all along I kissed. The one who Isawgetting his dick sucked outside that Gifted party they didn't think I could see.
My heart shudders in my chest, beating violently and demanding I go to him. Touch him.
Mine.
What the fuck?
He’s wearing a suit, tailored to perfection and his dark hair is messy, but that kind of messy where it looks perfect. Delicious. The kind you can picture staring down at when his face is buried between your legs.
Too bad he’s a fucking asshole, but why does the sight of him today feel so different than it did twenty-four hours ago. There was something then, a sizzling attraction, but this is…not the same.
