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The host chuckled. “Indeed it is. Something else that is gorgeous is our other prize mate.” He stepped away to accost Chelsey. “The delightfully demure Chelsey Rein.” Chelsey wasn’t as good an actor as me and had to mask the look of disquiet that naturally accompanied a vampire touching you like you were long-lost lovers.
“Uh, hi, Von. It’s very nice. Thank you,” Chelsey said.
“Have you got your eye on any of these remaining alphas, Miss Rein?” Von asked.
Chelsey flushed but stayed composed. “Still biding my time. You, um, can’t let them know what you’re thinking, can you?”
Von pinched her cheek and swept away from her. “That is correct. Always keep them guessing. That could almost be the tagline for this show.
“We are giving all these folks a chance they might never have had on the mainland: the opportunity to find their perfect match. It’s a good thing we here atThe Reject Projectare completely invested in love. Beyond all other things, that is what this show is about.”
“What a load of crap,” J.D. muttered.
I turned to see him shaking his head with a disgusted look. Of all the people to speak up, I hadn’t anticipated it being him. His words were also loud enough for the cameras to pick up.
Von’s perfect façade slipped a fraction, but he recovered quickly, though the smile looked much more forced than it had a few seconds before. He gestured toward a round table on the opposite side of the terrace—the same table the showrunners had sat at.
“Please, have a seat. I’m sure you enjoyed the canapes, but a fantastic four-course dinner awaits you.”
We all took our seats at the table. As silly as I thought all this was, ravenous hunger clawed at my insides. I couldn’t remember the last thing I ate. My mind braced itself for whatever curveball Von was about to throw, but when the wait staff brought out salads for the first course, I stuffed my face.
Von stood to the side of the table as wine was poured into our glasses. “Go on, chat. Don’t mind us. Enjoy dinner.”
Enjoying dinner was difficult with all the cameras flitting about, but we did our best. Abel sat to my left. I decided to see how he was doing while the others chatted among themselves.
“How’s your day?”
Abel glanced up and smiled. “Fine.”
“I’m glad things worked out today. With you making it back to the mansion okay, I mean.”
“Uh, yeah. Same to you,” he muttered and went back to his salad.
He was not acting like his usual pleasant self. Across from me, J.D. also looked upset and tense. In fact, the strange tension was palpable all around the table. From the corner of my eye, I saw Gavin trying to catch my attention. He was obviously upset that I’d called him out on his bullshit and that I continued to ignore him.
At the other end of the table, Tate acted as though nothing at all was wrong. He even asked me to pass him a roll and was genuinely polite about it. That alone made me more suspicious.
“Here you go,” I said, passing the bread platter to him.
“Thanks,” he said with a wink. “You’re a doll.”
I saw straight through his act. He wanted to get my guard down. I had no doubt that he was still plotting to convince Chelsey to knock me off so he could get both prizes.
Wyatt noticed the interaction and gave me a knowing look. He was almost as good as I was at staying in character. He and I had been trained for situations like this. Well, maybe notexactlylike this, but similar. By the time the third course came out—a filet with creamed potatoes and roasted mushrooms—I could almost convince myself that I was at a run-of-the-mill dinner party.
After the entrees had been cleared, the staff set out dessert silverware and champagne flutes. Another staff member followed behind, pouring the bubbling liquid into the glasses. They’d already given us a few glasses of white and one of red that were delicious. Might as well enjoy myself while I had the chance. I picked up the new glass to see how the champagne stacked up.
The drink slid down the glass, pale yellow, and an instant before it touched my lips, I smelled something that sent a shockwave of memory through me—a lion shifter glaring at me in shocked and angry surprise. “Lying cunt,” he’d spat at me before flipping the table over.
The champagne touched my tongue, the barest sip coating the tip of it before I tossed the glass aside. The others flinched at the sound of shattered glass. Leaping up from my chair, I reached across the table to slap the glass from Chelsey’s hand before it touched her lips.
“What the fuck, Kira?” Tate barked, wiping splattered champagne from his tux.
“Don’t drink that. No one fucking drink a drop of that shit.”
I couldn’t believe the anger surging inside me. The absolute rage. It was the exact same drug the lion shifter had given me in the restaurant. It felt like a lifetime ago, but that moment had caused my life to go off the rails. Already, I could feel the barest effects of the chemical. I’d had less than a sip, but the strange heat was already building inside me.
Wyatt stared at me, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He glanced at the shattered glass on the ground, then back at me, and his jaw dropped. He’d put it together. Then, the others began to notice.
