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Von sat on Wyatt’s other side. Wyatt was obviously not happy to be so close to the vampire, but he kept a neutral face.
“I’m sorry, dears,” Von said, looking at Crew, Eli, and August. “This meeting is only forcurrentcast members ofThe Reject Project. For one thing, you are mostly unknown to the public and would confuse viewers. You, Mr. Crew, are more difficult to explain. The viewers would, of course, recognize you, and as I said earlier, Bloodstone Island’s reputation for danger has already been diluted by having these three lovely folks return unscathed. Another survivor would tarnish it beyond redemption.” Von pointed to the rear of the room. “There’s a bench over there. Help yourselves to the craft service table if you’d like.”
August and the others walked away, grumbling and hissing under their breath. Crew glanced back and gave Chelsey a reassuring nod before moving to the back of the room.
Beneath the table, I took Wyatt’s hand, trying to take solace in his thoughts and emotions floating through my mind. Anything to take the edge off. I was afraid Simon might cast a spell on me any second. I still remembered the vacant look in Abel’s eyes during that final battle in the volcano. The last thing I wanted was to be that helpless and robotic—a tool for the fae scientist and nothing more.
Callista took a seat at the table, completing our group, and a moment later, the cameras hummed to life. My stomach flipped. I’d spent the last few weeks on television, but for some strange reason, this moment was more nerve-racking than almost anything else I’d done.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome back to a very special episode ofThe Reject Project,” Von said, facing the nearest camera. “I bet you thought we were done for, but you know what we always say: everyone loves an underdog. And we’ve most definitely been an underdog the last few days, but here we are.” He clapped and chuckled.
He glanced around the table, waiting for the rest of us to join in his laughter, but he was met with stony faces. While Von kept spouting nonsense to the camera, I sensed another foreign presence in my mind, sharp and insistent like a fingernail digging under a scab. My eye twitched, and I turned to see Callista gaze at me hungrily. Bitch. She was doing her best to dig into my head again like last time. Every defensive wall I had went up, slamming like a door in her face.
She wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction and leaned back, crossing her arms.
Von went around the table, introducing several people, though he skipped over most of the board members and his assistant. Finally, he came to Wyatt and me.
“Now, for the biggest surprise in our show’s history,” Von said as the camera panned toward me. “We have Wyatt Rivers and Kira Durst. Our star-crossed lovers, the game-rigging anti-heroes. Two dangerous and sexy shifters who we thought had succumbed to the terrible accident on Bloodstone Island. They are, in fact, alive and here with us. How exciting is that? Say hello to your rabid fans. They are, no doubt, shocked to see you all.”
Wyatt and I waved half-heartedly at the camera.
“Also,” Von said, a look of bloodthirsty glee on his face, “you may not notice, as the marks have almost faded, but it does appear that these two voracious lovers have claimed one another. Such a huge win for all those team Kwyatt fans. Since mating, they have been very busy. Some of you may have even seen them last night. Roll the footage.”
Off camera, a monitor broadcasted what was being shown to the viewers. A reel of us trying to protect the acolytes from Callista’s mental torture.
“Yes, Von,” Callista added from across the table, her showbiz persona in full, million-dollar-smile effect. “But it appears afterour little discussion last night, our couple may have their story mixed up. If you’ll remember, Kira stated on Bloodstone Island that the fated mate connections had been mixed up or the results damaged in some way. Yet, there she was last night, defending these acolytes who identified and certified those connections.” Callista turned her steely eyes on me. “Kira, your words that night instigated the riots that have turned into the war we face now. Are you going back on those words? Because if so, then alotof blood is on your hands.”
I cleared my throat, realizing she was pausing to let me or Wyatt speak. “I’m not sure that you truly understand the situation, Callista,” I said. As I opened my mouth to keep speaking, I froze, blinking, feeling my eyelids growing heavy.
“I…” My head swam with confusion. “Uh…” Something was wrong with me. It had to be Simon. This was exactly what had happened to me on the battlefield.
Every time I tried to open my mouth, nothing came out. I must have looked guilty beyond belief. Wyatt turned toward me and saw the look of horror in my eyes. The fingers of his mind drifted into mine, and an instant later, he spun in his chair, angry eyes leveling on Simon.
“He’s doing something to her,” Wyatt snapped.
Simon adjusted his glasses and laughed. “Me? I’m doing nothing. Perhaps Ms. Durst is simply speechless with guilt for her crimes. Have you thought about that, Mr. Rivers?”
Veins bulged at my neck as I tried to force words from my mouth, but it was like a brick wall had been built between my voice box and my mouth. I stared down at the table, at the pad of paper and sharpened pencil I had before me, trying to make sense of what was happening. Around the room, the other guests and board members glared at me with dark, accusing eyes.
A hand touched my leg. Firm yet gentle, gripping my thigh. The fingers cool even through my pants. Von’s assistant. Surprised, I glanced down at her hand.
In an instant, the mental blockage was gone, so was Simon’s strange murmuring in my mind. My head was clear.
Callista was speaking again. “Kira Durst has apparently seen the truth of it and is trying to work up the courage to take it all back. I suggest—”
“I’m not taking anything back,” I snapped. Callista flinched, and Simon narrowed his eyes. “The fated mate connections are real. As for the stupid blood tests we use to find our mates? Those are what’s wrong, and I can tell you that for a fact. My blood test paired me with a wolf who made me miserable. Now I’m mated to my true fated mate. Wyatt Rivers.”
A shocked murmur ran around the table.
“Hang on,” Von said, looking uncomfortable. “You’re saying that you two aren’t just regular mates, butfatedmates? That can’t be possible. As you said, the blood tests—”
“Are wrong,” I said again. “Pay attention, Von. See if you can follow along.”
The vampire’s eyes flashed at my impropriety.
“Very convenient,” Callista scoffed. “It’s quite easy tosayyou are fated mates. There is no way to prove that. For all we know, you two were rutting like pigs in heat and decided to claim each other.”
“We don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” I said. “I’m not flaunting our connection. That’s not what this is about. It’s about what people are being led to believe. There is no question that fated mates are real. The part that’s a lie is that most people are not with the person they are meant to be with.”
