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“You look gorgeous, Ottie, seriously. So stunning.” Sable grinned at me as she handed me a pair of soft-soled ballet flats.
Ottie.
No one had called me that in ages.
A brief surge of sadness washed through me, a tidal wave of grief for the lost life I’d once lived, there and gone in an instant as I shook it away.
Even when—if—I made it out of here, things at the La Rosa house would never be the same. Tommaso was dead. My father would be ruthless and relentless in his need for revenge, and I, as always, would be sequestered to my rooms. But I knew my gilded cage would be smaller than ever if I stepped foot into that house once more.
My father would not lose me again. His pride wouldn’t allow it.
After slipping into the shoes, I slid a brush through my long, dark hair before standing in front of Sable’s appraising eyes. She whistled. “You clean up good.”
I fingered the hem of my dress, feeling weirdly vulnerable. Eoin had seen me all dolled up the night we first met, but since I’d been here, I had either been bloody and bruised or dressed casually in sweats. I wondered if he would appreciate the dress; if he would find me beautiful. I rolled my eyes internally for that thought before following Sable out the door.
However, before she let me out of the door at the end of the hallway, she grabbed a black piece of cloth from the pocket of her dress and with a murmured apology, gestured for me to turn around so she could slip the blindfold over my eyes.
“This was one of the conditions of letting you out of the room,” she muttered, voice low and edging toward bitterness. “Eoin wouldn’t budge on this.”
I just nodded and let her tie the black fabric across my eyes. Truth be told, she could’ve hogtied me and I still would’ve accepted it if it meant I got to leave the room, even for a moment. My mind was working overtime, throwing around half-assed plans for escape as Sable’s gentle hands nudged me forward. I could make a run for it—knock Sable out and just bolt. But surprisingly, I discovered that a large part of me wanted to see how tonight ended. And most of all, I wanted to see Eoin.
We walked down seemingly endless hallways, our shoes clacking on the floor, before taking an elevator. Sable and I talked the whole way, just mindless chatter to keep us occupied as we followed more endless hallways until, suddenly, I heard the soft murmur of male voices. The sound grew louder when a door creaked open and we stepped across the threshold. Once the door was shut firmly behind me, Sable undid my blindfold.
Soft, ambient light was the first thing I noticed. But then my eyes locked onto the mile-high bookshelves lining the walls and a soft gasp left my mouth. The room was essentially a library with the huge collection of books. The ceiling was easily twenty feet tall. Bookcases with rolling ladders lined the wall all the way to the top, where they caressed the soft, muted colors of a mural that curled along the ceiling. It was vaguely reminiscent of the Palace of Versailles, but instead of people, the main focus was a brightly golden sun. It shone in yellows and pinks on painted clouds that looked fluffy enough to touch.
My heart ached for a moment, knowing that this was as close to the sun as Eoin and Declan could get now.
Thick, elaborate gold trim lined the ceiling, matching the decadence of the rest of the room perfectly. The furniture spread throughout the room was clearly vintage, but well cared for. There was a seating area at one end, huddled around a roaring fireplace that boasted an elaborate marble mantle. A plush, cream-colored couch with gold accents and decorative feet took up a large corner of the room. Candelabras sat on various flat surfaces, with antique white pillar candles that had happily flickering flames.
And to the left of the couch, sitting in a wingback chair suited for a king, was Eoin Ó Ceallaigh.
Ottavia
Chapter Twenty-One
Eoin was sprawled in the chair, thick thighs spread wide and taking up a considerable amount of space before him. His white shirt had the top three buttons undone, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of his chiseled chest. The long strands of his raven-wing dark hair fluttered around his face until he dragged a lazy hand through it, smoothing it back. His other hand rested on a knee and from his fingers dangled a glass full of amber liquid.
The Abhartach was eyeing me with those hooded emerald orbs of his, taking me in with casual sweeps. He lingered on my legs, gazing at the bared skin like a man starved. My legs weren’t clean-shaven since I hadn’t been given a razor yet, and for a brief moment, I felt mortification sweep through me at having hairy legs around a man that looked like Eoin. I didn’t allow the embarrassment to show on my face. Instead, I jerked my chin up at a jaunty angle and snarled at him, giving him a wicked smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything else.
He grinned toothily back at me, his lips ticking up crookedly, before taking a swig of his drink.
Sable practically danced her way over to Declan, who sat on the couch, and plopped down beside the behemoth-sized vampire who immediately curled an arm around her shoulders. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her curls in an open show of affection I hadn’t been expecting. Before them stood a coffee table, on which sat multiple decks of cards, a small velvet bag that was bulging with items, and multiple board games. I eyed the various editions of Trivial Pursuit and wondered at how difficult it would be to win against men that had been alive for centuries.
“So,” I started as I minced my way over to the group. I tried to be casual about placing myself near Eoin. I wanted his attention, but also didn’t want him to know I wanted it. The female mind was a complex thing and although I didn’t fully understand my urges, I followed them anyway.
I settled down on the floor by the coffee table, tucking my legs under me so I wouldn’t flash the room. Eoin’s knee was to the left of me, so close to my shoulder I swore I could feel the heat emanating from him. “How do these game nights work?”
“Tell me,” Sable said, grinning. “How do you feel about losing?”
“I don’t lose,” I replied haughtily, ignoring Eoin’s pointed snort.
“Ah, nor do we. These nights are very much akin to war. It’s a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, every-man-for-himself kind of deal. Think you can hang?” The quirk to Sable’s brow was lightly mocking, but her eyes were alight with amusement. It appeared as though Sable might be a shit-talker when it came to games, and I loved it. I smirked at her.
“You have no idea what you’re in for,” I answered, vaguely threatening. “I have a competitive streak a mile wide.”
“Good.” Sable’s grin turned sly and slightly evil. “You’ll need it.”
We began with Monopoly, me doling out character pieces and money, then setting up the board. It was a cutthroat game from the start, with Sable buying out properties left and right while Eoin and Declan chose to auction properties instead, and eventually bidding against one another in brutal bidding wars that included slinging various insults at one another. I found myself in jail multiple times throughout the night and ignored the sniggers of the other players when I had to place my token back on the prison block.
