by A. J. Rosen
“Yes. Someone sent that woman to kill you. She has spent every day since your attack crying and begging to be released. She’s worried that her sons will be harmed. But that’s really all I can tell you.”
I opened my mouth, about to protest, when he held up one hand. “This concerns someone with greater power than all of us. Even the queen herself won’t speak a word of it. I’m sure you have many questions still unanswered, Lady Stavros, but we can’t tell you anything else right now.”
There was no point in trying to get more out of him.
Drake went on to impress upon me that if I told anyone these secrets, not only would I be in danger, but they would be too. The only way to keep my friends safe was to lie to them.
I sat quietly for a moment as puzzle pieces fit together in my mind. So that’s why I had been forced to sign a nondisclosure agreement before I was released from jail. I immediately recalled my conversation with Kris and Vlad when I told them about my encounter with the woman from the jail. Should I tell Drake that I had already let some information slip to my friends? What kind of danger were they in now because I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut?
Before my thoughts could race any further, Drake handed me back my phone. I noticed there were numerous missed calls and texts from Vlad and Kris, as well as from Adrian—who was, thankfully, fine and had been released immediately after I’d been whisked away. I was forced to reply to all of them and tell them I was fine, not to worry, that it had been a misunderstanding about the terms of my release from jail.
I hated lying. But I had no other choice. The last thing I wanted was to put anyone’s life in danger. Looking down at my phone as the messages of relief flooded in from Adrian, Vlad, and Kris, I saw another name farther down the screen. Carlo.
My dream. His voice mail. I had to know.
“What about Carlo?” I fixed my eyes on Drake and noticed that his expression faltered a little. “Was he killed because of me?” My voice barely sounded like my own; I could hardly spit out the question because I was so afraid of the answer, which I knew in my gut.
“Lord Ferraro—yes, he had discovered who you were when the Faction tried to get to you through him.” Drake’s voice leveled as he said this, making no effort to deliver the information less harshly. “He had hoped to escape with you, but they found out and killed him.”
My stomach dropped. My worst fear was realized. I felt icy cold, but I had to press further. “What about Bryan? Was his death an accident—was it really a car accident, like it was in my dream?”
The look on Drake’s face said it all. “We believe he was killed by the same people who killed Carlo. They had meant to kill you.” Drake inclined his head to one side, a questioning look on his face. “But what do you mean ‘like it was in my dream’?”
“I had a weird dream where I met both of them. I heard Carlo being tortured, but—” I swallowed hard. This was too much to handle, but I forced myself to get it out. “But with Bryan, I was there, riding shotgun, while he kept on driving faster, no matter how many times I told him to stop.”
“And when was this?” His voice grew persistent, and when I told him, he let out several curse words. “This is what I’ve told Rhea about.” He seemed to be talking to himself. I was surprised that he was calling our queen by her first name.
“Does that mean Bryan was sent to kill me and failed? Is that what got him killed?” I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, squeezing me as if trying to transfer energy. When I looked up, my eyes met Sera Lincoln’s.
“No.” Drake finally gave me a valid answer. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you, but, at the risk of you breaking into the library again and tearing another page out of a historical relic, I suppose it’s better to inform you.”
So he knew about my rendezvous with Adrian, but did he know what we were looking for? About our plan? I decided to keep my mouth tightly shut, and instead, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what he was going to say.
“We were informed by the Moir”—Drake cleared his throat—“someone, that the spirits were coming here to disrupt the Gathering. One of them must have found you in your sleep.”
“What happened to Bryan and Carlo in that dream wasn’t real?”
“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. We mortals don’t have the power to know for sure. All the deaths of non-Stavros that were caused by the Faction are considered collateral damage. We classify them as car accidents so as not to draw attention to the fact that the Faction still exists.”
“Seriously? You don’t think people are going to be suspicious if you just list the same cause of death over and over again?”
“Our goal here is to ensure that the Faction doesn’t kill anybody else. Then we won’t have to worry about people cluing into what’s really going on.” He opened the door, indicating our conversation was drawing to a close.
Fire and determination took me over. Burning rage hissed through my body like a deadly poison, demanding release. It was like a volcano ready to erupt; fury swept off me like ferocious waves. I did not care that I was a Stavros. I couldn’t care less about the royal blood. All I could think about was the fact that two people died because of me.
They had died because of me.
I had to break all ties with the Hellenicus and the Court before anyone else got hurt.
Right before they let me leave, my father—or Hawke, I had to stop calling him Dad now—held my hand and, for a rare moment, his face showed parental concern. “I know it’s tough, kiddo, but you’re stronger than you think, and you will get through this.”
His speech didn’t work. A moment of kindness didn’t erase the years of feeling unloved. And they had been lying to me the whole time. I didn’t even have unloving parents—I had no family. I was truly alone—the last Stavros. How dare he try to tell me those horrible experiences growing up were to teach me lessons and then expect me to buy this act. Not going to happen.
Hawke started talking about how they intended to keep me safe, how he and Lincoln would take turns guarding me, and how we would continue to act like a family so no one would know the truth. He kept emphasizing how important it was to keep my identity secret, reiterating that I would put my friends in danger should they find out.
I barely listened. If they had been protecting my identity this whole time, how had that woman found out about me?
“Do you understand?” Hawke gave me that expectant look one more time. When I did not respond, he repeated himself. “You have to act normal, especially in front of your friends, and especially in front of Lady Ambrosia. It’s best to keep them in the dark, that way they won’t be harmed.”
“Crystal clear. I need some time alone. I’ll stay within the perimeter you’re allowing me.”
Without waiting for a response, I stormed past them. I couldn’t stand to be there another second. I decided that I could not trust these people.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I couldn’t face my friends just yet. No matter how much talking to them would help me process everything I had just learned, I simply could not risk anybody else getting hurt—not after finding out that what happened to Bryan and Carlo was essentially all my fault. I would never forgive myself if I put anyone else in danger.
I also wasn’t ready to pretend like nothing had happened, which was what Drake, Hawke, and Lincoln were asking me to do. I had just been given a serious mental overload, so I spent the rest of the day alone in my room. As I paced my bedroom, pieces of the puzzle kept clicking into place. The very first night here I had been sick after taking one sip of wine from the Golden Chalice. Now it all made sense: Because I was a Pure Royal, I couldn’t ingest the wine meant for the Regulars without feeling ill. No wonder I had passed out. And that time when Adrian and I had snuck into the library, that spirit Yew-la Bew-la or whatever her name was had let me in, and she even mentioned that it had been a while since m
y kind had been there. Had she meant Stavroses? Had she known all along? Then there was my dream about the Stavros door—had my subconscious somehow known the truth?
Eventually, I couldn’t ignore the group texts any longer. Renata’s party at Isles of the Blessed was apparently already in full swing. In Greek mythology, the Isles of the Blessed, or the Fortunate Isles, were a winterless earthly paradise. Only the heroes who had been reincarnated three times and were judged as being pure enough to gain entrance to Elysium (the afterlife) all three times could live there. At Court, Isles of the Blessed was a nightclub. I found it odd that the queen would allow such a prestigious name to be used for a nightclub. But, as I was discovering, not much seemed to make sense here at Court.
I pulled on a black T-shirt and black jeans and let my hair fall loose around my shoulders. I looked in the mirror and my fiery locks steeled me for the performance I would have to put on for my friends. I really hated this, but what choice did I have?
By the time I got to the club, it was already packed, nearly overcrowded with wall-to-wall people dancing to the music played by the DJ. Like a neon version of the northern lights, an array of blue, acid-green, hot-pink, and gold lights swirled beneath the dry-ice smoke in time with the music.
Kris and Domenico stood out in the crowd because, even though the rest of the crowd was jumping up and down, their hands in the air, the two of them were slow dancing, ignoring the loud music and everything going on around them. My heart dropped as I realized that getting rid of my soul-mate bond was more important than ever. Before finding out my true identity, I hadn’t wanted a soul mate for selfish reasons. Mostly, I didn’t want someone I barely knew inside my head at all hours of the day. But everything had changed now that I knew I was a Stavros. During the Great Massacre, even the Hellenicus who had a click with a Stavros were killed. I knew that I could never endanger someone by having that kind of connection with them.
I immediately pushed my way over to the sweethearts. “Ave! You made it!” Kris’s heart-shaped face lit up with genuine happiness and my spirits lifted a little. Kris turned to Domenico, giving him a nod and a smile. Domenico returned her smile and left.
“Where is he going?” I asked my best friend once she turned back to face me.
“Oh, he asked if we wanted some drinks. I said yes.”
I felt a pang. Another reason I could never tell Kris my secrets: Domenico would know too. My body was an empty shell. I’d have to distance myself from Kris if I was going to keep this huge secret from her—and Domenico.
It was a mistake to come here. I should have stayed in my room at the suite until I was able to come up with a proper escape plan.
“Ave, are you okay?”
Worry lines formed on Kris’s forehead and I quickly gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m just a bit tired. Where’s Adrian?” I had texted him numerous times before I left my suite, but he hadn’t replied—calling his phone had only sent me to voice mail.
“I haven’t seen Adrian, perhaps he’s at the bar,” she said.
Domenico returned and handed Kris her drink and then one to me. Their eyes met and there was that lovey-dovey look all over their faces. I knew to excuse myself from their moment. “Okay. I’m going to wander a bit. You guys have fun.”
Kris’s hand caught my arm as I was turning to leave. “Ave, you don’t look okay. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m fine.” I placed my hand on top of hers and squeezed a little to add more reassurance. “I’m going to find Adrian.”
As I walked toward the bar, I downed the root beer Domenico had given me, letting the carbonated bubbles fizzle down my throat. I went up to the bar and ordered another one.
As I waited for my drink, I watched Kris and Domenico. I was glad they seemed to be enjoying the party. I nodded my thanks when the bartender came back with my order, and alone I watched the party as my muddled mind dulled a little with the noise.
Was I acting normal enough? Was I being watched by Court Guards or by a member of the Faction . . . or both?
I took the last big swig of my root beer and headed to the bathroom, which was at the end of a long, narrow hallway. And of course, the hallway was filled with couples making out, thinking somehow that this was more private than the dance floor. I squeezed my way through, trying my best to make my body as small as possible while ignoring various moans and groans. I couldn’t help but cringe. As usual, the ladies’ room had the longest line in history.
Twenty freaking minutes later, I walked out of the bathroom and pressed my way back through the crowded hallway. I was about to turn the corner when someone grabbed my wrists and pushed me up against the wall.
“Adrian—”
A pair of sensual lips pressed against mine with so much hunger. His hands wrapped around my waist, and he pulled my body toward his. As if in a trance, my lips responded to his kiss as my body responded to his touch. It was as if my brain had caught on fire and the warmth spread throughout my entire body. Just then, my senses came back to me and I put my hand on his chest, pushing him away with all my might. He stumbled back.
“What in Poseidon’s name are you doing?” Wide eyed and full of anger, as well as confusion, I stared at him. My hand reached up to my lips.
“I was so worried about you. You’re okay. Oh hail Zeus, you’re okay!”
“Of course I am.”
Adrian looked at me with desperation in his eyes. I could sense how nervous he was. “Do you want to know something, Montgomery?”
“If you promise not to kiss me again, yes.”
“I’m afraid I might be falling in love with you.” His words came tumbling out, and for a split second, I didn’t register what he was saying until his words replayed in my mind in slow motion—one by one.
“What?”
Both of his hands, gentle and warm as ever, reached up. One brushed my hair back, then settled there while the other cupped my cheek. There was such an innate connection that even with a simple touch, he managed to pull all my thoughts to a stop. He held my gaze, stealing the passion from my eyes in a way that only magnified the spark. There was no smile on his lips, only the hot intensity of his gaze, and I somehow knew that this was a sign of an incoming storm. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Montgomery,” he repeated.
The acceleration of my heart rate indicated what my body really wanted. What it craved.
“Adrian, I—”
A sudden movement caught the corner of my eye. And that was when I saw him. Vladimir. His dark-green eyes stared coldly at me and his jaw was tense. Before I could react, he walked away.
“Adrian, listen. You’re drunk. Go home and drink lots of water, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned goofily.
Then I followed Vlad—or at least tried to. There were too many people, and just when I caught his silhouette walking out the door with the exit sign on top, I felt a pair of big hands on my waist. I turned expecting to see Adrian again, though the hands felt different, and sweaty—it was Damian Tavoularis and his haughty smile. A low voice rumbled next to my throat. “We have to stop running into each other like this.” His hands pulled me back against him and I elbowed backward at him.
“Eww, go away!” I rushed forward through the crowd and out the exit. Thankfully, I spotted Vlad walking back toward the Royal Quarters and I chased after him, my feet slipping on the sidewalk covered in fresh snow. I barreled into him and his arms caught me. We paused for a moment like that, feeling the warmth of each other, but then he let me go as I regained my footing.
“Look, please don’t be angry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like my body just yearns for Adrian’s.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said.
“No, listen. My body wants him, my heart’s connected to you.”
“Avery, it’s okay. We’re not in a relationsh
ip or anything. You can kiss whomever you want. We had a kiss, and you’ve had one with Adrian. I get it. If you want to kiss a bunch of guys, that’s your prerogative. I really don’t care, now run along will you?” he said.
It seemed like these last few days didn’t matter. He turned back into the jerk he had been before. So I did what I have always done in the past: I shrugged off his words as if they didn’t hurt and walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I spent the night pushing the conversation I had had with Vlad out of my mind. Instead, I focused on what I needed to do to move forward with my plan. It didn’t matter if I was a Stavros. The show must go on. If anything, I had even more drive now. I knew I couldn’t lose sight of my mission.
With newfound determination, I raced to Adrian’s suite. His maid, Althea, opened the door to let me in, and like before, I found him naked and sprawled on his king-sized bed—except today, he was alone. The morning sun filtered through a crack in the drapery and stretched a pillar of light onto the thick grey covers covering the bottom half of his body.
“Adrian.” I tried waking him up. I tried again a little louder, but it still didn’t work. I would’ve shaken him, but I wanted to avoid any physical contact. If I had learned anything this past month, it was that physical contact with Adrian was proving to be dangerous what with all of my newly Awakened feelings. Then an idea struck me. I pulled out my phone and set the alarm before putting it on the nightstand. It worked like magic: the second the alarm rang, he abruptly sat up on his bed, blinking rapidly as his eyes tried to adjust.
“Montgomery?”
“Yes, the one and only.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Can this wait?”
“Nope,” I said. “You’ve done this to me numerous times before. It’s only fair for me to return the favor.”