Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Yes, it was the best thing for all concerned.” As their Primes, Knox and Harper should have been the ones to break the news to Carla and Bray. But since Harper’s demon had been the one to end their son’s life, she thought it would be a little insensitive for her to deliver the news personally. Knox could have visited them alone, but he wasn’t going to leave Harper’s side until he could finally breathe without tasting fear and remembering how it had felt to hear she’d been taken. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a while.
“Do you think Kellen will hate me for it?” Harper asked.
“No,” replied Knox. “He saw Roan for what he was.” But if the kid froze her out again, Knox would ensure Kellen didn’t walk back into her life. She wasn’t a toy he could put down when he felt like. She was a person. A good person who didn’t deserve to be messed around. “You sure you don’t want to spend the night at home?”
Harper straightened her shoulders. “I’m sure. Let’s do this.”
The Underground’s dome looked nothing at all like it usually did. With the artistic flower arrangements, ice sculptures, the soft music from the live brand, and the scent of citruses and lavender, you could easily forget the space was usually a combat zone. Harper was impressed. Bitch or not, Belinda was good at what she did.
Chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Waiters circulated, serving drinks and easy-to-eat appetizers to the mingling crowd – most of which was Primes. Some demons were swirling along the man-made dance floor. Martina was working the crowd, no doubt doing some pickpocketing. As long as she didn’t set anything on fire, Harper was good with that.
Knox took two glasses of champagne from a waiter and handed one to Harper. “Hold this with your left hand.”
Knowing he wanted everyone to get a good look at her rings, she said, “See, I told you my mate was possessive.”
Mouth curved, he spoke against her temple. “Sorry, baby, but we’ll have to do what drives you and your demon crazy.”
She couldn’t help that her upper lip curled a little. “Mingle.”
He chuckled. “Yes, mingle.”
Her shoes clacked along the floor as they moved. Thankfully she’d walked around the mansion in them to break them in, so they weren’t chafing the back of her ankles. “Fine, but can we start with Jolene?” Harper gestured to the corner, where her grandmother was studying a sculpture of a naked male with Raini, Devon, Beck, and Ciaran.
“Of course,” said Knox.
But, to Harper’s annoyance, it didn’t prove to be as simple as that. They headed for Jolene but got waylaid several times by people who wanted to chat, including Thatcher and Mila. As Harper smiled at each and every person, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was looking right at one of the Horsemen. Some commented on the rings, others didn’t, but they all seemed shocked – no surprise there.
The sentinels stayed close, all prepared for action. Just because Roan and Crow were dead didn’t mean the other two Horsemen wouldn’t strike at the event, though she seriously doubted they would. They’d have to come up with a whole new plan now that they’d lost yet another key player. She wondered if they even knew that Roan was dead yet. Well, if they didn’t, they would find out when Knox made his announcement.
To Harper’s extreme disappointment, Alethea wasn’t one of the people who approached them. But Harper did catch a glimpse of her chatting with Jonas, Raul, and a few others on the other side of the dome.
Having Knox at her side should have made the mingling bearable. But every touch was sensual, possessive, and teasing. Really, it was like being subjected to a sensory overload. His fingers combed through her hair, trailed along her spine, and massaged her inner wrist. His hand kneaded her nape, cupped her hip, “accidentally” brushed her breast, or splayed on her lower back, taking up as much skin as he could and ensuring the heel of his hand rested just above her ass.
When he wasn’t talking to the others, he was breezing his lips against her temple or whispering in her ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. And he knew exactly what all the flirty touches were doing. Knew she was wet and flushed. The only reason she didn’t reprimand him was that she worried he’d send those psychic fingers wandering – it wasn’t something he hadn’t done in public before.
As they broke away from yet another crowd, he whispered into her ear, “Tell me the truth. Just how wet are you?”
“You know my body well enough to know exactly how wet it will be.”
He smiled against her ear, liking that answer. “You’re right.”