Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
I’m sure that was his intention.
I let him drag me down the stairs because he doesn’t give me much choice, but as soon as we enter the courtyard where the bulk of the people seem to be either sitting at their tables or out on the dance floor, I pull left so we can at least get some coverage and walk the outer path along the grand room.
I search for Killian in the crowd, but now that we’re on the same level instead of above them, there are a lot more obstructions in my line of sight.
The only good thing is, it would also be harder for him to spot us. If he didn’t see us entering and coming down the staircase, then we may be able to escape unnoticed.
Of course, our evidently late arrival makes it more likely that he would have noticed our entrance.
This is terrible.
I know it’s senseless trying to convince Aiden to leave when he clearly brought me here for a distinct purpose, but if I can get out of here on my own, I can walk back to the road and call myself an Uber or something.
Man, I really wish I would have brought a coat. I’m going to freeze my ass off, and I had no service on the road before we got here, so I don’t even know if I’ll be able to summon an Uber to pick me up.
As the thought passes through my mind, a man comes up behind me, locking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me back against him. My heart drops as he leans in, sliding his other hand around my throat and tightening his grip.
“If it isn’t my favorite troublemaker.”
A strange mix of relief and dread trickles through me.
I know that voice, and thankfully, it isn’t Killian.
It’s Hex.
With the memory of last time he was this close to me still pretty potent, I feel claustrophobic being trapped against him like this, but I swallow, my throat working beneath his hand as I try to suppress the panic creeping up on me.
Part of his costume brushes my arm as he pulls me even tighter against his hard body.
“Look at you, terrified and not even fighting me,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath hits my ear. “What a good girl. I could have so much fun with you.”
I think he has been drinking.
Aiden released me when Hex first grabbed me to let him have control, but now he slides Hex a look. “Don’t you have your own date to torment tonight?”
“I have one running around here somewhere, but she’s boring. I like yours better.”
I wait for him to release me without fighting him, which seems to be the right move, because he lets go and begins to move around me.
I regard him warily as he circles me like a hungry lion cornering its intended dinner. Behind those cool blue eyes lie secrets and motives I can’t even begin to guess at, but as his gaze drifts to my bare shoulders with unveiled interest, all I want is for something to make him look away.
“I love when a woman wears a dress that looks like it’s falling off her. Makes me want to finish the job.”
“Hello, Hex,” I say, my tone guarded but not unfriendly. I don’t like him, but I have no desire to get on his bad side, either.
Once he’s finished looking me over, his devious gaze meets mine. “Christine,” he says, his tone lightly mocking.
“I’m not Christine,” I mutter. “The hair was a mistake, I didn’t know his costume would be…”
He doesn’t care and he isn’t interested in my self-defense, so his gaze shifts to Aiden. “And you. Totally aware that Killian is the only barrier to your acceptance, and you bring her as your date to the ball. Interesting strategy.”
“Have a little faith,” Aiden says. “There’s always a method to my madness.”
“I look forward to seeing evidence of it,” Hex says blandly, but Aiden just smirks despite his casual skepticism.
“I like your costume,” I tell Hex, stealing his attention back to me. “Very kingly.”
He isn’t wearing a crown since it would likely be too much on top of his exquisitely detailed black and silver masquerade mask, but he is wearing a fur-lined mantle. The outside is black velvet embroidered with details designed in silver threading, and there’s soft black and white fur inside. It’s the soft thing that touched my arm when he was holding me captive.
“It looks warm,” I add, smiling up at him.
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “It is,” he says, waiting to see what I’m aiming for.
“Does it detach?” I ask innocently.
“It does.”
“May I borrow it?”
“You miss my smell that much?” he asks idly. “I can just hold you close and choke you again. Perhaps with fewer items of clothing between us this time.”