Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
This utter bullshit of partying non-stop needs to come to a halt. But each night, as I recall what happened in Tynewood, the guilt hits me worse than the day before. If it wasn’t for my family, life would be far less complicated. We can’t choose our bloodline, but fuck, it would make things a lot less stressful if we could.
When I left Tynewood, I needed a break from the town I grew up in, but I know it won’t be too long before I’m back there again. The one thing I do miss is spending time with the rest of the Crowns—my best friends, Ares and Etienne, and even Philipe.
Opening my eyes fully, I push off the bed and immediately stumble into the bedside cabinet, knocking a glass onto the floor. Red wine splatters over my feet, and I know the stain won’t be coming out of the soft pile carpet anytime soon.
“Shit!” I hiss.
Picking the now empty glass up, I set it back on the nightstand and stagger into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.
After I’ve taken a leak, I shove my dick into my boxers. Everything hurts, and when I look in the mirror and see the state I’m in, I’m thankful I’m still alive, barely. Opening the faucet, I splash cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the hangover I know is about to hit. But nothing can stop the tequila-induced headache that’s slowly beginning to throb behind my eyes.
When I head back into the bedroom, the girl that was in my bed has gone, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
A couple of seconds later, the bedroom door opens, and I’m met with the hazel glare of my travel companion, Grecia Birchwood. She’s not wearing her glasses, which means she’s got her contacts in, and they’re making her eyes glimmer even brighter than usual.
“What?” I croak. My throat feels like the goddamned Gobi Desert.
Grabbing the bottle of water that Grecia’s holding in her hand, I twist off the cap and swig down a mouthful of the cool liquid.
“Do you have to have girls running out here crying every damn morning, Tarian?”
Her perfectly arched brow lifts as she regards me. It’s clear she’s not in a good mood this morning.
It’s been a few weeks since Grecia arrived here. Not long after I left Tynewood, she turned up on the beach near my apartment in Capri, looking for me. She’s beautiful and very tempting, but we haven’t fucked yet. I say yet because I can’t deny she’s hard to resist, but so far, we’ve kept it friendly. Well, sort of, if you can call the tension between us friendly.
“Are you on your period or something?” I bite out, turning to my closet and grabbing a pair of sweats. I shove my boxers off, and glancing over my shoulder, I watch her hazel gaze lock on my ass. I can’t help but chuckle. “Enjoying the view?”
“You’re a dick, Tarian. We have work to do,” she tells me, but I can see her cheeks turning bright red as she spins on her heel with a huff and leaves me to pull on my sweats.
Without bothering to put on a T-shirt, I follow her out the door and down the hallway. Her long chestnut hair hangs in tight curls down her back, and I smile at the way her hips sway when she stalks in front of me. She’s a curvy little firecracker, and I am so tempted to set her off, but I know the moment we take that step, it will change our dynamic. And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
I know Grecia wants me, but there’s no way in hell I’d rope her into this fucked up life of mine. So instead of allowing her to fall into my bed, I keep pushing her away. Our relationship is strictly platonic, and that’s the way it needs to stay. By focusing on work, we’re managing to keep things amicable between us.
“What’s going on?” I ask, moments later, as I slip into the kitchen chair opposite her.
Grabbing one of the cups sitting on the table between us, I fill it with the freshly made java from the French Press. The scent of mocha assaults my senses as I take a long sip.
“I’ve found a hit on Thane, but there’s a problem,” she tells me as her eyes scan the screen in front of her. “He’s gone underground. One of Heinrich’s men has confirmed your uncle is off the radar, but hopefully, we can pick up a cell phone signal and locate him next time he communicates with someone.”
Heinrich is one of the Crowns who will soon be stepping down to allow the next generation to take over control of the society. He was meant to become an Elder, but he refused the seat when it was offered to him. He prefers working for the Sovereign out in the field.