Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
The unexpected kindness in her voice staggers me. “You can’t honestly think that I’ll enjoy giving myself to a stranger.”
Another of her shrugs. “You’d be surprised what you might enjoy now that you’re in Carver City. There’s no one here to tell you what to think, what to feel. The only way to figure out what you enjoy is to try it.”
I stare. How could she possibly dismantle my entire life with a few choice words? I am twenty-three, but there are sixteen-year-olds out there with more life experience. After my mother died, my father locked down our household. Fear and love drive him in equal measures, but knowing that doesn’t make living under his iron fist any more enjoyable. Not when nearly every minute from waking to sleep is spent under the watchful eyes of tutors and guards and people all too willing to report anything they consider dangerous.
The number one thing on that list? Curiosity. The very trait I can’t seem to scrub from my existence. I can’t help that I want to know more about everything, that the walls built high for my safety are the same ones that suffocate me when I’m not lost in a book.
I know my father loves me. I might doubt countless things in Olympus, but never that. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s done everything in his power to prevent me from leaving his household. It doesn’t alter the truth that his love has been slowly smothering me since I was old enough to dream of a normal life.
“Would you like it?” I don’t mean to voice the question, but it’s there all the same, taking up space between us.
“A virginity auction?” She laughs again. “Darling, I’m going to love it.” Before I can ask what she means, she continues. “But no, I don’t enjoy being on the submissive side of the power balance. I like to give orders, not take them.”
“Oh.” Nothing else to say to that, because Adem is off the phone and ushering us to the door behind him.
He spares another smile for Ursa. “Be good.”
“It’ll never happen.”
The words contain a flavor of ritual, as if they’re repeated often between these two. Again, that stab of envy. Surely it’s not because she seems to genuinely like this man? Surely it’s because I envy the freedom they both have, the ability to do what they want, when they want. Surely.
The door leads into a dim bar area, but Ursa doesn’t check her stride to allow me to look my fill. I get the impression of a large sculpture and booths lining the walls, and then we’re in a hallway, heading back to another door—this one a more normal size. It spits us into a tastefully decorated office that lacks any hint of color. Gray on gray on gray, which should make it as soulless as the entrance, but somehow doesn’t.
I almost miss the man sitting behind the desk.
My gaze snags on him on my second pass over the room, and I frown. He’s sitting back in the shadows, and another quick look around confirms that it’s intentional. Most of the space is lit well enough. Theatrics, but effective ones.
The nerves that Ursa temporarily tamed flare to life in response. I’ve skirted the edge of power enough to know it when I see it, and Hades drips power even while bathed in darkness. “What have you brought me, Ursa?”
Ursa presses a hand to the center of my back, urging me forward. I stagger a few steps, my legs suddenly not working correctly, and am grateful when she doesn’t drop her hand. She smiles at Hades, but it contains none of the warmth she gave Adem. “An opportunity.”
“What makes you think I’m interested?”
I’m not sure, but I don’t think he’s done more than glance at me since we walked into the room. I press my lips together and let Ursa take the lead. I’m not sure I can speak at this point. I’m out of my depth and sinking fast.
“An auction. You haven’t hosted one of those in ages.”
He shifts ever so slightly. “With good reason. They’re messy, and you know as well as I do that without a good draw, they’re not worth the headache.”
“We have the draw.”
“Do tell.”
She moves her hand to stroke over my hair, her nails prickling my scalp. “An Olympian princess.” A pause. “A virgin Olympian princess.”
Hades leans forward, the light kissing his features for the first time since I walked into the room. He’s a handsome older white guy with salt-and-pepper hair. Not particularly large, but only a fool believes all strength is physical. “I’m listening.”
“I’m willing to give you ten percent.”
His lips curve up the tiniest bit. “You’ll give me thirty.”
“Hades, now you’re just being greedy. The girl is doing ninety percent of the work. She deserves ninety percent of the money.”