Page 7 of The Devils of Raven's Gate

I let out a deep breath and force the flirtiest smile I can muster. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets. Am I right?” I make a mental note to research everything I can find on Ever Graves and Raven’s Gate later.

Libra wraps her arm back around mine. “A lady never kills and tells. Come on, let’s go get shitfaced.”

If she only knew.

I follow Libra through the packed house, impressed by her prowess. As I watch her slither in and out of different groups, greeting various friends with air kisses on each cheek and giggling at all the right moments, I realize she’s me. She’s popular, admired, envied. I can see the way they look at her. They either want to fuck her or be her. Or both. Libra’s the Raven’s Gate version of me. Well, the old me, anyway.

After twenty minutes of being introduced to countless stunning girls and hot as fuck guys—all of whom I won’t remember their names after tonight—we finally make our way over to the bar. Before I can open my mouth, Libra orders a whiskey for herself and a gin and tonic for me.

I wrinkle my nose as the fumes from the drink hit my nostrils. “I hate gin.”

Libra raises an eyebrow. “But it’s your family’s legacy.”

I nearly choke on my first sip. “Come again?”

She snatches the bottle from behind the bar and shoves it in my face.

My stomach sinks. Splashed across the label is my last fucking name. Well, my mother’s last name. I know her family’s rich, but I had no clue that they are famous as well. Fuck.

I shrug, trying my best to recover from my obvious blunder. “Yeah, whatever. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Libra freezes for a minute before bursting into laughter. “Yeah, fuck our families and their empires. I’m starting to like you, Blackwell.”

I breathe a sigh of relief into my glass. It’s too late now to come clean about not knowing them. It’s not like I’m lying. Not completely. Just omitting some details. Okay, a lot of details.

A skinny blonde wearing glow-in-the-dark body paint roller skates past us, carrying a tray of jello shots. As I reach for one, Libra smacks my hand.

“What the fuck?” I bark.

“Only basic bitches drink jello shots, Maureen,” she drawls. “Look around you. These people look up to us. This is Nocturnus House, and here… we are at the top of the fucking food chain. So you need to act like it.”

A twinge of guilt wrenches in my gut. What would Bailey think of me hanging out with this bitch?

“Don’t you mean you’re almost at the top of the food chain?” a sexy voice chides from behind us.

I spin around and my breath catches in my throat. With pale blond hair and those same blue-green eyes, he looks like the male version of Libra. And his body… fuck. He’s at least six foot four and even through his black buttoned-up shirt, I can see the curves of his muscles.

She rolls her eyes. “Maureen, this is my cousin, Atlas. He lives here.”

He winks and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. His breath is hot, tickling the nerves on my fingers. “I bet you taste like sin.”

I quiver as he places a gentle kiss on the top of my hand. His lips are thick and so fucking soft. I imagine what they’d feel like on other parts of me.

He chuckles, and I realize that my mouth is open. My cheeks flush. Fuck. I snatch my hand away. “I don’t taste like anything.”

Libra rolls her eyes. “My new roommate’s been here for five seconds and you’re already trying to fuck her? Give Blackwell some space, Atlas.”

His body shifts back, his jaw muscles flexing as he narrows his eyes at his cousin, and then back to me. “Now I know you taste like sin.”

“Excuse me?” His entire vibe changed the second she said my last name.

Atlas sighs and shoots Libra another tense look. She shrugs and puffs out a nervous chuckle. “What?”

He shakes his head. “I’m gonna go warn Riot and Valentin.”

“Warn them about what?” I snap. Someone better start telling me what the hell is going on here.

“I’d like to know as well.” His voice is deep and smooth. The kind of voice you want to read you a naughty bedtime story. As he steps out of the shadows, I inhale a sharp breath. His eyes widen as they meet mine. There’s something about him…

---