Page 209 of Moon's Promise

Larissa unconsciously raised her hand to touch her mask at Winter guessing her identity.

Winter laughed. “Don’t worry; no one else will be able to recognize you so fast. I saw you walking past my house with Killyama as I was leaving.”

After they walked out of the kitchen together, Killyama nudged her to the side, toward the bar area, as Winter was swallowed up in a crowd much larger than she had expected.

“I need a drink.”

Remaining on the other side as Killyama made herself a drink, she scanned the room to check if Moon was there, taking in the party-goers with consternation.

Killyama had saved her from humiliation. She was going to kill Moon. The Last Riders were going to have to carry him out on a stretcher, she promised herself.

A few of them were wearing costumes that were Halloween-y, like Winter and Viper’s by choosing famous masked characters, but wow, they hadn’t done homemade. Their costumes were a different caliber than what she had devised. Several, she guessed, had spent a bundle to stand out.

Any plans she had made to find out if Moon had been cheating on her flew out the window before she could ask.

He was cheating. There was no way he wasn’t. The women were gorgeous, and if they were decked out in revealing clothes like they were tonight, it would take a saint to resist them.

Moon was no saint. Hell, he didn’t have the willpower to go a night without making popcorn. No wonder he had no interest in having sex with her. He probably didn’t have the energy.

Spotting Saffron wasn’t difficult. The leggy blonde was hard to miss. Dressed as one of the women from Warlord from Hell, she looked sexy and alluring. Everything she was not.

Women belonging to the warlord were only permitted to wear certain colors, according to how often the warlord would call for them. The favorites were allowed to wear black and gold, the ones called occasionally were allowed to wear red, women who were rarely called wore green, and those who had yet to make it to the warlord’s bed wore blue. Only the favorites wore an intricately designed head chain, which circled the women’s faces, like The Lone Ranger’s mask but made of gold. From the bottom of the mask hung thin tassels, studded with black pearls.

Saffron had almost all the accessory down to the gold slippers, except for the one item that one of the favorites from Warlord from Hell was killing everyone for—a gold choker that had dangling stones. Each time the main favorite was called to the warlord’s bed, she would be gifted a precious stone the next morning, if they had pleased the warlord. So far, the main favorite on the show had been given a ruby, an emerald, and a sapphire. The favorite wanted a diamond and was literally killing the others to reach her goal—to become the warlord’s woman.

“Here you go.”

Dragging her gaze away from Saffron, she saw Killyama had placed a tall glass within her reach. “I can’t.”

Killyama raised another glass that looked like the one she had given her. “Bitch, you aren’t the only one with a hungry mouth to feed. It’s ginger ale.”

Taking a sip of her soda, she continued looking around, her confidence evaporating at watching the provocative women throughout the room. Returning her gaze back to Killyama, she found herself being observed.

Larissa slightly lifted her shoulders, silently admitting she had been comparing herself to the other women.

“How do you survive?”

Vindictive humor filled Killyama’s expression. “I put the fear of my boot in them. Makes my days a little brighter.”

When she didn’t laugh, Killyama grew serious. “I trust Train.”

“Have you heard if Moon is cheating on me?”

“No, but if he was, Train wouldn’t tell me.”

Larissa worried her bottom lip as a woman came up to the bar, dressed in a mesh sapphire dress and mask. Little designs were spotted throughout, leaving most of her skin bare, the design becoming more intricate over her private areas.

She waited until the woman stepped away from the bar before asking, “Is she a Last Rider?”

“Not yet.” Killyama dragged a whiskey bottle closer.

“Nuh-uh. Remember, we have babies to feed.”

“I wasn’t going to drink it. I was going to throw it at that bitch.”

Larissa couldn’t blame her. The back was more indecent than the front. There was no design on the back, allowing a clear view of the woman’s thong.

“I don’t know many of the rules, but Moon did tell me women aren’t allowed to fight each other.”

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