Page 38 of Velka Manor

Dorian scoffs, pushing off me slightly. “Please. I’m the best, and we all know it.”

“I think the fuck not.”

Oh, I see where this is going, and I do not want to be in the middle while they tumble on the ground. “Guys,” I try, but they ignore me.

Dorian lays back down on top of me and makes me lose my breath. They mutter at each other about who’s the best, punching the other in the sides as I’m jolted to the side.

“Tell him I’m the best, pretty girl.”

“No, tell him I’m the best. Who makes you come better, angel?”

“Uhhh. I am so not getting involved,” I mutter, trying to get out from between them, but their focus shifts from each other to me.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be on my team.” Bastian holds my sides, squeezing the spot I hate.

“Don’t you dare,” I snap, but I shouldn’t have taken the bait.

“No, angel, be on my side,” Dorian says tauntingly, grabbing my knees, about to squeeze.

“Don’t fucking do it.” I scowl, waiting, and they both act at the same time, tickling my worst spots.

Motherfuckers!

I laugh and scream, trying to kick and hit them as they continue their assault. I should not have dropped the knife; I could use it to stab them in the fucking dicks about now. I hate being tickled, and these bastards love to do it.

“Children, that behaviour will cease this moment,” a cold, hard voice booms in the room, and all three of us stop moving immediately, my blood turning cold.

I know Dorian said he would be arriving, but I didn’t think it would be today, and he’s found all three of us on top of each other. I scramble to my feet, out of breath and horrified. Dorian and Bastian slowly rise, coming to either side of me. I want to take their hands for comfort, but I don’t. I clasp them behind my back, ringing them nervously.

“Hello, Grandfather,” I whisper, dropping into the customary curtsy that is expected when greeting him, staying in the position until he says, “Granddaughter.”

I raise my head, meeting his ice grey eyes head on and holding in my shiver. He hasn’t changed since the last time I saw him: grey, slicked back hair with a perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard, wearing his signature bespoke grey suit. He looks nothing like the ones you see on tv shows. Nope, my grandfather looks like the head crime lord he is, and as he eyes the three of us, I’ve not forgotten the fear he instils.

“Grandfather,” Dorian and Bastian say, giving curt nods, not bowing like expected or waiting for him to greet them.

“You’re early,” Dorian states with an accusatory tone that has me sucking in a deep breath.

Grandfather purses his lips, eyeing Dorian with an expression I can’t decipher. He takes a few steps towards us, and I hold my breath, straightening my spine.

“Yes, well, we have other things to discuss, apart from your missing father.” He speaks to Dorian but doesn’t take his eyes off me, taking in my blood-stained pink dress.

“And what might that be?” Dorian asks, taking a step in front of me, blocking his view as I feel Bastian slide around to stand at my back.

Grandfather hums, taking a small step back, studying the three of us. I peek out from behind Dorian, catching our grandfather frowning before Bastian pulls me back.

“I’ve arranged a marriage for your sister. Her intended will be arriving soon, and I wanted to get a start on the plans before that happened, seeing as it will be outside the bloodline.”

My heart sinks, a cold sweat breaking out all over my body as bile rises in my throat.

No.

Bastian snarls as Dorian grows still, his head snapping up. Bastian’s arm circles my waist in a vice grip, and I search for his and Dorian’s hands, unable to stop myself. They each grab one, holding me as tight as I hold them.

“I think you need to change your plans and find a new bride, old man,” Bastian snaps.

Grandfather tilts his head, a mocking smirk playing at his lips. “Why would I need to find a new bride when your sister is perfectly able to fulfil that role?”

Dorian takes a step back, standing at my side, and I do my best to keep the fear from my face.

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