Page 144 of Auctioned

Ruining the same thing my ancestors and Oliver’s have built isn’t just about me anymore.

Her life. Her next breath. Our future.

Together.

This is what it’s about.

The comfortable silence lasts until I put the dishes—except for her water glass, which is still half full—in the dishwasher.

She. Has. To be. Prepared.

I stand next to her chair. “Get up.”

She blinks, the movement slow. Her exhaustion is palpable. I could use some sleep too. At least for an hour.

No time.

“I said.” My hand is in her damp hair, pulling her out of the chair. Our enemies won’t be considerate. They won’t give a damn if the day wore her out. My dad sure didn’t. “Get. Up.”

“Your eyes.” Of course she sees through me. Notices the change in my mood. We’ve spent hours together. She’s observant. Clever. The perfect person to rule alongside me. “What did I do?”

“The pen to my neck was a good start.” My harsh tone, glare, and words help clear the confusion from her eyes. “I was still able to fuck you, though. I overpowered you. You’re not ready.”

“For what?” This question. The determination in her voice. She demands the truth.

She’s owed the truth.

“The last auction wasn’t supposed to happen.” I tug on her hair until she looks up, right into my eyes. “I’d figured Oliver would come to his senses. That together we could end this. He didn’t.”

No words come out of her mouth. No crying about how harsh I’m being. That’s a good sign—she’s studying her opponent. She’s stronger than the pain.

She makes it easy to open up to her, so I do. I tell her more in detail about the initiations, our bloodline, our traditions. I tell her more about the auction house, the business I consider taking down as well.

I’m ready to put this world behind me. Never look back.

We’ll decide on it later. Together.

“You’re more powerful than he’ll ever be.” Ophelia has no way of knowing that. Then again, I have to be the most fucked-up man she’s ever met. I guess that makes me the most powerful one in her eyes. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

My lips quirk to the side. “I would’ve if I thought he’d refuse. I didn’t, and the element of surprise was gone. Obliterated.” I tug harder on her hair, reminding her to stay alert. “You should always have the edge on your opponents, and I lost mine that day. As soon as the words left my mouth, he turned suspicious. Since then, I had to wait for the right time to make his disappearance acceptable.”

Coward. Procrastinator. Loser. She could’ve called me any of those names.

None of that for Ophelia. If anyone understands me in this world, it’s her.

I’m going to kill Oliver and Camden on my terms. When the time is right.

When they least expect it.

Her jaw tics. Eyebrows lowering. She’s so expressive, I might as well be having a tour inside her mind. Watching her cogs spinning.

“I won’t be caught off guard again.”

“I know.” Her passion is tempting. I lower my lips to her jaw, brushing them along her soft skin, sucking on the area below her ear, groaning at her sweet shivering.

“What now?”

“There’s still the matter of stopping the forced pregnancies. And you. I’m done locking you up in here like some dirty secret. Problem is, you. Are. Not. Ready.” My shadow casts over her. My eyes bore into hers. She’s hiding something. “The picture I shoved in your face while I was fucking you? You were vulnerable. Exposed. You won’t be that person anymore around anyone else but me. I’m going to teach you to fight.”

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