He grabs the metal handle above his head with a grin. “Then brace yourself, Lucky.”

I grab onto the same handle with an air of defiance and raise my brows at him. Our hands brush, but I don’t cower away, leaning into him for balance. I’m wearing high-heels, and so he holds me to him without hesitation, his hand both soft and hard at my waist. The pilot doesn’t spare us a glance as he lands the plane, and before long, a fleet of black SUVs rolls in on the Brazilian tarmac.

Alec adjusts his cufflinks. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Let’s not draw this out.”

The humid air assaults my senses as I step out of the jet, the scent of gasoline and warm asphalt colliding in my sensitive nose. I plug my nose with one hand and forge ahead, the numb tingles in my fingers back full-force.

Alec guides me to the car in the middle of the pack and opens the door for me. “Watch your step, Lucky.”

The Pereira security team takes us all directly to a brightly-lit manor on top of a steep hill. The main building holds three floors with an open terrace on the roof. Hibiscus bushes flank the entrance on both sides, and modern floor-to-ceiling windows offer a wide view of the entrance hall, the Pereira clearly not as rigid about their privacy—or their aversion to sunlight—as we are.

The king stands at the forefront of a red carpet, and his vulture-like gaze hones in on me as soon as I step out of the car. I’ve glimpsed at a few pictures of him over the years, but none of them betrayed his age as much as his hunched posture does, and I grit my teeth.

Lucas’ parents stand behind the king, along with other government officials in full uniforms.

Felipe Pereira grabs my offered hand and kisses it with his dry lips. “Welcome to your new home, Princess Arielle.”

A cold shiver rocks me as I curtsy. “Thank you, your majesty.”

The unobstructed view of the luscious hills steals my breath, my sight eager to latch onto anything but the gnarly man at my side.

“The death of your esteemed brother Ludovic was a tragedy,” the king whispers. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

He says esteemed, but he means feared. His silky voice is about the only thing that doesn’t betray his age, but it’s not pleasant, either. It’s the voice of a man who’s never been told “no”.

I observe the jaw-dropping scenery, sweat trickling down my back. “Thank you, your majesty. His death certainly changed all our lives.”

I never thought my late brother had a redeeming quality, but he knew how to keep the other royal families in line. Leo was right, his death acted as a power vacuum, and this marriage proposal only came because Victor is considered by most to be a pushover.

I risk another glance at my fiancé and immediately regret it. His narrow eyes gleam wickedly, and his tongue darts out to touch his bottom lip like he plans to gobble me up. The elusive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth vanishes as Leo and Quentin come into view. The two humans are whispering instructions to the servants carrying our bags, and Felipe is overtaken by a fit of coughs. “Your first-blood is a man?”

My spine stiffens. “Yes.”

“It is customary for us to choose same-sex servants,” he croaks, his face pale.

“Delacroixs prefer to be more…open-minded.”

He measures me up, his eyes flicking over me like I’m a dirty nickel he found on the street. “It’s a good thing that you won’t be a Delacroix for much longer.”

Bile rises to my mouth. The old-fashioned custom of changing my name to match my husband’s never even crossed my mind, my surname being the most revered one in the world. In France, women keep their maiden names, and I’d always assume I’d do the same.

“Rest now. You must be exhausted. I’ll see you at sundown for our rehearsal dinner.”

A nervous hiccup escapes me. “Rehearsal dinner?” We haven’t even had an engagement party yet. Does he mean to say…

He straightens his tie, his gentle demeanor melting like sugar in the sun. “I’m not a patient man, little rose. We shall marry tomorrow night, during the blood moon, so our goddess Nyx can witness the union.”

Alec’s fingers twitch over his black jacket, the movement infinitely small, and yet so rare for the stealthy assassin. “If he so much as touches her, I’ll end him.”

I force myself to meet Felipe’s gaze and try to convey my contempt for him. “We’ve only just met, your grace. Wouldn’t it be smart to get to know each other, before we commit to each other forever?”

“Why delay the inevitable? I need a queen, and your brother needs an army.”

The contract-nature of our arrangement is perfectly laid out here, and in a way, it makes everything simpler.

I crack a smile. “Why indeed. Please escort me to my rooms. I want to lay down.”