Page 22 of Brutal Revelation

Crippling self-doubt freezes me in place.

What if we actually have to marry Samantha?

Sweat trickles down the back of my neck.

What if we have to let her go forever?

I’m not ready for the maelstrom of emotions I’ve buried deep, with no intention of unpacking anytime soon, to burst free. The onslaught forcing my eyes closed as if that will ward off the anchor of inadequacy and guilt.

Gasping for air, I pull at the invisible chain around my neck—my nails digging into the flesh of my throat, scraping across my Adam’s apple. It feels like hands are yanking the metal tight, the links compressing my airway. Spots begin to dance in my vision as I struggle with my grip on reality.

I haven’t let myself process, incapable of showing even a moment of weakness—to be vulnerable and admit the crater-sized hole in my chest is from the loss of the first person I’ve had touch me without feeling like a million ants were crawling all over my skin.

Ariah entered Edgewood like wildfire, engulfing everyone and everything in her wake but not seeking to destroy. Instead, she blazed a path for rebirth. Like a fucking phoenix.

Staccato breaths hit my ears, and I know I’m losing my battle with consciousness. My last thought before my world blinks black summing up the totality of the situation.

Another area I’ve failed.

12

WES

“When we agreed to turn over the reins of the Fraternitas, you gave us certain assurances. The Council was supposed to solidify the power through the union of the five original bloodlines for the first time in history,” a woman’s stern voice chastises.

We sit and watch from the wall of TV monitors in Lev’s room as the Council meets with a group of people we’ve never seen before.

“How the hell did you get cameras in there?” Sebastian asks.

“I have my ways” is the only answer Lev provides.

He’s been more focused in the days leading up to the engagement announcement party—more withdrawn than usual. He’s always been more inclined to hang back, but this level of isolation is unusual for him, especially since he showed up with red claw marks down his throat. Yet another thing he’s been tight-lipped about. It caused an argument that almost came to blows until Sebastian stepped in and reminded everyone there was no way Lev would let another woman that was not Ariah touch him, much less mark his skin.

“We have things under control,” my father replies to the woman sitting across from him. Her umber complexion is flawless against her cream suit. She’s stunning, but it’s the level of deference I’ve never seen my father award anyone before that has my attention. “Senator Baker and his sister are a problem that we will have in hand in due time.”

My focus cuts from the screen to see if anyone else notices the Council’s demeanor toward this group.

“Who are these people?” Owen questions.

I hear fingers clicking against keys, and I know Lev is already investigating.

My attention returns to the screen as the woman arches her onyx brow in my father’s direction as she narrows her smoked-honey gaze. “Donald, you and the Fraternitas have until the Tribunal. The Novus Ordo Seclorum has been patient enough,” she seethes, then stands, making everyone follow suit.

“We understand. Please relay our gratitude to the Princeps and assure them everything is still on track,” my father explains.

“See that you do. Otherwise, we’ll send a team to clean up your mess—you and the Council included.” With that, the meeting ends, and the group makes their exit.

It’s quiet for a moment before my father speaks. “Now you all know what’s at stake.” We wait for him to continue, thinking he’s about to impart more information. Instead, their chairs turn and they look up. “We have less than a year.” Then, the signal in the room cuts out.

“They fucking knew,” Wyatt snarls, looking at Lev. “Did you know?”

Lev’s nostrils flare. “Of course, I didn’t. I had signal blockers on and a looped feed while I planted the damn device. I’m not an idiot. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“None of that fucking matters. The Chosen announcement party starts in five hours and based on what I just saw we need a plan. So, stop all your goddamn bickering, and let’s figure out how to end the sister fucker and get our girl back,” Owen shouts.

The room stills for what feels like forever until Sebastian finally ends the heavy silence. “I have a plan.”

* * *

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