Chapter 22
Nelle
Achange in my father occurred at the desperation of our situation. Rage blazed through his eyes, turning their color to an icy blue. He spun toward the crowd gathered on the rooftop, his piercing gaze sweeping through the Houses as he searched for someone.
“Where the hells is Zielenski?!” he bellowed at his bodyguard while furiously tugging his suit jacket off and thrusting it at one of his men. “Find him and bring him to me!”
I couldn’t see Zielenski, nor Lila, anywhere.
Rising onto my toes and craning my neck, I scanned the room and realized Valarie wasn’t present either.
A ripple of movement at the back of the crowd snagged my attention and had me swiveling in its direction.
The Houses were parting, drawing aside to create a path for someone hurrying to my father’s side.
I blinked, shock sparking along my nerves as I rolled onto the flat of my feet. My mother, flanked by a pair of bodyguards, the velvet skirt of her dress clinging to her frail frame, hurried toward my father.
My father spun to where Kenton had positioned himself near a cluster of brass candelabras. He punched a fist through the air to stab a finger at Graysen’s eldest brother. “You! Come here!”
Shadows slid across the broad plane of Kenton’s cheekbones when he tilted his head, arching a solitary eyebrow before dipping his chin in acquiescence.
He approached with a calculating stride, an intrigued, cold smile plastered on his lips, almost as if he found my father a worthy opponent.
My father shook with fury, hands fisted and body tense.
My mother reached him and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing hard.
I saw, rather than heard, the word form on her lips. “Calm.”
The word my father always said to me when my temper was on the cusp of boiling over.
He’d unearthed the adamere heirloom in our treasure trove after that long year of being shoved in and out of the tithe prison by my terrified mother.
As a child, I’d sat on his lap in his office, dangling the necklace from my fingers while watching sunlight sparkle off the adamere beads as I twisted the long loop this way and that.
He’d been the one to shape my mantra to keep my composure in check.
My father covered her hand with his own, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze, and with the action, he calmed enough to contain his anger.
My mother pressed closer, her elegant eyebrows slanting into an anxious angle as her gaze flitted nervously about the upper ranks, darting to the murkiness swirling beyond the tall columns and the strange eyes peering outward, before skittering over the thinly veiled alcoves shadowed with oblivious couples still thrusting into one another.
I doubted she’d ever attended the Emporium.
Though she was the Matriarch of the Great House, my father had kept the darker nature of the Houses separate from her.
Not that it was hard. She’d become listless and lifeless after Tabitha Crowther’s abduction.
Their hands separated, and my stomach lurched to see a vial clutched in my mother’s bony fingers.
She was still relying on the tiny white pills to take off the raw edge of reality.
But while her gaze appeared dulled by chemicals, my father’s was bright and sharp.
Despite this awful reunion, he looked good, though a little disheveled from his rush to reach me.
Here was the man I remembered as a child, with that formidable bearing as he faced off against Kenton.
His complexion had lost that blotchy sheen, and I wondered if he’d stopped drinking.
A small smile tugged at my mouth as warmth spread through my heart at the thought that, in a strange way, our separation had done him some good.
I watched my mother’s mind scrambling at what I wore and the fact that I stood upon the pedestal like an offering to the Gods…
or the Houses. Her eyes flared impossibly wide as she honed in on something on my body.
She swayed slightly as the color drained from her cheeks.
For an awful heartbeat, I feared she was about to faint.
“Byron…” she rasped.
My father whipped his furious gaze from Kenton to where my mother stared in horror at what was shifting restlessly around my throat. Though he grew as pale as she did, he vibrated with chilling wrath tainted by fear.
Oh gods…
Furyos Bonefall.
My parents turned to one another slowly, sharing a swift, sorrowful look, before my father’s gaze met mine, filled now with useless guilt.
He understood the relic’s message. With one word, the Crowthers could reveal I was other.
Though the conditions of the Alverac meant I was under no obligation to follow their orders without Graysen present, his family knew my darkest secret and had effectively collared us both and bent us to their will.
He swiveled around to fully face the upper ranks.
He still reigned over the Houses, and his posture became iron-boned and imperious.
A stance I often emulated. He was, after all, the man I’d spent most of my spare time growing up with.
Both of us sloped up our chins, staring callously at those present.
Every inch of his stiffened physique burned with fierce authority.
And as if coming out of a daze, the Houses remembered they were in the presence of their ruler, and they, along with the Crowthers and every servant present, bowed before my parents.
As the Houses straightened, my father stalked back and forth, his infuriated gaze sliding over the crowd, mentally noting every man and woman present. A churlish smirk slipped over my lips as vengeance stirred in my bloodstream. They were all going to pay for this. My father would ensure it.
The servants went back to refilling drinks and beating the hot air with their fans. Kenton continued approaching, wandering lazily through the throng to arrive before my parents.
“What is the meaning of this?!” my father demanded. “Where is Graysen?”
Kenton slid both hands into his pockets in a casual move, looking as if he were there for a chat rather than informing the Head of the Houses that he was acting as his daughter’s pimp. “He’s indisposed at present. You’ll be dealing with me.”
My mother’s fearful gaze darted briefly to those gathered on the rooftop. Plenty of men and women would want a piece of me to humiliate him further. A shaky hand kneaded her throat. “Please, you can’t do this to my daughter.”
I realized that Jett, still standing beside me, was fixated on my parents, greedily drinking in every morsel of their discomfort. The prick grinned and spoke loud enough for them to hear. “The bidding is almost at an end. He’s not going to let anyone else win you.”
My attention sliced to the older man intent on winning the auction. The angle of his position, with a few of the Crowthers’ extended family members and bodyguards surrounding him, made it impossible for my parents to have a direct line of sight.
Nausea rose in my stomach and acid stung the back of my throat.
Oh gods.
I wrung my hands together and begged Mother Skalki that this wasn’t going to happen tonight, that my parents wouldn’t witness the degradation of me being sold. Would I be leaving with this stranger? Would he take me here at the Emporium, or elsewhere?
“I can’t believe you’d do this to me…” The words escaped before I could stop them. “Especially after…” Danne.
Jett and his family knew I’d been trapped in a limousine with that repulsive man.
It confused me why the Crowthers would put me through this.
I couldn’t understand their decision to break my father through me in this vile manner.
Earlier, Kenton had even shown unease at the plan.
Jett hated the Pellans. All the Crowthers did for what Danne had tried to do to Ferne.
Jett had just proven it with Corné. He’d been compassionate when I’d nearly had a panic attack at his presence.
Jett’s gaze swung to mine, and surprise flickered through me. For a moment, I swore I saw shame tormenting him before he yanked his gaze away, his shoulders curving inward slightly. I licked my dry lips before asking, “When?” My voice was hoarse and barely a whisper.
“When—what?”
“When’s all this supposed to happen?”
“Oh… ah…” He cleared his throat, waving his hand distractedly. “Whenever he decides.”
Like Jett, I refocused on my father’s heated argument with Kenton. His voice was pitched too low for me to hear everything, but I could see by his aggravated gestures and the clipped way he spoke, the angry curl of his mouth and fists, that he wasn’t being polite.
I caught only a few words my father aimed at him, arrows cutting through Kenton’s stoic facade. After Danne… Assaulted… You’d subject her to this?
And in astonishment, I watched the older brother flinch. I’d never seen anyone but Penn pierce Kenton’s austere armor.
Caidan too was listening in with his heightened hearing. Strangely, he looked so sickly that he seemed on the verge of throwing up all over his shoes.
My wide-eyed gaze shifted to the bid-winning man, taking in his weathered features that spoke of long hours outdoors. Ashen-faced, he was hunched forward and incredibly nervous.
A familiar twang jarred along my bones, and I frowned. That same feeling from before crept upon me—that I’d met or seen him somewhere else before. He brought the warmth of dappled sunshine upon my skin, the fresh scent of grass clippings.
I relaxed my mind and let it wander, marking the sensations that rose deep within me. My senses tingled with the phantom scent of greenery, the tinny ringing of metal bells on bike handles, children’s laughter and gentle chiding. Sunshine in a clear blue sky. The sweet smell of roses.
A vague vision began to form.
Then sharpened to an image of this man kneeling on a grassy lawn, his fingers brown with soil as he tended a flowerbed.