Chapter 17 Understand
SEVENTEEN
UNDERSTAND
ANNALIESE
Ihave to admit: the King’s Court looks different when I’m not here to sell myself.
Last time, I came alone, walking in terrified and desperate, holding my head up high to hide it while praying no one recognized who I was—or how ruined I considered myself to be.
I expected them to grab me, hold me down, and, on Eric’s orders, put the Order’s sigil on my neck so that everyone in Harmony Heights knew I was one of the Used. Instead, Sebastien found me, and when I proposed to him—only the second man I ever slept with—he actually said yes.
And that’s why, this time, I’m finally walking into the Court on Sebastien Reynolds’ arm, and it seems like every single head turns.
I’m being facetious. So many of the Owed are involved in their own vices, but there are enough who recognized my fake husband and have to wonder about the identity of the woman he’s entering the gentleman’s club with instead of leaving it.
I cling to him. The music thrums deep in the floorboards, bass vibrating up my high heels, shades of gold—from the golden sconces on the dark wood walls— washing over the dark red booths and polished bar. It smells like rich alcohol, even richer cologne, and something that screams ‘money’.
Sebastien’s hand rests warmly on my hip as he leans in, brushing a quick kiss to my temple.
“Breathe, love,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
I know, and that’s the only reason why I can walk easily with him as we head right for the bar.
For a heartbeat, I’m not sure why he’s leading me there.
Sure, the first night at the Last Prayer, he had hunkered down on one of the stools; that’s where I found him, after all.
But when he went back, he tucked me inside of a booth.
I’d expected the same treatment here, though I’ll go wherever he wants me to go.
Then, as he guides me around the bar, pointing at the couple with their heads bowed together in conversation as they sit on the same side of the booth, I understand.
It’s Adrian and Loni Heller.
Adrian’s leaning back against the prime leather seat like he owns the damn club—and, who knows, maybe he does—with one arm around his wife’s shoulders, the other playing with a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair.
Like the day I met him at the wedding, he has an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear, and a soft look in his pale green eyes as he gazes down on her.
Loni’s curled up against him, soft in a way I don’t think anyone except for her husband ever gets to see.
Sebastien clears his throat right before he guides me to slip into the empty seat opposite the married couple.
Adrian glances up. His features shadow over, like he’s pissed to have been interrupted, though the darkness fades away when he recognizes that Sebastien is climbing in to sit next to me.
“Bas. It’s you,” Adrian greets, flicking his eyes over me with calculating interest before he nods at Sebastien. “Should’ve known better. You’re always early. Perfect. We can go have a chat real quick.”
Huh?
Sebastien sighs. “Do we have to do this now? We just arrived.”
Adrian snorts. “You’ve got a brand on your palm and a ring on your finger.
You’re not a bachelor anymore, and that means you’re on the hook.
Do it for Dallas. But,” he adds, glancing at me, “we won’t be long.
I’ll bring your husband back to you in no time.
Until then, my wife will keep you company. ”
Loni waves. “Hi.”
Beneath the table, Sebastien squeezes my knee, then climbs out of the booth.
Adrian leans in over, kissing Loni’s cheek. “Princess,” he murmurs.
“I’m holding you to it, Heller. Hurry back.”
He flashes her a grin, and then both of our husbands are gone, stalking across the dance floor to find a quiet corner to talk their Order business out of earshot of the ladyfolk.
Sure.
Okay.
Whatever.
I adjust my skirt under my then glance at my new companion. Loni doesn’t seem to mind that we’ve been abandoned. Following her lead, I try not to let it bother me, either.
Instead, I say, “Can I ask you a question?”
She looks surprised. “Sure. Shoot.”
I tap my ear. “What’s the deal with the cigarette? Every time I’ve seen your husband, he has one.”
Loni’s hazel eyes seem to sparkle in the dim, atmospheric light. “Oh, that? Adrian used to be a smoker.” A small private smile tugs on her lips. “He quit for me. He keeps it there as a reminder. Would he rather smoke or kiss me? As long as he doesn’t light up, I’ll kiss him whenever he wants.”
My cheeks warm. “Sebastien insists that I give him a kiss ‘hello’ and a kiss ‘goodbye’ whenever I see him.”
She doesn’t look surprised to hear that. Maybe that’s just how their crew is…
“How are things with you and Bas anyway? I’m so glad you’re here. He keeps you all to himself, and I’ve been dying to check in, make sure you’re doing okay.”
The way Loni says that, it seems like a good thing that my husband is hiding me. Instead of remarking on that, though, I find myself asking, “You call him that, too?”
“You mean ‘Bas’? Of course. It’s his nickname.” Loni frowns. “What do you call him?”
“Um. His real name. Sebastien.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Ah. Someone’s special. As I recall, he used to beat the crap out of boys back in school when called him that. He was always a scrapper.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Adrian says it’s because he was always so sensitive about being pretty.
Like, he wanted to prove himself, prove he wasn’t the Reynolds they wanted him to be all because his dad was supposed to be King before he stepped down and Jack Collins took over.
” Loni’s nose scrunches up as she mentions the former King.
I take it she’s not a fan, which is good because, after all the ways Eric threatened me with the close friendship he had with the King, I kinda hate the dead Jack Collins, too.
“He used to be in detention more than anyone else in our grade.”
“Really?” I ask. “I… I didn’t know that.”
There’s a lot I don’t know about my husband, I’m beginning to realize…
“Oh, yeah. It only got worse while I was gone.” Loni taps her nose. “He broke that a couple of times.” She gestures over her eyes. “Heard he got in a knife fight with some cocked Owed and got that scar.”
I know exactly what scar she’s talking about, too. Maybe that’s why I stare at her now. “You know an awful lot about my husband.”
“He’s one of Adrian’s brothers. If he’s important to Adrian, that means he’s important to me.” She leans over the table, a touch conspiratorially. “Besides… of the five Heirs, Bas was probably the smallest asshole.”
That’s good to hear. Only…. “Five Heirs?”
Loni leans back again. Lifting her hand, she ticks them off on her fingers. “Yeah. That’s what I used to call their group of five when we were in school together because we all knew they’d lead the Order one day. There’s Adrian, Dallas, Connor, Bas, and Desmond.”
Desmond. I know him—or of him. “Desmond St. James, right? I know him. He worked with…” I stop short before I can say Eric’s name, replacing it instead with a gulp, and, “He was killed—”
Loni doesn’t notice my near slip. Her hazel eyes going dark, she cuts me off. “At my wedding.”
Oh. “I… I thought I heard something about that. He was supposed to get married to an Offering.”
Eric told me. About how Jack had thought about demoting an Offering for having sex before marriage, but that I shouldn’t get any idea… he only did so because the St. Jameses paid him to reinstate the Offering so that Desmond could Claim her.
It didn’t work out too well for the son of one of Eric’s partners. Someone shot him dead, taking his place, all because of… “Didn’t it have something to do with blood?”
Loni looks surprised that I would know that. “Yeah. You’re right. Adrian had a blood oath.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t know?” Loni cocks her head slightly. “I thought you were an Offering.”
I was supposed to be.
“We were first generation,” I say instead, explaining myself. “My dad got invited to join the Order when I was in middle school.”
Now she nods. “So you didn’t go through Offering training.” A wistful look crosses her pretty face. “Lucky.”
I guess. The way I see it, I went from being an average Harmony Heights citizen to one of them at a pivotal time in my life.
Miranda was only four. She grew up knowing what was expected of her.
Not me. When I hit eighteen, it was no surprise that I wasn’t chosen—wasn’t Claimed—since no one knew who I was…
and that’s when Eric came along and I never had a chance to be the Offering they wanted me to be.
I don’t want to tell her that, though. I just… I’m not ready.
But I am curious.
“So… blood oath?”
“It’s something one of the Owed does,” Loni says.
“Just to make sure that they can Claim their bride before the Claiming ceremony in August. It’s really only done when an Owed is afraid that more than one of them might try to Claim the same Offering.
It’s a promise made in blood, a promise they make to protect you to the death—yours or theirs.
If the King seals it, nothing can come between you. ”
That’s good to know. I mean, I’ll never have that with Sebastien, but maybe if Eric tries to threaten my sister’s standing again, I can tell her about it. Colt loves Randa. I’m sure he’ll sign some blood oath thing to make sure that he gets to Claim her this August—
Hang on.
“Loni? Are you okay?”
Her features are twisted in a look of pure jealousy. She’s not peering in my direction, though. Instead, she’s glaring at the dance floor.
I follow the direction of her stare.
Adrian is shaking off one of the Used; it’s easy to pick them out now, from the heavily made-up faces to the classy yet skimpy dresses they wear. She pouts as he stalks away from her, making a beeline for our table.