Chapter 27
The Palace lived up to its name in every possible way.
As I stepped out of the limousine, my breath caught at the sight of towering marble columns that framed the entrance, each one intricately carved with scenes I couldn't quite make out in the dim evening light.
Even outside of the great hall there was a red carpet from the road, a man in a simple black suit holding a tray of champagne in crystal flutes as we made our way towards the steps.
I could see through the massive gold gilded doors that crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting prismatic rainbows across the polished floors.
It was like stepping into a fairy-tale castle, a princess's dream come to life.
Except I was no princess. I was a scholarship girl playing dress-up in a world that could crush me without a second thought.
"Close your mouth, Princess," Logan whispered as he appeared at my side, his hand coming to rest possessively at the small of my back. "You'll catch flies." I snapped my jaw shut, not even realising it had been hanging open.
"It's just... a lot," I admitted, unable to stop my eyes from darting around, taking in every gilded surface, every perfectly dressed guest.
"Wait until you see the ballroom," Ryder said, materialising on my other side. His eyes were bright with excitement, none of the tension that gripped Logan and Cole visible in his expression. "It's like something out of a movie."
Cole trailed behind us, his face unnaturally pale. The hand that wasn't holding his drink was clenched at his side, knuckles white. I wanted to reach for him, to offer some comfort, but Logan's grip on my back tightened, guiding me forward.
"Remember," Logan murmured close to my ear, sending a traitorous shiver down my spine, "stay close. No wandering off."
"I remember," I replied, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. I wasn't a child, despite how they sometimes treated me.
We moved through the grand entrance hall, and I quickly lost track of the number of people who stopped us, or rather, stopped the Regents.
Hands were shaken, backs were slapped, congratulations were offered.
I caught snippets of conversation, "... fine work with the Blackwood situation," and ".
.. Nicholas must be proud," and "... quite the Consort you've found yourselves", but the names and faces blurred together.
Ryder handled it all with effortless charm, staying close to Luce and me, introducing me with a proprietary hand on my hip or shoulder.
Cole remained silent, offering tight nods when addressed directly.
And Logan was coiled tension in human form, his eyes constantly scanning the room, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
"Ah, there you are." A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the buzz of conversation.
A tall man with blond hair greying at the temples approached, his expression severe.
He looked like an older, harder version of Ryder, and I knew immediately this must be Aaron Purcell, his father.
"Fashionably late, I see," he said, directing his comments to Stephen.
"City traffic," Stephen replied smoothly. "Nothing we could control."
"Perhaps if you'd stayed at the same hotel as I suggested, you wouldn't have had to navigate the city at all, little brother," Aaron countered, his smile tight and false.
Before Stephen could respond, Aaron turned to introduce the man at his side, a distinguished-looking gentleman in his fifties with steel-grey hair and a calculating gaze.
"Mr Kaserwick," Logan said, stepping forward with a sudden burst of charm that startled me. "My father has mentioned you often. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
As Logan shook the man's hand, I caught the subtle look he shot Ryder, a signal of some kind. Ryder nodded almost imperceptibly.
"If you'll excuse us," Logan said smoothly, "I believe Mr Kaserwick and I have some business to discuss. Perhaps you'd care to join us, Mr Purcell?" With practised ease, Logan steered Aaron and Mr Kaserwick away from our group, leaving Ryder, Cole, Luce, Stephen, and me standing in a small circle.
"That was smooth," Luce whispered, a hint of admiration in her voice.
"Logan's good at that," Ryder agreed, his eyes following his father's retreating back. "He'll keep Dad occupied for a while." He turned to me with a grin. "So, what do you think of The Palace, Poison? Everything you dreamed of?"
"It's... overwhelming," I admitted, looking around at the sea of designer gowns and tailored suits. "I feel like everyone's staring at me."
"They are," Cole said, speaking for the first time since we'd entered. His voice was tight. "You're the Covenant Consort. Of course they're looking."
"And you look fucking incredible," Ryder added, his eyes darkening as they swept over me.
"That dress was worth every penny. It looks amazing on you.
" He pulled me in close, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck before whispering in my ear.
“Although I reckon it would look amazing on my bedroom floor.” I felt heat rise to my cheeks.
Despite everything, despite the manipulation, the control, the twisted game we played, part of me still responded to their attention, to their desire.
It was a weakness I hated and craved in equal measure.
“Ryder,” I scolded, but couldn’t help but smile at the twinkle in his eyes. He chuckled and leant in, brushing his lips against mine, almost feather light, allowing me to close the distance. Once I did, he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening their hold on me.
"Oh look," Luce said suddenly, causing me to break away from Ryder with a blush on my face. I glanced over at Cole, who gave me a smile, before turning to a grinning Luce. She pointed across the room.
"There's Megan and some of the other girls. Want to say hi?" I nodded, sending her a sharp look.
"Sure." I said pulling away from a reluctant Ryder.
“Cock block,” Ryder muttered and Luce stuck her tongue out at him.
I playfully tapped his shoulder, and he kissed my forehead before finally letting me go.
I turned and took Luce’s hand and we made our way through the crowd with Ryder following close behind.
Cole hung back with Luce’s father, his eyes fixed on some distant point, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Megan, Hannah, and Sylvia stood near one of the massive windows with a bunch of other girls I recognised from the Courts house, each dressed in gowns that probably cost more than my grandparents' house.
Megan's was a deep emerald that complemented her new red hair, while Hannah wore a champagne-coloured dress that shimmered with each movement.
Sylvia, always the most understated of the group, wore a simple black gown that somehow managed to outshine the others in its elegance.
"Cade!" Sylvia greeted me with genuine warmth, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "You look amazing."
"Thanks," I smiled, relaxing slightly in the presence of familiar faces. "So do all of you."
"The purple is perfect with your hair," Hannah said, her tone surprisingly free of the cattiness I'd grown accustomed to. Maybe the glamour of the night had softened even her sharp edges.
“Thank you,” I said, with a grateful smile. I looked around the room quickly, seeing a few others that I recognised from Regents University. “No Julia?” I asked Hannah, and she shrugged almost nonchalantly.
“No, and thank god,” she huffed. “I can do without a night of her bossing me around.” My eyes widened, and Megan leant in and whispered.
“Melody banned Julia from coming tonight. Logan reached out and requested that she wasn’t here so as not to upset you.
” My mouth opened in surprise as she spoke.
I had to admit, the idea of feeling this much like an imposter would have been made so much worse with Julia’s usual bitchiness.
I glanced around the room again and saw Logan was watching me.
He raised his glass and nodded at me with a smile and I couldn’t help but smile back, before turning to the girls again.
We quickly fell into an easy conversation about the event, the venue, the other guests, our dresses.
For a moment, it almost felt normal, just a group of college girls at a fancy party, excited and a little out of our depth.
But the illusion of normalcy shattered when a man approached our small circle, his movements fluid and predatory.
He was tall and lean, with dark hair streaked with silver at the temples and eyes so dark they seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
His smile was perfect, too perfect, like it had been practised in a mirror until it achieved the exact right balance of charm and menace.
"Sylvia, my dear," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Your brother is around here somewhere. You should really go and say hello; he's been asking after you." Sylvia's posture stiffened, her face closing off.
"He's not my brother," she said coldly. "And I have nothing to say to him." The man's smile didn't falter, but something in his eyes hardened.
"Family is family, my dear. You know that as well as I do." He drank from the champagne flute in his hand. “Where is young Matthew, anyway?” Sylvia sighed and pointed across the room to where there were a group of guys, some I recognised as archive Regents.
“He’s right over there,” Silvia said, the irritation in her voice. “So you don’t need to send Drake looking for him again.” The man laughed but there was no humour in it.
“Just looking out for my assets, dear, you know that.” I glanced at Luce who was looking uncomfortable and noticed the other girls all seemed to have gone quiet as well. This guy clearly had a reputation.
Then his gaze shifted to me, and a chill ran down my spine. His eyes widened fractionally, and that perfect smile curved into something more genuine, and infinitely more terrifying.