Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Martine Lilian Huntington-Russell
It’s Dale Danton-Taft.
She sits beside me, one elbow propped on the long communal table, twirling a pen between her red-tipped fingers. Her green eyes flick up to mine, assessing, and then she smirks.
“Well, look who it is,” Dale says, drawing out the words like she finds them amusing.
I force a tight smile. “Hi,” I was never good at making friends. Truthfully, I never thought I needed them. Between my busy schedule, horseback riding, and my brothers, I was content.
“Don’t sound too excited,” she leans back slightly with a laugh, watching me like she’s waiting for a reaction I’m yet to give her.
I exhale through my nose, shaking my head. “Just surprised to see you, is all.”
Dale tilts her head, her smirk widening. “You and me both. Though I have to admit, I was a bit worried when you fell off the face of the earth.”
I arch an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
She shrugs, giving me a partial answer. “You’re dating Hayden Herron, right?”
My stomach tightens, thinking about the intensity of the morning with the lawyer, but I keep my expression neutral. “You seem to know a considerable amount about me.”
Dale laughs at my expression, so easygoing, a woman with a sharp wit.
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a pack of French slim cigarettes, offering me one. I shake my head, and she smiles.
They still allow you to smoke in most indoor places at Eulogia, with ashtrays dispersed throughout the hall. I’ve never picked up the habit.
“I’m a woman with great intel,” she jokes, and I shrug.
“I promise I’m not meaning to be rude, I just have a horrible habit of being forward,” she smiles, and I can’t help but laugh.
Students fill in around us as they grab seats to study and prepare for class.
I look at the Nokia in my hand, but can’t ignore the gnawing feeling I have.
I’ve only just left Hayden, so why do I suddenly want to use the phone to call him?
I’ve heard in the past about a Taft dating one of the most ruthless Bonesmen. I guess I never realized it was this Taft, even though it was right in front of me all along. I know I shouldn’t pry; in fact, it’s something I’m accusing her of. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
I let curiosity get the best of me, leaning in slightly, keeping my voice low. "Did you and Hayden ever date?"
Dale doesn’t react immediately. Instead, she keeps her eyes on the front of the room, tapping her cigarette against the ashtray built into the communal desk. Then, slowly, she turns her head toward me, her smirk deepening.
"Now why would you want to know that?" she asks, amusement lacing her tone.
I roll my eyes, wanting to know, considering the intensity of the contract I know Hayden will have waiting for me this evening, but instead I opt for coy. "It’s a simple question."
"And you’re avoiding telling me why you asked it."
I purse my lips, waiting.
She leans in just a little, like she’s letting me in on a secret. "Let’s just say, Hayden Herron and I have history. Whether that history includes dating? Well…" Her smirk turns almost predatory. "That depends on how you choose to look at it."
I don’t know what annoys me more, her answer or the fact that it gets under my skin.
She watches me for a moment longer, her gaze assessing, as if deciding whether to let me off easy or let me drown in the truth. Then she takes a long drag of her cigarette and exhales, slow and deliberate.
"I was his Chosen."
The words settle between us, thick and heavy. My stomach tightens.
I blink. "You were his what?"
Dale leans back, stretching her arms lazily before setting her cigarette down in the ashtray with an air of indifference that I don’t believe for a second.
"You know what a Chosen is, right?" she asks, tilting her head slightly. "The Brotherhood of Death doesn’t leave things to chance. They assign us roles, partners, and alliances. I was Hayden’s. Chosen for him by the Brotherhood."
My pulse stutters, something uneasy curling in my chest. “Meant to be?”
Dale nods, her gaze sharp, knowing. "A perfect match, according to them. Seriously, Martine,” She stops, looking at me with a scrunched up face, “Your family created in the Brotherhood, for God sake.”
I just shake my head, feeling weighed down by the number of secrets the men around me kept.
“Anyways,” she continues, “power paired with power. We were supposed to rise together or something prophetic like that." She lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. "But you know Hayden. He doesn’t bend for any choice he doesn’t make himself."
My throat feels tight. "So you were…together?"
Dale laughs, but the sound is hollow, bitter. "No, actually, he wanted nothing to do with me."
She picks up her cigarette again, flicking it with her fingers before tapping it against the desk ashtray, as if choosing her following words carefully.
"Hayden doesn’t do what he’s told."
I swallow hard, my mind racing.
"Truthfully, it worked out for me," she continues, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "Avoiding each other for a year was hard, but…we did it somehow.”
I don’t know why that admission sends something sharp through me. A twisting sensation I don’t fully understand, nor don’t want to. I’m not entirely sure I believe her.
Who wouldn’t want Hayden?
Dale smirks slightly as if reading my reaction, but there’s something almost tired in her expression. "Don’t look so surprised. Hayden is ruthless, so we both know he’s unpredictable."
Her gaze flickers over me, a smile passing through her eyes.
"And yet…here you are,” she continues, “Anyways, I see him at events, we put on our show.”
I’m not sure if it’s a statement or an accusation. Maybe both. I look around as the library starts cleaning out, students heading to their courses.
She tilts her head, studying me. "You, though…he’s different with you, isn’t he?"
I exhale slowly. How does Dale know so much about me?
“I don’t understand how you just got away with not committing to each other.” I press. Frustrated at how she maintains a vague air, like she knows she’s the one with the upper hand.
That’s how it is. Unless you know the right questions to ask, you’ll chase your tail forever with the people who attend Eulogia.
She watches me carefully, then shakes her head, lips still curved in that smirk. "I’m surprised you’re so in the dark about all of this, considering I thought you were a Chosen, too."
A cold chill runs down my spine, and I cock a brow. "Excuse me?"
She tilts her head, eyes flickering with amusement. “Weren’t you Archibald Franklin’s Chosen? I mean, I’m only assuming."
My breath catches, and for a moment, I can’t think, I can’t speak—my pulse pounds in my ears.
Archie was always around, but only because he was part of the Society with my brothers, and they attended boarding school together. He grew up with us, so he was always near me.
But he’s a playboy. Plain and simple. A spoiled, cocky rake who acts as if life is a game and people are mere pieces to be moved around.
He isn’t some romantic figure; I see him like a sibling someone else picked out for me.
He once tried to drown me at our chateau in Cheverny when I was eight, just because he thought it was funny. That’s the kind of person he is.
Everyone loves Archie. He can charm anyone, parents, teachers, and staff.
He knows exactly how to talk to people, how to look at them.
But he doesn’t take anything seriously. He is reckless, arrogant, and always chasing attention.
I thought he annoyed my father, but when I found out he was supposed to be my husband, it seemed quite naive of me to think we would end up as anything else.
Now, with the knowledge of how a Chosen works, I suddenly feel so silly. I grew up in this world, but what stopped me from asking the right questions? What stopped my mother from preparing me?
I swallow hard. "I—" I shake my head, almost laughing at how absurd this sounds. "I feel like I just chose not to see what was right in front of me."
Dale raises a brow, clearly entertained by my reaction. "Would you have? the Brotherhood doesn’t exactly hand out orientation pamphlets. Plus, you never completed the initiation anyway. I was just assuming you were bound to him?"
I press my hands against my thighs, trying to steady the strange feeling creeping over me. "This is ridiculous. If I were his Chosen, then why didn’t we complete the ceremony?"
She just shrugs, looking slightly suspicious of my reaction.
“Do you know what the ceremony is?” I press.
Dale exhales through her nose, tilting her head like she’s examining a puzzle. “It’s a secret Society, Martine. I can only know so much,” she says, pulling a face that makes me laugh under my breath. “Plus, I missed mine because of you.”
“I didn’t mess things up too poorly, for you did I?” I pry, worry etched on my face.
She only nods quickly once, looking around us to check no one is eavesdropping on our conversation.
Dale watches me for a beat before leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table, her voice quieter now. "The Chosen ceremony isn’t optional. It’s the final step before two people are bound by blood. And once it’s done, it’s irreversible. My family isn’t pleased I missed mine."
I blink, shaking my head. "By BLOOD?" I shriek a bit too loudly for the library, and the student to the left of us shushes me.
Her gaze flickers with something knowing, like she’s enjoying peeling back the layers of a secret I should have already known. "All I know is it’s as contractual as it is bloody."
"Then why didn’t anything happen?" I press. "Why didn’t I go through the ceremony? Why didn’t you?"
Dale smirks, but there’s something sharper beneath it. "Because you disappeared with Hayden before the ceremony."
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach.
"No," I breathe, shaking my head. "That wasn’t—"