Chapter 1
Chapter One
FIVE YEARS LATER
ROSALIA
“Hurry,” I laugh, holding Vero’s hand as she follows me through the crowd toward our blanket. We’re attending Shakespeare in the Park today, and the summer sun feels wonderful as it slowly sets.
This is our day of freedom, and I fully intend to enjoy every moment.
“We have time,” Vero laughs, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. We went to the corner store for snacks and bought small bottles of alcohol with her identification.
She’s about three months older than I am, though she’s never made a big deal about the age difference.
Her hair is pulled up in a French pin to keep it off her neck, and I’m blown away by how ethereal she appears. Her skin is clear of freckles, though I know from experience that there are a few along the bridge of her nose I enjoy kissing.
“I know,” I say, dropping onto our blanket breathlessly.
The truth is that I don’t want to miss a moment of her body pressed against mine. We have pillows piled up behind our heads, something she packed in a bag to ensure we’d be comfortable. She loves Shakespeare as much as I do, so I bought tickets to this as soon as I saw them go on sale.
My lips twitch as I remember when she told me her mother named her Verona, so she was cursed to be a romantic forever. I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.
The last couple of months have had so many incredible performances all over the city, and I’ve bought tickets to all of them under the guise that I’m engaging in the culture our community has to offer. It’s a load of shit, really, because this is the only way I can see Vero without being spied on.
I’m turning twenty-one in a couple of weeks, which means my father is sniping at everything while I’m home. I graduated high school with honors, completed university in three years, and it’s still not enough, because I remain unmarried. It’s not even my fault.
I go to every dinner, smile at everyone I’m supposed to smile at, yet there are whispers circulating that my father is merely paying lip service to my suitors. People are saying he’s already chosen a husband for me, but I have no idea who that might be.
So… I’m hiding from him this summer as much as I can. My freedom is disappearing at a rapid rate, and the only one who can see it is me.
Vero willingly curls up beside me, her fingers threading through mine as she sighs happily. We don’t talk about the future beyond the next day or two, it’s an unspoken rule between us. I get too upset otherwise.
“Do you want to get ice cream after this?” she asks, licking her lips as if she wants to eat me instead.
My skin pebbles with goosebumps despite her innocent words and the warm air, and I nod slowly in agreement. Outside of kisses and furtive touches, we haven’t explored much since we’re never alone. Even at these performances, we are very aware of how public this is.
Our home has had more security cameras added to the property, and it hasn’t escaped my notice how many are now in our garden. The noose is tightening around my throat, and some days, I can barely breathe.
The breakdowns in the shower are happening more and more often, where I scream with how much I hate my father. Once it’s done, I pack up all of my emotions and put them away to become the perfect daughter again.
I want to give Vero the best of me, since soon all she’ll have are memories of our time together. I don’t want her to see the weak mess I am when no one else is watching.
“If we have time, that sounds really good,” I admit, allowing my feet to slip out of my sandals.
She pulls me into her arms unabashedly, and I snuggle against her as the play begins. The words flow over me like a balm, familiar and beautiful as I love a lot of Shakespeare’s plays. Perhaps that’s odd at my age, but I’ve been well acquainted with impossible decisions for much of my life.
My loyalties are split between not being killed by my father and my love for Vero. I’d say that impossible is something I understand well.
At the intermission, Vero and I get up to stretch our legs. My phone is in my micro bag slung across my chest so I won’t lose it, and I walk with Vero so we can get lost in the shadows.
I’m slightly tipsy from the alcohol we drank during the play, and I grin at her as her eyes darken with desire.
As I hoped, she presses me against a tree trunk that’s heavy with purple blossoms, and kisses me until we’re sharing air between us. My fingers ghost up her bare back until I can pull the pin from her hair, loving the way it tumbles around her shoulders.
Vero’s nostrils flare with appreciation as I slick, and she moans as she kisses down my throat. As I expected, she presented as an alpha at eighteen. Her scent also became undeniable, and where it was once one that was familiar, it’s now one I want to roll around in desperately.
She smells like honeysuckle and pepper, which fits her personality perfectly as she gets older.
Vero can be sweet or spicy, depending on the situation, which is also why I’m trying to keep her out of the house as much as possible.
She’s angry with my father as she learns more about my role in the family, and that he uses me with plans to make me both a broodmare and an executioner.
I suppose I already am a killer, and have been for a long while. The broodmare part is merely something that hasn’t come to pass.
I haven’t had my first heat yet which is probably for the best. I eat whatever is served at the house without a fuss, and have no idea what the vitamins are that my father places beside my plate each morning. They could be anything, I just haven’t cared enough to ask.
My body isn’t really mine, even though my soul screams inside of me.
“Hey,” Vero growls. “Don’t do that. Stay with me, Rosa.”
“I’m here,” I say weakly with a small smile. We only have a short amount of time before we have to be back at the house. Knowing my father, he may have another appearance for me to make, which means I’ll have to get dressed up.
The sundresses I love to wear won’t be good enough for the men he wants me to rub elbows with. A part of me wonders if he may be trying to see if any of these alphas he has me meeting are my scent match.
It’s too bad I’ve already met mine. I’m not interested in any alpha other than Vero, and I’ve never been attracted to the parade of men I’ve met.
“You’re not,” she says, sighing. “Every day, it feels as if you’re leaving me a bit more. I’m not dumb, Rosa. What is it you’re not telling me?”
“So much,” I sigh, flipping out positions so quickly, she gasps. “I’m not the typical omega, Vero.”
“And?” she asks, ignoring the fact that I pinned her to the tree.
“I fucking kill people, Vero,” I growl.
“I know that,” she shrugs. “I made peace with you killing my mother almost right after it happened, baby. Do you want a cookie?”
“Oh my god!” I stomp my sandaled foot, making her giggle.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she urges me.
“Why are you so sad? It never goes away, Rosa. It seems to cling to every part of you now. Fuck, I can even smell it on you. I know you almost better than I do myself. Sometimes…I hear you crying in the bathroom when I sneak into your room to talk to you.”
“You can’t smell sadness,” I whisper.
“The fuck I can't!”
I think I’m a bad influence. Vero never cursed until she met me. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t indulge at all until she turned eighteen, and then it began to permeate her vocabulary more and more.
“You smell like salt when you’re sad,” Vero sighs. “Lately, you smell like roses and salt. I can even taste it when I kiss you, so instead of fresh berries, I can taste the salt too. You can’t hide from me.”
“Things are… bad,” I say, pressing against her body. She’s taller than I am by five inches, but the muscle in my body rivals hers. The mornings spent sparring and shooting keeps my body toned.
I don’t know why my father keeps this up when I’m simply going to be someone’s broodmare very soon.
“You’re shaking.” The hiss makes me flinch, and I swallow hard as I shrug.
“Arranged marriages don’t always happen as a courtship affair organized by nosy mothers,” I breathe. “Sometimes, they’re arranged to create powerful alliances for those in the mafia.”
Vero freezes, the elephant in the room finally out in the open. As she said, she’s not stupid, but I don’t think I’ve ever really called a spade a spade. I typically call the mafia “the family.”
“Shit.” The expletive is whispered, and I nod. I couldn’t have said it any better myself. “This explains so much. I just thought your dad was really scary and some kind of criminal.”
“I mean, both of these things are true. Every day, I have to remind myself it wouldn’t be better if he killed me in a blind rage, but it’s getting harder to believe that.”
My alpha crashes her lips against mine urgently, as if she’s trying to erase my confession from the world. I let her, moaning as her tongue slides against mine until I’m writhing against her.
“No matter what happens, you have to promise me you’ll fight to stay,” she whispers, kissing me again. “Say it. For me.”
“What if you’re not there to remind me?” I ask, tears escaping my eyes. “I’ve looked at every possibility, even running away with you, and there’s not a single one where I get to keep you. Papa would still find me if I ran.”
“I’m not asking you to run, but instead to fight to stay alive. Never once have I asked you to run.”
“No, but I wish I could run every day.”
My phone buzzes in my bag by my hip, and I suck in oxygen as my head goes fuzzy. The only person who has this number is my father. Vero has friends, I don’t. She pays for her bills with the inheritance her mother left her, while my father pretends to ignore my spending.
The differences are obvious to me, which means I have to answer this call, no matter how much I don’t want to.
My hand presses against the bark of the tree beside Vero’s body to help ground myself, and I dig my fingers into it, welcoming the splinters to calm my tears.