Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
He was a fearless child when I last saw him.
Now he's a man with eyes that blaze behind his mask with the same look I saw a thousand times before.
My breathing is short and sharp, my mind spinning and overwhelmed because I should feel disgusted and I should feel regret, but I don't feel any of those things.
Kylian, Nate, and Lyle are here. They're real and whole, strong men with bodies made for sin. Their father might have tried to intimidate them and beat them until they were crushed, but he failed.
That fire inside them that spilled out over my skin, bruising, and burning with intensity, has healed a part of me that has always been raw. It's a part that I'd tried to bury because facing up to the reality of the situation that they were left in feels too difficult to bear.
Kylian takes a step closer, his eyes sweeping over my disheveled hair and ravaged body, finally spearing into my wide gaze as I stare at him in disbelief. "Who are you?" he hisses. "What kind of game are you playing?"
The suspicion that rages in his expression is what pulls me out of my stunned silence.
"Honor," I say softly, my throat closing as my name spills from my mouth. "I'm Honor, Kylian."
As soon as my words register, Kylian staggers back. It's a fleeting moment where he seems totally undone. His chest rises and falls with two deep breaths, and his hands flex at his sides. Then, as though he's pushed down all his feelings into a box and slammed the lid shut, his posture straightens, and his face forms an impassive mask.
"Honor," he spits, as though my name tastes foul in his mouth. As though he believes that I have no honor at all. He takes a step forward, and I slide back against the bed, using my hands to put some distance between us, but for every inch that I shift, he moves forward until his hands are braced on either side of me on the bed.
He's so different. Time has sharpened his jaw and strengthened his brow. His shoulders are broad, and his arms corded with muscle. All the boyishness has left him, and in its place is an imposing masculinity and coiled savagery, a rumbling fury and resentment held behind a careful veneer.
"I should have seen it." One hand rises to touch the ends of my hair as he studies it. "I should have noticed your hair." His fingers drift behind my head, and he begins to undo the ribbon that fastens my lace mask.
My heart is thudding against my chest, but I try to keep my breathing under control. If there's one thing I learned living with Kylian's father; fear is like pouring kerosene on fire for men who need to dominate. Did I imagine that Kylian would be so much like his father? Definitely not. He was never cruel. He was never brutal. Serious maybe, and angry because of his situation. That was understandable. But using his dad's cruel words? That's something new.
As the mask slips, Kylian searches my exposed face. Recognition is just a flicker in his eyes.
I know I look like my mother. Maybe for him, it's like staring at a person who disappeared from his past. "Honor," he says quietly, and for just a second, he's like the Kylian I knew before. The boy who used to read me bedtime stories when I couldn't sleep. The boy who stood in front of me more than once to divert his father's attention. Then all of that is gone.
I want to cover my body so it's shielded from his intense gaze, but I'm lying on top of the sheets, so there's nothing to hand. He's seen everything that there is to see, but that doesn't make being naked in front of him any easier. The mask is gone. He knows me. Not just what it's like to push deep inside my body but what it's like to laugh and cry with me. We shared so much in the year we spent together, and it's all there hanging between us like tiny filaments, connections that could so easily be brushed away.
"I didn't know," I say before he has a chance to ask.
"Didn't know what?" he asks.
"Didn't know who you were until it was over."
Kylian doesn't respond, but his silence is filled with distrust. Is he wondering if I planned all this? I can't imagine what he thinks I'd gain from it or how I'd even achieve such a thing. The whole auction was anonymous. The only hint these men gave was their username, but even that wasn't overt. I didn't choose them to be the winners of the auction. They were the highest bidders.
I know for sure they had no idea they were bidding for me. This wasn't a purposeful act to seduce their almost-stepsister.