“Will you be auctioning her off?” a male asks, looking me up and down like I’m a horse for sale. He has bronze skin, hair, eyes, and wings, and he looks like he’s wearing armor made of pure gold. Every finger has a gleaming ring on it, there are jeweled bracelets on both of his wrists nearly to his elbows, and he also has a heavy diamond pendant on his neck, and both ears covered in pierced gemstones. He is decked out more than an elderly lady out for a night at the theater.
I get so blinded by all the wealth he’s wearing that I nearly miss his question. But as soon as it filters in my brain, my eyes fly to Tazreel in a look that says, don’t you fucking dare.
But before Taz can say something one way or another, a male with pure black wings and hair steps forward. He’s wearing a black button up and slacks, and he’s drop-dead sinfully gorgeous. “Yes, Taz. What are your plans for her?”
He looks me over as the question looms in the air, and I’m about two seconds away from drooling. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’ve never witnessed anyone more beautiful in my life.
He’s just standing there next to Taz, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but the pent up power that’s pouring off of him is mind-blowing. He feels dangerously enticing and sinisterly forbidden all in the same breath, and my mind can’t quite decide if it wants to fuck him or run and hide and hope he never finds me.
I find myself leaning toward him without realizing it, like a flower trying to reach for the sun. I jerk back as soon as I notice what I’m doing. Elle smirks over at me knowingly, and I feel like the flush on her cheeks is now reddening mine as well.
“That’s a good question,” Tazreel muses. “I haven’t given it too much thought yet. She’s a bit too seasoned for proper training. Very rough around the edges. Perhaps some time with your cavalry could be beneficial, Luce, but we’ll see.”
Luce—the black-winged gorgeous one—continues to stare at me, and I can’t look away. His eyes are such a light blue that they’re almost white, and he nods his head, like he agrees with Tazreel’s assessment of me. He’s so stunning that I’m legitimately stunned in place. I even have a hard time blinking because it’s like my eyes don’t want to miss even a fraction of a second of seeing him.
A slow smile spreads over his face as I continue to stare, and it literally takes the breath right out of my lungs. I gape, reeling, alarm bells going off in my head that scream not normal!
It takes a lot of effort, but I force my eyes away back to Tazreel, denying myself to look at Luce again and be caught in his overwhelming hypnotic pull. I clear my head of the confusing, salacious thoughts I have about him and try to focus on what they’re saying.
“Cavalry?” I say with a frown as my mind catches up. “Oh, no thanks. I don’t like horses.”
All of them start laughing, like what I said was some sort of joke, even though I’m perfectly serious.
“Let’s eat and get to know the newest member of the ranks, shall we?” Luce declares cheerfully, and just like that, a massive table filled with all kinds of things appears out of thin air right next to us.
Well, shit.
Like they all know exactly where to sit, all eight of them move into position. But to my surprise, Tazreel doesn’t take the head of the table. Luce does. Interesting.
I stand there awkwardly as eight of the nine chairs fill up, until there’s only one seat still empty, right across from Tazreel, to the left of Luce.
Not wanting to stand there like an idiot, I move to the empty chair and take a seat, lifting away the fabric of my dress so I can sit without ripping it. I’m not used to the wings behind me, so I slump forward, despite the fact that there are notches in the back of the wooden chair that let them hang unhindered.
Driftwood cocks her head at me where she sits to my left. “You hold your wings like a youngling,” she says with an air of criticism. “Or like Ace,” she says, pointing across the table to where a male with ashy hair and wings sits. Actually, more like slumping. He has his arm propped up on the table and his chin in hand, his entire body slumped over like he wants to fall asleep. Ace doesn’t even reply to Driftwood’s observation. He just looks at her boredly.
Cringing that I might look as apathetic as that dude, I try to sit up straighter in my seat. “I’m just not used to them,” I tell her. “I’ve never had my wings until today,” I answer honestly, trying and failing at keeping the irritation out of my tone.
Her fork clatters down onto her plate, nicking the glass. Everyone’s eyes rise up to me. Even the imps who’ve come over to serve drinks pause.
“What do you mean you’ve never had your wings until today?” she asks, shock clear on her gorgeous face.
I fidget in my seat at all the attention and immediately regret saying that.
“What is going on, Taz?” This is asked from the third female and last Abdicated. She has ginger-orange wings and hair that’s cut close to her scalp, brown skin, and her face is dotted with black freckles. Her eyes are dark and hardened, her mouth drawn into a serious line that doesn’t
