By the time Phillip Cargill steps onto the stage, I’m half asleep.
“Good evening friends.” His voice echoes through the room. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, we can move onto more important things. Those of you here tonight understand the history of our great town, the importance of our heritage. Tonight, we will uphold one of our most sacred traditions: the Eligere.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I now ask the prosapia and their fathers to join me in the Sanctuary for the ceremony.”
My stomach flutters as my mother squeezes my hand. “Good luck, sweetheart. Remember, if you are not chosen, it doesn’t reflect on you.”
I barely refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Mia,” my father says gruffly as he stands. I gather myself and accept his offer of help. The two flutes of champagne I drank with dinner rush to my head as the room grows small around me.
Everyone is watching, waiting with bated breath to know who Cade will emerge from the sanctuary bound to.
Of course, to anyone outside of tonight’s ceremony, the engagement announcement that will follow the Eligere will be nothing out of the ordinary. Kids grow up, they attend college, date, and fall in love.
Only those with verus blood know the truth.
Everything is hazy as my father leads me out of the ballroom and down a simple stone hall. Maisie Godiva and her father are ahead of me. Her dress is slightly less demure than mine, cut low in the back and hemmed with pearls. It doesn’t surprise me. Her mother is a bit of a show-off. Brook leads our quiet caravan. When she finally arrived, everyone had stopped to admire her dress. The prosapia are supposed to present themselves in a simple white gown, something pure and innocent to honor the union oath. But in true Brook fashion, her gown was something akin to a wedding dress, layered with lace and fine gold embroidery.
She is most definitely the sun, outshining the rest of us.
Eventually, we reach the Sanctuary, a place few people in Gravestone ever have the opportunity to visit.
“Ready?” my father asks me as we step inside.
“I guess,” I murmur, wondering if anyone can ever be truly ready for something like this.
Candles flicker wildly in the cavernous room, bouncing shadows around the smooth limestone walls. It’s simple in its decoration, nothing at all like the grand ballroom. But it only adds to the mystery and intrigue.
“Welcome to the Eligere.” Phillip has slipped on a black robe that hangs to the floor. “Gentlemen, please present your daughters before the Electi.”
I spot them then: Cade and his three sidekicks all standing poised and ready. Ashton isn’t present because he isn’t a true Electi. Of the four heirs, Tim is the only one already engaged. He and his fiancée, Fawn, were paired when he was just a freshman. But Channing and Brandon will both have to be paired eventually.
My father walks me to the line and kisses me on the cheek. “Whatever happens here tonight, I want you to know I love you, Mia.”
My brows pinch, and I want to ask what he means, but he melts into the shadows.
“This is crazy,” the girl beside me breathes. I’ve seen her around town, but she’s older than me.
Phillip begins speaking again, regaling us with the history of the Eligere, the importance of unifying families and continuing to strengthen Gravestone’s influence. But his voice becomes white noise to the blood roaring in my ears.
It’s silly, we all know whose name is going to be pulled from the calix.
Cade and Brook are written in the stars.
“Maddoc.” Phillip calls forward another robed man. I vaguely recognize him but can’t place where from. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest, and the air in the Sanctuary is thick with anticipation. I can practically feel the other prosapia hold their breath as Phillip dips his hand inside the calix.
“Are you ready to meet your prosapia, Cade?”
Cade steps forward, nodding. “I am.”
He’s as cool as a cucumber, smug even, as if he’s enjoying having eight girls lined up for his entertainment.
Asshole.
My teeth grind together behind pursed lips as I try to focus on something, anything, that will help distract me from the fact that this is fucking crazy.
Phillip pulls out the small slip of paper and unfolds it, keeping his eyes on the prosapia. “Tonight, one of you will be chosen. It is a great honor, a great privilege, to be bound to an Electi.” His eyes flick to the note, a deep frown marring his forehead. The blood drains from his face as he looks back to us. “I-I don’t understand—”
“Spit it out, old man,” Cade jokes, “we have a party to get to.”
Oh goodie, the after-party. I can hardly wait for that.
“Ah yes, of course.” Phillip clears his throat. “Cade Kingsley, on behalf of Quinctus, please step forward and accept Miss Mia Thompson as your prosapia.”
I blink, certain I must have misheard him.
“Thompson?” Cade balks at the same time as Brook shrieks, “What the fuck?”
“Mia.” The girl next to me jabs my ribs. “It’s you,” she whispers. “You need to go up there.”
“W-what?” I croak, unable to process what’s happening.
But then Phillip steps forward, commanding silence. “The calix has spoken,” he says more firmly this time, as if there’s no confusion, no mistake. “Mia Thompson is Cade’s prosapia.”
Oh, fuck.
1
Bexley
"Come on, it's a party," Alex whines. "Our first college party."
"I'm not interested," I mutter, resting back on my bed and staring at the ceiling in the hope he gets the idea and fucks off to the party without me.
"But it's a Cade Kingsley party."
"And that's meant to persuade me? He's a prick," I say with complete honesty.
Alex and I started classes at Gravestone University on Monday, and I can't help feeling like I've pissed Kingsley off, because every time I'm anywhere near him or his little crew they throw me some serious shade.
I've never
