Page 105 of Heroes & Hitmen
I jerk a nod, even though the answer is probably no.
Will suddenly approaches with four flutes of champagne clutched between his hands, seemingly oblivious to the tense scene he’s walking into. “You guys look thirsty,” he says with a lopsided grin, distributing glasses to the three of us like party favors.
“Thanks,” Jordan chirps as she plucks one from his grasp, flashing him a bright smile. “We were just over here plotting murder.”
I choke on the sip of champagne I was taking as Will snickers a laugh.
“Anyone in particular?” he asks, making a show of sweeping his gaze around the room.
“Ares, if he leaves my side again,” I say, falling back into the role I’m here to play and batting my lashes at my fake mate.
He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me in close. I know it’s mostly for show– staking his claim in front of the pack, keeping up appearances– but the way his hand settles at my hip is weirdly grounding. I find myself instantly relaxing a little, and some of the tension seems to drain from his body, too.
Will extends a hand in Jordan’s direction. “I’m Will,” he says smoothly. “Ares’ friend.”
“Jordan,” she replies as she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. “Miley’s older, more fun sister.”
“Hey,” I object, snapping my head in her direction, then shrugging. “Well, that’s probably true,” I admit with a laugh.
Will beams, clearly delighted by Jordan. “I like you already,” he says, tipping his glass to her.
I sip my champagne while I watch the unease in our little group start to dissipate as everyone falls into easy conversation. There’s still an edge, but it’s manageable. We can totally fake normal for a couple more hours.
Ares’ thumb traces idle circles on my hip, and every time my mind wanders to what comes next– leaving him, losing this– I get a little sick. I glance up at him, memorizing the lines of his profile before following his gaze to a big guy across the room. The two of them make eye contact, exchanging the barest nod.
“Friend of yours?” I ask, elbowing Ares gently.
He just shrugs. “Something like that.”
I narrow my eyes on him, tempted to question it further– but then I remember how he described the guy he got the fake IDs from and the pieces slot together in my brain. I’d put money onthatbeinghim, and I’m not about to draw unwanted attention toward the person who gave us the final component of our escape plan.
So, I just nod and nurse my glass of champagne, pretending like the night isn’t closing in on us. I watch the mirrored walls, the shifting patterns of people as they swirl past. I wonder how many of them are truly happy and how many are just faking it as hard as I am.
Ares tilts his head down, the tip of his nose brushing against my hair. “If you want to bail, just say the word,” he murmurs.
I’d love nothing more, but as if on cue, the music suddenly dies out and the ballroom goes quiet. Alpha’s voice thunders through the sound system, the effect of it like icy claws raking down my spine.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening,” he booms, flashing a practiced, charismatic grin. “What a wonderful night to celebrate a new era for our pack, one where fate’s blessings shine down upon all of us!”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at his pompous display of insincerity. He launches into a speech about tradition and the bright future ahead for everyone, the sea of sequins and suits nodding along eagerly, drinking in every lie like oxygen. He makes platitudes about loyalty, honor, and our pack’s unbreakable legacy and the audience eats it up. Meanwhile, I’m just trying not to vomit as hatred burns like bile in my throat.
A spotlight suddenly snaps on, flashing right in my eyes as it lands on me and Ares. I flinch instinctively while Ares squares his shoulders, posture stiffening. His hand finds mine, fingers tangling with just enough pressure to keep me upright as the light threatens to blind us, the entire room pivoting to gawk in our direction.
“Come join me, won’t you?” Alpha urges, as if we have the option of declining.
Ares squeezes my hand reassuringly, then slides an arm around my waist, steering us through the masses and up to the front. The spotlight’s still assaulting my retinas– all I can see are blurred faces as we pass them, rows upon rows of people hungry for a show.
Alpha beckons us closer as we approach, his smile warm but his stare cold as ice. “Please, let’s have a round of applause for my daughter Miles and her fated mate, Ares Raines!”
The crowd obliges, applause crashing over us like surf.Are they actually buying this crock of shit?
Once we’re in place at his side, Alpha pivots to the mic again. “As you know, we’ll be having a ceremony tomorrow night for these two to seal their bond before the pack. In the spirit of looking toward the future, I’d hoped they’d agree to do it the Chicago way, but since Ares isn’t from here, he’s a little hesitant about some of our customs.”
I tense, already knowing what’s coming next and powerless to stop it.
“I’ve tried to assure him that our method of sealing mate bondsis easy and seamless, but now I’m thinking he might just need the pack to lend a little support in helping him come to a decision,” my father continues. “So, I’ll ask you, who here is in favor of progress over antiquated traditions?”
The crowd in front of us roars their support, Ares’ hand holding so tight to mine it almost hurts. I don’t let go, mind spinning as I grapple for some way out of this.
