In my haste to come here, I forgot that this is a private property—a guarded property with enough security to put the queen’s royal guards to shame.
The other two times I came here, during the initiation and last night’s party, it was open to all. Well, not all, but the guards didn’t stop me.
Before I can think of a believable lie to grant myself access, the giant gate opens with a haunting creak.
My hands sweat on the steering wheel, but I choose to take the opportunity and drive inside. I can think about everything else after I make sure Brandon is safe and outside that snake’s reach.
I tried calling and texting both Killian and Bran, but there was no reply. Oh, and the psycho left me on Read.
Once I get to the mansion, I find the front door open as well. This time, I search my surroundings for possible guards.
The gothic air of the house, mixed with emptiness and silence, fills me with a creepy vibe that I can’t put my finger on.
A swish of air throws my hair in my eyes and I swear a shadow creeps up behind me.
Or maybe I’m just paranoid.
I quicken my steps inside, choosing to focus on my mission instead.
I’m not one step up the stairs when I hear a scream from a room downstairs.
My hand shakes and I rub it on my shorts as I slowly head in the direction of the sound.
Please don’t tell me I’m too late.
Again.
A sob catches in my throat and it remains there, stealing my ability to breathe properly.
I push the huge double doors open, half-shaking, half-nauseated.
Not again, please—
My thoughts come to a halt when the scene unfolds. I don’t know why I expected to find some torture chamber, but what’s in front of me is far from it.
In fact, it’s…a game room.
Gold-and-red wallpaper covers the space and a red carpet spills on the ground with the density of blood. Huge screens occupy most of the walls, all complete with red LED lights. An elegant billiard table sits in the middle, and some board games are set up in the corners.
The reason behind the noise is from the screens.
“Give it up already,” Killian says from his position on luxurious dark red leather chair while clutching a gaming controller.
He’s speaking to a girl who’s sitting cross-legged on her own huge chair and tapping manically on her controller. Her lips are pursed and her fair skin is red.
“Don’t listen to him. You can win,” Bran says, sitting on the armrest of her chair.
My breath comes out in a slow whoosh.
He’s fine. I’m not late. He looks okay and he’s…smiling.
My quiet brother, who’s more asocial than me, seems to be having fun.
Now that the immediate danger is out of the way, I focus on the scene in front of me.
Are they seriously playing games when I’ve been worried sick?
Also, who’s the girl? From my side-glance, she seems familiar, but I’m not sure where I’ve seen her.
Why is my brother bonding with her and Killian? Might as well stab me in the back, Bran.
Not that I’m jealous.
I refuse to believe I’m jealous.
“Don’t go giving her false hope.” Killian presses his buttons with the same speed as the girl, but he’s completely nonchalant about it, appearing bored while still efficient. “And believe me, baby Sokolov, he’s only rooting for you because he’d rather play the final against you and win.”
I take a step inside and I swear he catches me in his peripheral vision. His speed slows down a little and then the girl jumps up, hitting her controller over and over.
Then she laughs and hugs Bran.
“I knew you could do it,” Bran says as they break apart.
She jerks her chin in Killian’s direction and signs.
Oh. She can’t speak.
Now I feel like a horrible person for having a tiny grudge against her earlier.
“She says you’re the best cheerleader ever.”
My brother grins. “Not sure if I should be honored or feel disturbed.”
Killian lifts a shoulder. “Probably both.”
Suddenly, his eyes meet mine. They’re harsh and dark and have nothing of the earlier nonchalance he sported when he was playing.
For some reason, I think he lost on purpose just now. Bran and the girl probably didn’t notice, but I saw how Killian intentionally slowed down to let her have the upper hand.
He’s still lounging on the chair, but his spine has straightened and there’s that brimming tension in his blank expression, a storm that’s been slowly but steadily building—definitely not good news.
But you know what? Fuck him.
I’m the one who’s supposed to be angry for all the shit he’s done since this morning.
“Bran.” I slide to my brother’s side and touch his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, hey, little princess. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” He motions at the girl, who’s watching me closely. “Meet Mia, Killian’s cousin and my new gaming master.”
She nods enthusiastically, her features making her look so young, way younger than me. Countless ribbons decorate her hair, dress, wrists, and even her giant boots. She gets A+ for the fashion sense.
Now, I feel completely stupid for thinking she’s a romantic interest. I knew I’d seen her somewhere—she was in some pictures with Nikolai.
After watching me for a beat, Mia signs to Killian.
“What did she say?” I ask him without fully looking at him, because I’m just not ready to face the devil right now.
“She’s asking me whether or not you’re mean like your tool of a brother, Landon.”
“She…she met him?” My voice shakes and Bran holds my arm.
Killian narrows his eyes. “Earlier, when he showed up at my school, vandalized my car, and threatened me to break up with you or else he’ll do worse.”
Yup, sounds like my brother.
Mia signs to Killian again and he translates, “She says Landon is the biggest tool she’s met in years and that says something since she’s used to seeing all shapes of tools. Oh, and it’s a shame that he shares looks with such a sweetheart like Bran. If it weren’t for that, she would cut his face while he sleeps.”
Bran laughs loudly, genuinely, and I smile, too. This girl isn’t afraid of Lan. I like that.
“Meet Glyn, Mia,” Bran says, holding my shoulder. “She’s definitely more like me than Lan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Killian translates, the rumble of his voice next to my ear, then lowers until only I can hear him. “You should treat my cousin—as in, me—well.”
I glare at him. “Are you sure she said that last part?”
“She would if she could.”
“Let’s go back, Bran.” I grab his arm and try to get out of the situation before it becomes muddier.
“Mia and I have the finals now. Just wait a bit.”
“But—”
Mia shakes her head at me with pure determination, grabs her controller, and tosses the other to Bran.
He catches it and looks at me. “We can go if you’re not feeling well.”
I do want to leave, but if I say that, then I’ll just ruin the whole mood.
“Are you okay?” Bran watches me closely.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? Because you have a lot of explaining to do, little princess.”