Alex barked out a laugh. "You're allowed to have opinions, babycakes."
I groaned.
"It's staying," he announced, "because it makes her turn red. Look."
He was pointing at my cheeks. I was sure they matched my dress. I'd just yelled at an immortal, threatened bodily harm, and he was laughing.
Mason removed Alex's hand from mine and took my arm. "Let's go, beautiful."
The attention, the compliments, the nicknames — they were too much. It was the opposite of what I'd expected, meaning, it was like being made fun of. Like I was naked for the class picture. It was embarrassing, being told I was beautiful when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I paled in comparison to the ugliest of immortals.
"Did I say something wrong?" Mason asked once we were in his truck driving toward downtown. "You seem… upset."
My fingers slowly caressed the rich leather seats. I don't know what I expected him to drive, but a brand new GMC truck didn't really fit the image I'd had of werewolves.
"Um, no…" I lied. "It's nothing."
"You seem sad."
"Just… in shock, still."
"It will fade," Mason said in a calm voice. "It always does. My own mate, well, she…" His voice cracked. "She had a hard time at first."
"Was her number called?"
His eyes were black; it was hard to see where his pupils started and ended as he gazed at me then back at the road. "Yes."
"And you loved her?"
"Of course." He said it so quickly I didn't doubt him for one second. "With my entire life, my soul, my existence, I loved her."
"Loved."
"She simply…" His voice was hoarse. "She simply didn't wake up one morning. The evening before we'd been talking about children. The next morning she was cold."
"Mason…" I reached across the seat and grabbed his hand. "I'm so sorry."
He clenched my hand in his and brought it to his lips; his rough kiss across my knuckles warmed me from the inside out.
"It's not your fault."
"But…" My mind whirled. "I could change that? I could make it so that doesn't happen anymore?"
He was quiet for a while. "Possibly, but there's no way to know."
"So I live past a certain year, and what? We're home free?"
The truck pulled up to one of the hotels in downtown Seattle. It was newer, a boutique hotel right on the water. "Ethan wouldn't like me discussing such things with you. I'll allow him to explain."
"But—"
"That's all I'll say," he growled. "Now, let's go show you off to your mate."
The mate who hadn't even driven me to the Gathering?
The mate who hadn't spoken to me all day?
The same mate who'd looked like he wanted to shake me to death earlier that morning?
Great.
I choked back the fear at being in a room with possibly hundreds of immortals —in a room with Cassius himself — and followed Mason out of the truck.
He grabbed my hand again. I ducked against him, allowing his body to shield me.
He handed his keys to the valet, who eyed me up and down like I was a piece of candy.
Mason growled at the valet, who jolted out of his stare-down and ran toward the truck. "Idiots, all of the demons."
"Wh-what?"
"Demons." He shrugged. "Even hell won't take 'em, so they toil here for us until it's time for judgment."
"And then?"
"Hell welcomes them back with open arms."
I shivered.
"Are you cold?"
No, just completely freaked out. My studies had said nothing about demons. Nothing.
What other immortals hadn't I been told about?
I was almost afraid to ask.
Mason walked me through the doors of the hotel. Music sounded from somewhere in the lobby, or maybe it was the restaurant. The music grew louder as we walked toward it in silence.
When we stopped, it was in front of a black door.
Mason nodded to a tall man wearing head-to-toe black. He had an earpiece in his ear and examined the iPad in his hands. He turned the iPad toward Mason, who placed his hand on the screen.
It flashed green.
And the door opened.
I think, in my head I'd built the Gathering up to be something like I'd seen in horror movies — an orgy, blood-drinking, people in little to no clothing.
Instead… it was like I'd just walked onto a Hollywood movie set. Heads turned, both male and female, and they were flawless. My fingers dug into Mason's arm.
It wasn't fear.
More like awe. It had been hard enough to keep my jaw tight when I'd entered the throne room. This was a bazillion times worse.
Every woman in that room was perfectly proportioned — tall, exotic, beautiful. There was no imperfection — at all.
The men, if I could call them that, since most of them were most likely immortal, were all pretty large in size and seemed more curious than anything. I noticed a few smiles in my direction.
A few sneers — from the women.
And in the far, far corner of the room, there were a group of people who looked like me, who looked normal, not like they belonged on the cover of a magazine.