People must have been working on this all day. The room is perfect and has been decorated exactly to my liking. Black drapes, black carpet runners, black decorations, and even a black chandelier. I can’t believe it. When a woman approached me and asked about decorations, I figured she’d shrug me off when I said that I wanted everything black. I mean, where did they even find a black chandelier? It’s like a twisted Halloween ball in here just without the fake spider webs, pumpkins, and skeletons. Though, if I was to start opening closets, I’m sure I’ll find plenty of skeletons hiding in them.
I focus on the stairs in front of me, one stiletto heel in front of another. After all, all eyes are on me, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want nothing more than to turn around and race back out of here before I make a complete ass of myself, but I know that’s not an option.
I’ve never felt so lost. When I walked out of the Council Chamber, I was expecting to find the four boys waiting for me. Instead, I was formally met by the heads of the families, each of them giving me some sob story about my parents, putting their hand on my shoulder, and calling me Elodie. Not one of the boys were to be seen until I found Cruz lurking in my mother’s closet less than twenty minutes ago, holding the gown and demanding my stupid ass put it on. I had to find my own way out of the underground world, and when I say it wasn’t fun, I mean it.
I haven’t seen the other guys, but I can’t help but feel a strain between us, which is ridiculous, seeing as though I haven’t actually seen them yet. Maybe it’s because I’m officially their leader, or perhaps because I had to save their asses in that meeting. Maybe they’re embarrassed about the whole thing, but something tells me that they’re not the type to care about shit like that. Maybe they’re just pissed that my declaration to find the culprit who ordered my parents’ deaths will surely cause a little trouble. But I’m sure they can handle it. If they can fend off twelve hitmen at a time, they can handle a bunch of pissed off old guys.
A hand is presented as I reach the final step of the grand staircase and I meet Cruz’s heated stare, the desire in his eyes instantly speaking to that wild, animalistic part of myself that tends to come out whenever he’s around. “You look fucking delic—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” I murmur, keeping my voice low as my eyes skim across the room to find King and Grayson huddled by the bar, their mouths dropped as they stare at me like they’re seeing a stranger.
Carver stands by his father’s side, his face a hard mask, his thoughts impossible to read. “I feel like a goth barbie in this ridiculous dress. The only good thing about it is that it’s got hidden pockets and I don't need to hide shit in my bra. Why couldn’t I just wear what I usually wear?”
“Because it’s a formal initiation and wearing anything less than a gown would be seen as you shitting all over our traditions.”
“Your traditions suck. What if I am shitting all over them?”
“Then I’d kindly request that you do it with a proud smile so that these fuckers don’t pick up on it,” he grumbles, leading me through the crowd that instantly parts to make way, making me feel so much more important than I really am.
I look up at Cruz’s beautiful green eyes and give him a wide, proud smile that nearly knocks him off his feet. “How’s that for bullshit?” I grumble through my smile.
“Fucking perfect,” he laughs to himself. “You’re a natural-born deceiver.”
My smile falls from my face, and for a brief second, I wonder if he knows what I’m up to. The thought fades away as we reach the small staircase that leads up onto a stage at the far side of the room, presumably where the initiation is going to happen.
“Do you remember what to do?” Cruz asks, leading me up the stairs as everyone begins to gather around.
“It’s not rocket science,” I tell him. “Pretty sure that I can handle it.”
“Very well. Just don’t fuck it up. They don’t take lightly to that shit, especially from you.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
His lips press into a hard line and I want nothing more than to kiss them deeply when a man steps into my side and offers me his elbow. I glance up to find King’s father, Tobias King. “Miss Ravenwood, please allow me to escort you to the dais for your initiation and vow of allegiance.”