“Rose,” I murmur. “I know. Something isn’t right, but I need to get ready for this party, and I don’t want King coming in and catching us talking about this. When I get home, I’ll come find you. Okay?”
She stands, her slender body towering over me. “Okay, Dove, but be careful. I’ve heard King’s family is royalty.”
“Wait.” My hand catches her arm. “What do you mean?”
“The Brothers of Kiznitch family is the royal family, but the Axtons are like, next level. His father is like Don Vito, the motherfucking Godfather. They have their…” She pauses. “You don’t know anything, do you?” I shake my head. “I’ll tell you what I know later, but it isn’t much.”
“Wait!’ I repeat myself, just as she’s about to leave. “You have to come to this party.”
“She can’t,” Maya interrupts, standing behind Rose. “It’s against the law.”
“Law?” I ask, standing. “I’m confused.”
“Likely, and make no mistake, that’s how they would want you.” Maya stares at me until it makes me shuffle uncomfortably. “I would come with you.” She sighs. “But Kaius scares the shit out of me, and Dahlia, King’s mom? I swear she’s the worst.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, running my fingers through my hair. “You’re really helping.”
Maya rolls her eyes. “You should be lucky. There’s obviously a reason why you’re still alive.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good thing anymore.”
Maya pauses. “You have real feelings for him?”
I freeze, my eyes flying to her. “What?”
“Oh, holy shit, you do.” She enters my space, her hands coming to either side of my cheeks. “You can’t, Dove. You have to protect yourself. Whatever he’s saying, you can’t trust.” I want to tell her that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But she’s right. I may have grown something for him over the weeks that we’ve been around each other, but it’s hard not to when I know what he feels like between my thighs. And I know what he tastes like.
“Maya,” King interrupts from behind her and she pauses, but doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t scare her, which is interesting considering he scares everyone else I’ve met. “Get out.”
Maya’s eyes turn lazy. “Come see me after the party.” Then she turns around and glares at King. “Because she will return.”
“Maybe,” King answers flatly. “Or maybe not.”
As soon as Rose and Maya leave, I look to King. “What do I wear?”
I remember my mom loving candles. Not just the normal light-a-candle-after-a-big- cleanup type—I mean, really loving them. I think she had more candles around our house than she did electrical lighting. I remember the smell of burning leather surging with sweet lavender. The smell was somewhat comforting, to a point.
I hadn’t seen this many candles since my childhood, but stepping through the front doors of King’s parents’ house felt just like that. To the left, a young man was shirtless, playing a soft melody on the piano. He had smudged black eyeliner under his eyes and a straight square jaw. His hooded eyes came up to mine, his cheeks sunken in. When they connected with mine, a slow smirk crept on the corner of his mouth. I shivered, running my hands up and down my arms.
“King!” Killian snaps at King’s retreating back as he enters farther into the house.
King turns around and pins Killian with a feral snarl. “Shut the fuck up and remember where the fuck you land on the scale, brother.” His eyes drop to mine, before going back to Killian. “And watch her.”
“Didn’t think you gave a fuck,” Keaton addresses from beside me.
King’s eyes whip to his. “I don’t answer to you.” He turns back around and disappears around a corner. He has been agitated all the way here, more than usual. I don’t know much about New Orleans or the state of Louisiana in general, but the area where his parents live is very country. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from the city, where Delila lives. I think I heard Killian say the town’s name is Destrehan. Their home is a giant modern mansion in the middle of an aged field. I feel as though the house itself stands out from the rest of the old plantation-style homes. Everything is glass and licked in rich deep reds. The setting in the house is smooth and mellow, much like an intimate restaurant.
Keaton’s hand comes to my arm. “Stick by me, Dove.”
I rest into his embrace, but not long enough because Killian is pulling me out. I suddenly feel like a used toy that people don’t get to play with enough, bringing my thoughts back to the drawing of the dove that’s burning inside my bra. “Actually, she needs to be with someone who can make an unbiased decision.”
“That would be me,” Kyrin’s arm wraps around my torso, tugging me into his chest from behind.
“Ah, no,” Killian says. “We said an unbiased. Not someone who will kill her.”