Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

My eyes popped as he dragged me back to him, pressing his lips to mine for a slow, delirious kiss.

“You would be a good wife,” he said softly, pulling back. “We would be good together. West will never be it for you. We’re soulmates, Snitch. Face it.”

He kissed me again. Brutally. Roughly. Until my thoughts swam with the flavor of him. Until I was strung out anytime he pulled away for a breath.

Then he finally broke away, leaving me on the snowy bench. Leaving me to watch him walk back alone to his snow-dusted castle of Crowne Hall.

Soulmates.

Forty-Seven

STORY

* * *

The night of the Nutcracker Masquerade was one of the worst blizzards to ever hit the East Coast. Snow and sleet slammed against the windows as though they were mad at something.

I should have listened to fate’s warning.

Grayson and I were going off course.

I kept wondering…what had come over me? My uncle had told me to live with dignity. Before, I’d abandoned dignity for shame; now, I’d sacrificed it to be shameless.

Not even Tansy would listen to the warning. As the chandeliers flickered and the wind howled through the halls, she made it clear: anyone who did not make it to the party would not be invited next year. Canceled flights and snowed-in streets were not acceptable excuses.

Two unopened dress boxes lay on my bed, wrapped in ribbons of different colors: deep emerald or peach.

Grayson or West.

Two men promising to build me a happily ever after…and I trusted neither of them. The morning paper lay next to the boxes, a photograph of West, Grayson, Lottie, and me captured a few nights before.

While he was holding Lottie close, and West was holding me close, our heads were turned to each other. The chandelier glimmered behind our portrait.

We’re soulmates, Snitch. Face it.

All this time I’ve been hating Grayson, he’d been building us a happily ever after.

But my trust for him is now wrapped in thorns.

I don’t know how to just…unravel that.

I opened West’s first, lifting the silky peach lid. It was beautiful, a stark white. Looking in the mirror, I held the pink-and-white material against my skin, trying to picture the woman who would wear the low-cut neckline, the short tutu, the matching mask.

It was beautiful.

And once again…not me.

I set it down and went for Grayson’s.

Simple yet elegant. The lacy skirt fell below the knee and sparkled even in my low light. A green ribbon tied at the waist and fell to my shins. This was me.

The mask was even more beautiful.

Nutcracker Masquerade masks weren’t simple lace and ribbon. They were usually made with sparkling diamonds and gold—real diamond of course—and mine was no exception.

I dropped it to the bed.

It would definitely garner Tansy Crowne’s ire. I would be the only one not in a mask, but tonight I couldn’t hide. No matter the consequences.