A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)

“You’re obsessed with my harem, aren’t you?”

I mean, I hadn’t thought about it all the time . . . but, I guessed there was something gravitating and suggestive about the idea. How did he choose? Did he prefer one over the other? Did he bring one back to his room, or two . . .? My cheeks warmed. “Maybe—wait, no.”

Maxim laughed softly, while I felt Weston’s gaze burn my cheek.

I crossed my arms, Weston’s hand still attached to one and leveled a gaze on Maxim. “I do not like your harem. I feel sorry for your bride; you’ll have to dig through all the other women to find her.”

I was sure the smile he gave me was the exact one he used to entrap women with that ‘protector’ bit. “I’ll just have to go one at a time, then, won’t I?”

“Ugh, poor gir—”

“Stop.” Weston’s word cut through the air. He looked at me questionably, differently, darkly, like he believed I’d actually been a volunteer in Maxim’s bed.

The thing was, I imagined I could bed Maxim if I had to. I was sure he knew what he was doing with all that experience; but therein lay the problem that I didn’t think about Maxim in that sense.

He was beyond attractive, but that was all there was to me: a handsome face . . . and if he wanted to go shirtless around me, I wouldn’t complain. But just like William, there wasn’t the familiar breathlessness I felt whenever I was around a certain unnamed Titan. I’d surmised that I just had to find someone I hated equally as much as him and I could feel this way again. There was just a little malfunction in my brain is all.

But if Weston believed I wasn’t a virgin, that I’d bedded Maxim and however many others, then that’s what he could think. The farm girl was a virgin. The Sister was experienced, even if she had to lie about it.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Maxim raised a brow.

My stomach twisted at the fleeting look Weston gave me; it resembled dirty betrayal, and my heart unwillingly sank in my chest.

I let out a breath as Weston pushed me in front of him like I was a criminal in front of the magistrate. But that look still penetrated my mind, regret burning my stomach, and I couldn’t find the annoyance I should have. “This, whatever the fuck this is,” he said bitterly, “it’s done.”

Maxim’s jaw ticked at the harsh demand. Crossing his arms, he regarded me, and then with the tiniest flicker of disappointment, responded, “Done.”

Maxim rivaled my mother as an actor, but I was only glad this—whatever this was—was going smoother than I expected. Everyone just might get out alive. Now, if only I could part ways with Weston amicably, I could feel content with the situation. This was the closure I needed . . . wasn’t it?

But, alas, I was a girl playing a man’s game, and it turned around to bite me in the ass.

“You can have your vote as soon as your guards escort her out of the city.”

Weston’s words took a moment to fully register. Time stopped in my mind until with a couple of shallow breaths, it clicked back on, and the severity, the meaning became clear. He stood close behind me, the voice that had given me shivers just a moment ago, now only a cold sentence as if he really were the magistrate, and I a lowly commoner. My crime: being in the wrong tavern in the wrong city at the wrong time. His sentence: banishment.

I stood real still, my executor behind my back.

Turmoil twisted and bent inside me. The question most prevalent in my mind: why? Why did he care what I did? Where I did it? Why did he believe he had a say in the matter?

For whatever reason, he had planned this before he’d even kissed me tonight. Sending Maxim that note made that much clear.

“Far from the south. North, west, I don’t care. But I don’t want to see her here again. Make it happen, then you get your vote.”

I watched Maxim, my mind numb, my body stunned still at Weston’s demand.

“Done.”

Some dark hilarity rushed through me.

I’d just gotten played, and man did it burn.

With a thick throat, I swallowed, glancing up at the starry sky.

There was one thing I knew with a certaint

y: I couldn’t leave the city just yet. I could transfer to another Sister house with little problems, but the Sisterhood wasn’t what kept me here. The only possibility of being able to rid myself of a Fate that I knew about was that well. There was an actual documentation of a Fate being reversed in the books from the well, unlike other mystic entities like Lake Clare. It was my best chance.

I couldn’t compel myself out of this one, though, and anticipation ran up and down my arms, leaving a cold sweat at the decision I had to make. Even if the burn in my palms chose to make an appearance in the next few minutes and I fast-traveled, Weston could find me in seconds. Running from him wasn’t a possibility, and that left only one option for me. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve business here, and I’ll be staying until I finish it.”