I was wrong. I know that now, and dammit, if I could go back in time and do things differently, I would.
I would’ve made him move in with me. I would have worked harder, earned more, and moved us both out of this shithole of a city. Somewhere nice. Quiet. Someplace where he wouldn’t have the chance to get into any of this shit.
That’s what I should have done, and I swear if we ever get out of here, that’s what I’m going to do.
I tear my gaze away from him and burn off the encroaching tears with sheer willpower. Nobody saw them, I don’t think, and I can’t afford to have an emotional reaction like that again. I can’t let anybody know that I know him, or the vampires will get suspicious.
A sudden thought strikes me, sending chills through my heart.
Has anyone ever tried this before? Gone into the nest after one of their own? Are the vamps expecting me to do this? Do they know that their new male tribute is related to the one who keeps hunting them down?
No. Not possible. If they knew that, they’d know who I am, and they never would’ve let me inside these walls.
I slow my breathing, and once I’m sure I’ve got myself under control, I risk another glance at the male tributes. I was wrong before. They’re not heading toward the empty tables that I assume are for them. Instead, they’re being led toward the high table.
“Oh, wow. They’re hot,” Chelsea breathes.
Winona glances at her with something between disgust and disappointment. “Don’t make eyes at the help, you idiot. They are nothing to you, you get me? You’re after a vampire. With your”—she waves her fingers in a figure eight through the air—“physique, you might shoot for the lower end of the spectrum. Maybe a guard or the auctioneer. But never go after the male tributes. They’re human. They aren’t why you’re here.”
“Why do you care what she does?” Jessica asks with a frown. “Isn’t it just less competition for you?”
Winona sniffs. “Slumming like that brings down everybody’s market value, sweetheart. I refuse to have my reputation tarnished by association.”
Chelsea blushes a bright, unhealthy red and looks down, muttering under her breath. I watch the tributes subtly, trying to keep my face half-hidden behind Jessica’s head. I need to get a sense of how Nathan is doing, but I don’t want him to see me yet.
Of course, as soon as I have that thought, I fucking jinx myself. Nathan’s halfway up the platform steps when he glances around the room, and I can tell the exact moment when he spots me. His eyes go wide, and for a second, he looks like he’s going to step out of line and run across the room toward me.
No. Don’t move, I pray silently, my stomach knotting itself so tightly I’m sure I’ll never be able to get food inside it again. Stay. Shut up. Don’t say a goddamn word, Nathan. If you value your life or mine, you’ll keep your mouth shut.
I turn away from him and giggle in Chelsea’s direction, loud enough to carry but not so loud as to be unnatural. I don’t know what the fuck she just said or if it was even remotely funny, but I don’t care.
Read the signs, Nathan. For God’s sake, play it cool.
“Nothing wrong with looking,” I tell the still-blushing Chelsea. “Some of them are really cute.”
My heart is thudding a million beats a minute as Anastasyia moves toward us, waving us out of our seats.
“Come, come,” she says. “Smooth procession, come now. I thought Arthur would communicate beforehand to make this a nice coordinated effort, but I guess he’s still upset that more female tributes were chosen in this round than male ones. I always tell him it’s not up to me, so it’s really not my fault, but he just will not let it go. Come on, shortest to tallest. We’re behind, but don’t look hurried. Decorum, decorum, smile girls!”
We all stand, and I get shuffled around, passed backward as the shorter girls jockey for position. Only Winona and the returning victim are behind me. We’re led to the opposite end of the high table from the men, and the matron starts up the stairs just as the male tributes are settling into position before the prince.
Every one of the men is looking at the vampire court seated behind the table—every one except Nathan. He’s looking right at me. I can feel his gaze burning into my face and I’m trying very, very hard not to look back at him.
We’re lined up in front of the high table before I’m done wrestling myself under control. My heart is flip-flopping like a fish on the bottom of a boat as the shortest male and shortest female tributes stand next to each other, creating a clear view between Nathan and me. Anastasyia and the male tribute’s—patron, I guess?—step forward as one.
“The new tributes, your highness,” Anastasyia says, sinking into a deep curtsy. “And a wonderful batch they are too.”
“Not nearly as wonderful as these new tributes.” The man who I assume must be Arthur gestures to the men, bowing even more deeply. “Young and strong and impulsive, all of them.”
Dammit, Nathan, stop staring at me. You’re going to give us away.
The prince is looking at me. Not at the female tributes as a whole—no, his eyes are locked right on me. God fucking dammit. Bastian can probably hear my heart galloping like it’s trying to bust out of my chest.
Nathan is still staring, and even as the weight of my brother’s focus makes my skin itch, the prince narrows his eyes at me.
Shit.
He knows.
Chapter Eight
I expect the prince to call me out, to drag me or Nathan or maybe both of us forward and make an example of us in front of everyone. But he doesn’t. He stays silent, still looking at me intently, and for the first time, it occurs to me that maybe the vampire prince is staring at me for a different reason entirely. Maybe whatever has drawn his focus to me is a good thing—maybe it’ll keep him from noticing the way Nathan is staring at me too.
Prince Bastian doesn’t say a word as Anastasyia introduces us all, one by one. On the other side of the platform, Arthur is working his way through the male tributes, having them each say their names.
I grit my teeth as Nathan gives his real name. Did he learn nothing from me at all? Apparently not. At least he isn’t staring anymore, but if he doesn’t wipe that shocked look off his face, we’re going to be caught anyway.
“And there you have it,” Anastasyia says proudly as Arthur finishes. “All twenty of them.”
The prince nods slowly, finally releasing me from his gaze to run his eyes over all of us. After a moment, he waves a hand, apparently dismissing us. Anastasyia bustles past me to the end of the line and leads us back to our table. The new male tributes are being led to the empty tables I expected them to go to earlier. The large dance floor is between us, but there’s a direct line of sight from the male tables to our table.
Fantastic, more opportunities for Nathan to blow my cover.
“I don’t think the prince liked us very much,” Chelsea says glumly as we all find our seats again.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Anastasyia says briskly, smiling perfunctorily. “The prince has his moods, and not all of them are pleasant. If he disapproved of any of you, he would have had you taken away for—well, that doesn’t matter. All that matters now is that you behave yourselves. The feast will begin in just a few minutes, so… well, just do as you’re told, and everything will be fine. Now, I need to have a word with Arthur. That was a disastrous presentation.”