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I just resist the urge to gouge him in the eye with the keys I’m still holding.

Instead, I shudder out a breath. “Don’t worry. I know my way back to Harmony Heights.”

His lips twitch. “I thought you might.”

TWO

I DON’T

LONI

It takes nine days before Desmond comes to see me.

I don’t know why. When Dallas gave me the choice of continuing to run and letting my dad pay for my absence or sucking it up, returning to Harmony Heights, and agreeing to marry a man I haven’t spoken to in a decade, there wasn’t really a choice at all. Dad’s the only family I have left. Mom got sick when I was fourteen, dying when I was sixteen, and I never had any siblings. My parents were only children, too, so no aunts. No uncles. No cousins. Even my grandparents are gone, leaving just me and Dad.

I can’t let anything happen to him.

So, with Dallas and his nondescript matte black coupe following behind me, I drove all the way back to my childhood home. It was a relief to see Dad, a little fatter, a little grayer, and with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was alive, though, and as Dallas parked out front, even getting out to help me lug my suitcases inside, I knew I would be spending the next two weeks with my father.

After that? I’m not really sure. After an Offering marries her Owed, she goes to live with him. I figured that would be the same for me and Desmond. I’ll have my own room if I request it, but in the eyes of Harmony Heights, I’ll be his wife.

His property.

His.

I don’t go to him. That’s not how it’s done. Once an Owed Claims their Offering, he’s in control. It’s up to him to do whatever he can to convince his Offering to accept him in return. I guess, since King Collins has decided that I’m being shackled to Desmond for the rest of my life, he figured he didn’t have to. By returning to Harmony Heights, I’ve already agreed to marry him.

When the alternative is allowing my father to die instead, what else could I do?

But then, nine days later, I’m sitting on my childhood twin bed, tapping at my computer, when Dad’s careful knock breaks up my concentration.

To pretend like this isn’t happening to me, I’ve thrown myself into my work. It’s the perfect distraction, and I hold up my finger as though Dad can see me before realizing how ridiculous that is.

Closing the lid on my laptop, I set it aside. “Yes?”

“Loni, honey? Can you come downstairs? You have a visitor.”

My heart lodges in my throat. Dad’s been avoiding me just like how I’ve been choosing to stay in my old room, sneaking down to the kitchen for food whenever I’m sure he won’t be there. I’m basically a prisoner because his position is clear: the Order wants me to get married, and he listens to the Order.

My whole damn life, the Order has come first for everyone I know. Mom. Dad. Haven. Desmond.

Adrian…

Huffing slightly, I move toward the door, wishing that for once… just once… someone chose Loni Dougherty over the secret society that governs every moment of our lives.

By the time I open the door, Dad is gone. I don’t have any illusions that he’s gone down to entertain our guest. This is the first one I’ve had since I returned home. Part of me wondered if I might hear from Haven before I quickly accepted that that wouldn’t happen. The last time I spoke to her, we were both seventeen, butting heads, and she told me to call her when I stopped fucking up my life.

I left home a week later, too much of a chickenshit to tell her. I made it impossible for her to reach me, too, and if she ever tried, I have no idea. She probably was the first one to say ‘good riddance’ when I ran.

Well, no. That was probably Adrian, and if it wasn’t? That’s only because he’d have to find someone else to torment the way he did me.

Did he? I don’t know. If I’m being honest, one of the reasons why I’ve stayed inside the house is because I’m afraid I might run into Adrian. And I… I can’t. I even went so far as to ask Dad to see the guest list for this farce of a wedding to make sure that he wasn’t on it.

To my surprise, he wasn’t. Not because he’d be there for me, but because Desmond and Adrian were tight when we were growing up. They were part of the same clique, the handsome, rich, powerful boys who would be the men who ruled Harmony Heights after high school was done. Dallas is coming, of course, but that’s the only familiar name from the old days on the list.

I don’t know how I feel about that, but as I trudge toward the living room, I tell myself it’s for the best.

I buried my positive feelings for Adrian so deep, leaving only hurt and hate on the surface. Him showing up at my weddingto the boy who dumped me when he found out I wasn’t a virgin would be like rubbing salt into an open wound.