Page 48

Curious, I purse my lips as I lean over it. It’s a pretty normal, black jewelry box with smooth edges.

“It won’t bite, Kitten,” Ayden chuckles, so I do the mature thing and stick my tongue out at him.

“Alright, already,” I mutter, opening the box. Inside is a pretty anklet that no one would notice with the dress or any other daily activity. I don’t wear shorts outside of pajamas because I’m not comfortable with the attention. It’s possible that’ll fade eventually, but I imagine it’ll be a long way off. There is a saying on the silver tag that says: Trust or die.

Reaching out for Ayden’s hand before I realize what I’m doing, I link my pinkie in his. He has this exact same saying tattooed along his pinkie.

“I love it.” I sigh. It’s such a beautiful and thoughtful gift, I can’t bring myself to be annoyed that I have to be tagged like a dog.

“Yeah?” Ayden asks, his beautiful hazel eyes soft with vulnerability.

“Yes, it’s a very sweet gift,” I tell them all.

“Softie,” Andrya teases me. “The tracker is embedded in the silver, so no one will be able to notice it, and it’s also undetectable. You can wear it anywhere, and as long as it’s on your body, Isaac or Ayden will be able to find you.”

“Thanks guys,” I whisper, blinking hard. Damn mascara, I don’t know if it’s waterproof.

“No, no, no! None of that. Eyes wide open,” Andrya panics, leaning over me to blow lightly over my eyes. “No crying, no mushy shit. Guys, go get dressed. If you make her cry, I’ll castrate the men I’m not fucking.”

“Safe!” Sidney crows as he walks out.

“Aw, fuck,” Gray grumbles, cupping his dick through his pants as he stands.

“I don’t know how I feel about all this,” Ayden complains as he leaves, making me cackle.

“Good girl,” Andrya says once we’re alone. Kneeling at my feet, she attaches the clasp on the anklet. It fits perfectly and when I shake my foot it doesn’t make any noise. “Maybe we are a little fucked up for wanting to know where you are at all times, but I don’t care.”

Helping her up off the floor, I hug her. “I don’t either. I always want you to be able to find me.”

Andrya swallows back tears as she drags me out of the kitchen to get dressed. She still won’t let me look in the mirror, and even fixes my makeup where it smudged a bit. The guys are all dressed in tuxedos as she finishes.

“Alright, go look. I won’t be long!” Andrya races to the bathroom, and the guys stand slack jawed as they stare at me.

“Is it too much?” I ask hesitantly. Swallowing hard, Isaac shakes his head.

“No, you look like… a queen,” he says, his voice raspy and harsh.

Looking over at the mirror, I gasp. The blush color of the dress is a deep, almost raspberry color. The straps hang perfectly off my shoulders, and the dress shows a deep decolletage. The chiffon flows as if it’s water once the tight fit of the satin ends at my waist. It looks like a gown meant for royalty.

“Oh my Gods,” I breathe, eyes wide.

“Bombshell!” Andrya yells through the bathroom, making me giggle. “Okay, start calling the rideshares, I’ll be out in ten.”

I have no idea how she’s able to get ready so quickly when it took hours for me. My eyeshadow is done in dark browns, making my green eyes pop. Dark, ruby red lips and a hint of blush finish out my makeup, making me feel as if I’m looking at another person.

Sure, I wear makeup because Cinder demands it, but I only know the basics. A maid was actually nice enough to teach me, and we made sure that no one ever found out. I stick to lighter colors, and can’t do a smokey eye to save my life. I’m absolutely in awe, and so damn lucky to have Andrya in my life for so many reasons.

“Come on, Little Hacker,” Isaac murmurs. “Let's move. The cars will be here soon. It’s showtime.”

Taking a deep breath, I walk with him outside, making sure to grab a jacket. The event is going to have heat warmers everywhere, so I won’t have to worry about it. It’ll be a perfect seventy-five degrees, even though in reality the temperature is taking a nosedive.

“Where’s Andrya?” I ask as the cars start to arrive.

“I’m coming!” she yells running down the stairs. Turning, I watch as she makes her way to us. We all have our masks in place now, and so does she. I really don’t think I would recognize her, because the blue streak in her hair is cleverly hidden in the braided bun she created.

Her hazel eyes look incredible as they gaze out from her white mask, and works well with her shimmering gold gown.

“Wow,” I breathe, entranced by the baby pink of her lips. Andrya looks as if she dusted shimmery gold on her skin, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.