Page 14 of Cruelly Fated (Princes of Avari #1)

Thirteen

ALLIE

I woke to the sound of hammering in the distance.

What were the neighbors up to now? Groaning, I scrubbed a hand down my face.

The memories from yesterday flooded uninvited.

Kyon’s fiery eyes. The way he let me crawl around inside his mind like I belonged there.

That quiet intimacy didn’t match the rest of him, the dragon prince with a sealed-off private life and violent reputation.

And then there was Larry and his beady little eyes following me around the club like I owed him something.

He hadn’t said a word, but I could feel the gears in his greasy head turning.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The noise drew closer, right outside my window. What the freak? I padded over and shoved the old, chipped blinds aside.

A man in dress pants and a short-sleeved collared shirt was hammering a signpost directly into our front lawn.

I yanked on a robe, cinched the rope twice around my waist, and stormed to the front door. A paper notice flapped against it in the breeze. I ignored it, focusing instead on catching the guy before he left.

“Excuse me!” I called. “This is private property.”

The man paused mid-strike, leaning back to give me a once-over.

“Is Pete Marsh here?”

“No. I’m his closest living relative. You can run any of his matters through me.”

He pursed his lips. “Have you read the letter?”

“No.” What letter? We’d been getting mail since Grandpa’s arrest, but honestly…I hadn’t gotten around to opening any of it.

The man sighed—not with sympathy, but like he was about to explain something to a child that just couldn’t get the message. He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a business card, which he handed over.

“I’m with the bank. We’ve acquired the loan your grandfather took out against this property a few years back. ”

I frowned. “You mean…the reverse mortgage?” Mom had mentioned it. The property was ours until Grandpa’s death and the policy would even cover his funeral costs. Had she lied about this too?

The man tsked. “I don’t fully understand how that company operated. They filed for bankruptcy last year after being investigated for fraud. My bank acquired most of their outstanding loans. Yes, loans . Your grandfather hasn’t made a single payment to us, despite multiple attempts to contact him.”

Something lodged in my throat. I couldn’t speak. My gaze drifted to the sign for the first time.

Red bold letters spelled “FORECLOSURE.”

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening…

“I’m sorry,” the man said, but his tone lacked conviction like he’d said the same line a hundred times.

“How do I stop this? How much does he owe?” I spewed questions in a cracked voice.

He raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’m the notice guy. I’d suggest calling the bank directly.” He jiggled the signpost to make sure it was sturdy, then inclined his head and strode toward his car without another word.

I stood there, stunned, until the hum of his car engine faded down the street.

Then I dragged myself back toward the front door, head hanging low.

How could this be happening? How could Grandpa not tell me?

The disbelief in my chest twisted, burning, and blooming into anger.

I charged up the front steps and snatched the notice with both hands, ready to tear it off the door, but froze in time.

Tiny block letters at the bottom read: “Removal of this notice is subject to legal penalties and fines.”

Damn it.

I darted into the kitchen and yanked the entire kitchen drawer out. I dumped its contents onto the counter, tearing into the mail I’d been stuffing there for days. Two envelopes from the bank caught my eye. I ripped them open and scanned the contents, my stomach twisting.

There it was, clear as day. A final warning of foreclosure if a payment of twenty-four thousand wasn’t received by yesterday.

Twenty-four thousand dollars…

I collapsed onto the nearest kitchen stool and dropped my head onto the counter. With my savings gone and barely scraping by on shifts at the club, there was no way I could pull that kind of money together. And even if the bank gave me more time, which they wouldn’t, it still wouldn’t be enough.

A knock sounded at the door.

Great. Maybe the guy came back to post signs in the backyard, too.

“What,” I barked as I flung the door open.

Valor stood on the porch, his stunned face backlit by the late morning sun.

“Oh,” I said, awkwardly brushing my hair behind my ear. Too late to pretend I wasn’t a mess .

His gaze flicked to the foreclosure sign still taped to the door, then back to me.

“Not a good day?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms, attempting to hide Grandpa’s odious flannel robe with sleeves reaching to the tips of my fingers and fabric riddled with tiny holes from years of use.

I mean, right before me stood a vampire in glossy charcoal button-up, slim-cut gray trousers, and a matching jacket tossed effortlessly over his shoulder.

Gold-rimmed sunglasses perched on his face like he belonged in a designer ad, not on the porch of a crumbling house in the oldest, poorest neighborhood in Avari.

“The party’s tomorrow, and you need more practice,” he said.

I scrunched my eyes shut. With the bank giving me until Monday to pack and leave my childhood home behind, spying for Kyon had completely slipped my mind. But I’d already agreed to it, so…

“Give me a minute. I’ll meet you outside,” I said. If we left now, I wouldn’t even be late for work.

“We’re not training with Kyon today. He seems to be…too much of a distraction for you.”

Distraction? What was that supposed to mean?

Valor grinned like he could read my mind. And okay, maybe Kyon was a little distracting…

“What do you suggest?” I asked cautiously.

“Well, our target will likely be…lit. Which helps us—he won’t remember you. But it may make it harder for yo u to pull the memory we’re after. So, I brought someone with me. A close enough match for practice.” He paused, clearly enjoying the buildup. “Shall I invite him in?”

That piqued my curiosity. I glanced down at my outfit, robe still tied tight.

“Uh…give me a sec.” I darted toward my room, pulled on leggings and a long shirt, then returned to the living room tying my hair into a ponytail. “Alright, your friend can come in.”

Valor whistled between two fingers like he was calling a dog. I scrunched my nose. That didn’t suit the sophisticated vampire.

A creature as broad as my doorframe stumbled inside.

Shaggy dark blond hair, a football jersey, and ripped jeans.

He clapped Valor on the chest like a teammate, then clocked my worn-out couch, muttered “sweet” or something close to it, and flopped onto the cushions.

Bare, ginormous feet dangled off the edge.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, slowly crossing the room toward the guy now snoring with his mouth open.

“Frat party last night. He consumed copious amounts of Grim’s Brew, a wolf shifter drink with the alcohol content of jet fuel,” Valor said dryly.

I leaned over the new guy, inspecting his face. Under the mop of hair and stubble, he was actually handsome—strong jaw, sun-bronzed skin, and eyelashes long enough to make a girl jealous. He had that lazy charm that screamed trouble.

He popped his eyes open. “Hey, chica…” he drawled, reaching in a floppy arc to grab me.

Valor smacked his hand away. “She’s not yours. ”

“What? Your girl?” The frat boy blinked, still groggy. “Damn…she’s cute.” He squinted in my direction. “Are you sure she’s not mine?”

“Ignore him. Rhylan, meet Allie. Allie, Rhylan, wolf shifter fae and our test subject today.”

Rhylan groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “You said this would be fun. I cut my sleep short for this.”

“Allie’s going to rummage around in that blotto brain of yours for a bit of info. It’s a practice run for tomorrow’s party.”

Rhylan snapped his fingers, eyes wide. “The brain-spying chick?”

“Yes. Now lie still and let her do her thing,” Valor said, handing me a piece of folded paper. “I wrote down the item I want you to locate.”

I scanned the paper and nodded, then cracked my knuckles.

“Whoa, is she gonna beat me up? I don’t fight women. Only tie them up,” Rhylan said, his expression oddly serious for someone sprawled across my couch like a frat-house king.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t lay her tiny pinky on you. Relax.” Valor pressed a hand to the wolf’s shoulder, pinning him down, then gave me a nod.

I exhaled slowly and locked eyes with Rhylan. His were bright blue and hazy with leftover booze.

Mist curled around me. Soft female giggles echoed and then ebbed into silence.

“Rhylan,” a motherly voice called .

Warm breath skimmed my ear. I turned instinctively, searching for its source.

The mist parted.

I was on a football field. A helmeted opponent charged straight at me. I lifted my arms in pure reflex.

“Stop!” I yelled and the memory froze. I stepped back, turning around.

Rhylan’s eyes, still locked on me, narrowed in confusion. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he slurred, though his body stayed frozen mid-game.

“I’m not,” I agreed with a shrug. “Where can I find a tooth pendant?”

His brows furrowed. The scene around us melted and flickered to a team locker room, his cluttered dorm, back to the field, bleachers, a party…as if I was hitchhiking down his memory lane.

Then finally came a pause.

We faced what looked like a quiet, academic office.

Rhylan knocked on the door, strolled in, and while seated, threw his feet onto the desk like he owned the place.

A woman in her forties swatted at his sneakers and extended her hand.

He handed her a small object, and without hesitation, she tossed it into her drawer and waved him off.

I traveled backward through the fog, nausea clawing at my stomach. Valor caught me before I hit the floor and guided me into Grandpa’s oversized rocking chair.

“Did it work?” he asked, crouching in front of me.

“I think so,” I said, cradling my head. “He gave it to a professor—pretty, slim, maybe mid-forties. She had a psychology tome open on her desk.”

“Are you alright?”

“Uh…it feels weird. I got pulled into his memories without projecting an illusion. I’ve never done it like that before. Honestly, until yesterday, I didn’t even know I could pry into someone’s head.”

The dull ache in my skull finally began to subside, draining away like static. Valor pressed a cold glass of water into my hands, and I drank greedily.

On the couch, Rhylan stirred and mumbled something incoherent. He must’ve passed out while I went memory-hopping through his hungover brain.

“Did I pass?” I asked.

“With flying colors,” Valor smirked. His gaze swept the room, lingering on the old furniture, the threadbare rug, the kitchen sink piled with dishes.

His brows pinched. I could guess what he was thinking—definitely not somewhere a man like him would ever call home. Then his shrewd eyes landed back on me.

“My driver will be here at five tomorrow with your dress and shoes. I’ve already spoken with Larry. You have the day off, and yes—you’re getting paid.”

I blinked. Did he say a dress? Shoes?

“I have nice dresses,” I said. Technically, they were my mom’s, but we were the same size, and a few of them were stunning. Vintage but elegant .

“I don’t doubt that. But to look the part—as my date—everyone will expect you in designer everything. And trust me, they’ll know the difference,” Valor said with a smile meant to soften the blow to my ego.

I clamped my mouth shut. Fine. I could do it for one night.

The vampire hoisted Rhylan over his shoulder like he weighed nothing and headed for the door. The wolf’s long arms dangled, fingers touching the ground.

I followed, rubbing the back of my neck. This new ability seriously kicked my ass.

“Wait—” I ran out just as Valor dumped Rhylan into the back seat. The wolf’s legs were still hanging out of the car.

“Fae gods, his wolf had another growth spurt,” Valor muttered, shoving one leg in, then the other. I helped slam the door shut, smiling a little. There was something strangely endearing in the way he treated Rhylan…and even Kyon.

The dragon’s dark, blazing eyes flashed in my mind, and I trembled.

“Yeah?” Valor asked, catching the shift in my expression.

“You didn’t ask for my dress size. Or shoes—”

“Two and seven.”

My jaw dropped. “How…?”

Valor tilted his head. “I’m good with numbers.”

Huh.

“Anything else?” he prompted.

“What’s the deal with that thing Rhylan hid?” I asked, nodding toward the car .

The vampire grinned. “It’s a dumb tradition. We steal it from each other and hide it. It’s an old prank. I know, it’s ridiculous—but he can’t let it go.”

I raised a brow. “Sounds like you can’t either.”

He laughed. “Touché.”

“And the professor? She didn’t look too thrilled. She just agreed to hide it for him?”

“Rhylan practically runs that academy. Don’t worry about her; she’ll be fine.”

He winked and flashed to the driver’s side in a blur of motion. “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Miss Marsh.”