The Marriage Game

In Which We Meet Camila's Parents and Also Her Mate

Serena reached the end of the corridor, whirled around, and jogged back to give Camila a quick hug.

"Oh, and have fun," she whispered in Camila's ear. "At least one of them will be decent." Then she was off, hurrying in low heels to the servant's quarters to triple check that everything was ready.

Camila risked a glance at Alex.

Her heart skipped a beat.

With hair the color of sunlit wheat and eyes like two slices of sky, Camila thought Alex might be the most handsome man she'd ever met. He reminded her of a statue: sculpted by a talented hand, towering over everyone around him, his face as expressionless as stone.

He didn't glance at her dress, the intricate makeup she'd spent hours applying. Not that she cared. 

"Hi Alex," she tried. Her voice sounded thin, maybe even shy. Camila shook herself and raised her chin. "Are you excited for the ceremony?"

If anything, he winced. "Sure." His gaze stayed fixed on the ornamental wallpaper beside her head. 

"...Good."

Camila didn't know what to say. Perhaps she didn't need to say anything—if he didn't want to be friends, that was his choice. She wasn't about to beg for attention.

She walked forward, her heels clicking against the hard marble floor. 

"Camila."

She froze.

"Good luck."

Camila swallowed and bobbed her head. A flush spread across her cheeks. "Thank you," she said and kept walking forward.

Except for the faint tapping of her heels against the floor and the soft rush of her breathing, the walk to the throne room was silent. Alex walked several steps behind her, as a bodyguard should and Camila had to fight the urge to ask him to walk beside her.

"Finally!" Her mother, Alpha Queen Isabella hurried over, tottering in four inch stilettos. "Camila. Remember. You do not want to be late for these things!" Her hair was frazzled. She picked at a few fraying strands on her own.

"Mom..." Camila pulled her mother's hands away from her hairdo. "You look beautiful."

"Well, thank you, although I'm sure I'd look better if I hadn't been quite so worried you were going to be late. You look lovely, by the way. Love the dress. Very fitting."

"Thank you."

"There's been a slight change of plans. That's why I was so- worried. I didn't want you to be surprised. You know the Vindicators?"

"The Vindicators? Of course."

The Vindicators were a thorn in the side of the aristocracy. They were responsible for a series of thefts across the eastern seaboard and the midwestern United States, as well as almost twenty assassinations. Camila's childhood friend Lucia had run afoul of them last winter. They'd found her body in shredded ribbons, recognizable only by a ripped purple bow clinging to a ponytail stiff with blood.

It was yet another reason Camila needed to marry. Without proper funding, her pack couldn't protect the people from the Vindicators. Even the stray vampires in the north were a threat they couldn't defend against.

Camila brought her mind back to the present. Her mother was speaking.

"We've captured one of their leaders. We're going to show him off, offer the alphas something to chew on, if you will, remind them we're a strong family even if we're desperate to marry you off for money. Anyways. It'll be after the suitors introduce themselves. I wanted you to- to not be worried. Or scared."