BLOODLINES: THE LYCAN'S QUEEN COURT

CHAPTER ONE

LENA’S POV

I should’ve known something was off.

It wasn’t just the way Jones barely made eye contact when I stepped out of the elevator onto the rooftop of Salvatore, but the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, I brushed it off. Ignoring the fact that there was something off about the whole evening.

My heels clicked softly against the marble floor as I approached him, with a smile on my face.

“You look…splendid,” he said, pulling me in for a hug.

I tucked a strand behind my ear and then giggled. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

My eyes wandered to the table, which he’d set up like something out of a romance movie: perfectly lit scented candles and a bottle of champagne.

For some reason, I thought he was nervous and in that moment it clicked that this was it.

The proposal.

‘I mean, why else had he asked about my ring size a couple of days ago?’

‘Why else did his text from last night read, “I’ve got a surprise planned for both of us tomorrow night at our usual rooftop,” with an emoji? It all lined up.

And with a smile creased on my face, I settled into my chair. My heart was racing, waiting for the moment.

In a couple of hours, dinner passed in a blur. And all I kept thinking was how I’d react and what I’d say when he got down on one knee.

Maybe a photo for Instagram if he made it official enough. But to my surprise, he stood up. I blinked.

Jones tapped his wine glass with the side of his fork, a smirk tugged at his lips as he did so. The soft hum of conversation on the rooftop turned, heads from the other guests around who I’d barely paid attention to, turned in our direction.

The slow jazz behind was now silent.

‘It’s happening!’

“It’s happening in front of everyone!’ I chanted to myself.

“Thanks for letting me steal a moment,” he began.

“I just want to say…you’re the most passionate, loving woman I’ve ever known. Even better, you’re brilliant and talented,”

“You’ve shown nothing but support and love these past few years,” Jones continued.

“But,” he added, and for some reason, my stomach sank.

“It becomes overwhelming sometimes, and draining…mentally.”

Instantly, the rooftop went silent as I stared at him. Frozen.

“Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I can’t be the man you need Lena, you’re just too much for me to handle. I’m sorry, but it’s over!”

“No!” I protested, fighting back the tears.

“You can’t do this to me, Jones!”

“Already have!” he shot back at me.

The air in my lungs tightened, as I watched him walk away.

No ring. No smile. No word to describe what had just happened. Just an exit with a broken heart.

Soft murmurs came from the guests around me, and in that moment I realized that phones were already out. Capturing the confused look on my face, my humiliation.

Without a word, I sat there gaping like an idiot. Trying so hard to blink back tears as the sound of Jones’s harsh words from earlier resurfaced in my mind.

In tears, I perked up to my feet running into the street ignoring the paparazzi stationed at the back with only one destination in mind.

Home!!!

*************************

I’d cried my eyes out the whole drive back to my apartment, with memories of the humiliation from earlier flooding my thoughts. Still in my red silk dress I’d picked from my favorite mall, the night before. My makeup, now smeared. My phone, blowing up next to me like a grenade.

“# TooMuchForJones”

“#LenaGotBlindsided”

“#SheThoughtHeWasProposing”

My heart sank, seeing that the video of my breakup was everywhere. Even to the point of hitting over two million views on the internet. They’d slowed down the exact moment my smile faded. Frame by painful frame.

At that moment, my phone buzzed again.

I took one glance and realized it was my best friend Mai. Knowing I had nothing to say, I ignored it.

But, then came her texts:

“Lena, are you okay?”

“Where are you GIRL?”

“I swear, I’m going to key his car.”

In pain, I let the phone slide down to the floor as the tears came streaming down my face in rivulets. Regretful of the fact that everyone had seen me at my most raw, my most stupid.

I perked up to my feet, my fingers trembling headed for the bathroom sink. In the mirror, I stared at myself and realized how terrible I looked in the blink of an eye.

Puffy eyes, smeared mascara. My hair strands now totally out of style and place. But in all of that, I saw something else.

A flicker in the dark. It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t heartbreak or hurt. But instead something deeper. I leaned closer to my reflection in the mirror and for a split second my eyes turned silver and In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

I backed away for a bit, confused about what the hell was happening. My mind raced with a million thoughts on why I’d seen that a couple of seconds ago.

Then my phone buzzed again, cutting me off from the little drama in my head.

“Now isn’t the best time to talk, Mai!” I mumbled to myself, staring at the screen of my phone angrily. But surprisingly it was a message from an unknown number.

And then came another notification. This time, a video someone had just posted.

Curious to know what it was, I tapped play. It started with the clip of Jones walking away from Salvatore. Then a cut to me, stone still in my chair. No tears. Just silence followed by screenshots of my humiliation, with captions that read:

“You thought she was his girlfriend? She was the storm the whole time.”

My heart thudded…