Alpha: War of the Alphas, #3 by SM Reine

Author:SM Reine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Fantasy / Urban
Publisher: Red Iris Books
Published: 2015-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

The only sound inside the chateau was the echoing of their footsteps, which bounced back at them a dozen times, making it sound as though there were a hundred people padding softly through the grand entryway.

Cobwebs dangled from darkened chandeliers. The crystal sconces looked like they hadn’t been dusted in years, caked in so much dirt and sand blown in from the beach that they were opaque. The bookshelves were broken, and held books that looked like they had survived a house fire, spines cracked and pages curled. But Marion and Rylie gazed at them in open awe.

“It’s amazing, as always,” Rylie told Storm.

Deirdre took another look around. It didn’t look amazing. Amazingly miserable, maybe.

Friederling noticed her expression, and he smirked, as though laughing internally. “It’s nice to see the court in full bloom, isn’t it?”

“So nice,” Deirdre said, smiling thinly.

The foyer was a long room that led back into an open deck covered by a pergola. Dead ivy draped from the wooden slats, which was worn down by years of salty wind, blown in from a sapphire ocean. Against the vibrant sky, all the colors of the chateau were dull.

An old chair leaned against the stone wall dividing the patio from the ocean. At least, Deirdre thought it was supposed to be a chair. Its back was broken, the seat sagging, termite holes gnawed through the legs.

“The Sapling Throne,” Friederling said to Deirdre. He was enjoying her disconnect far too much.

Rylie giggled and sidestepped nothing, cheeks bright red. “Sorry,” she said to the nothingness that she had dodged.

Marion stepped back a moment later. She was reacting to the same thing that Deirdre couldn’t see.

It was chilling to see her companions interact with invisible people—like being surrounded by ghosts.

Even though she couldn’t see them, Deirdre felt the air stirring around her, as though there were bodies moving nearby. Judging by the speed and rhythm, it felt like they were close to her, as though orbiting her body. Taunting her when she couldn’t see them.

“My liege.” Storm dropped to one knee.

Deirdre braced herself to face a king she couldn’t see, so she was surprised when a man came striding across the patio, stepping in and out of the pergola’s shadow in turns.

He didn’t look like a man who should keep unicorns as pets. He looked more like the kind of man who would have been happy spending his weekends lying on his back underneath a car, getting covered in grease and only pausing to drink from a cold beer. His hair was shaved into a short mohawk. His shoulders were broad, face inexpressive.

But he came to sit on what Friederling had called the Sapling Throne, so he must have been the king.

He looked just as desperately miserable as the rest of the chateau.

“Thanks for seeing us today,” Rylie said.

He grunted. “Who all is this?” He even spoke with a faint East Coast accent. Like a court ruled by a cab driver from Jersey. “Secretary Friederling, I know you. And her?” He was looking at Deirdre.

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