Chapter 5: First Encounter

They walked through corridors that seemed to go on forever. Eve glimpsed rooms through open doors....a library with floor-to-ceiling books, a formal dining room with a table that could seat thirty, a sitting room with furniture that probably cost more than her entire apartment building.

Finally, Mrs. Blackwood stopped at a door in what she'd called the west wing. "This is your suite for the evening."

She opened the door, and Eve stepped into a room that was larger than her entire apartment.

The bedroom was decorated in deep blues and silvers...a massive four-poster bed dominated one wall, draped in silk that looked like water. French doors opened onto a private balcony. Another door led to what appeared to be a bathroom.

"The masters' private quarters are through that connecting door," Mrs. Blackwood pointed to a heavy wooden door on the far wall. "They'll come through when they're ready. Your bag has been placed in the closet. Is there anything else you require?"

Eve's mouth was dry. "No. Thank you."

Mrs. Blackwood studied her for a moment, and something almost like sympathy crossed her face. "A word of advice, Miss Chen. The masters value obedience and honesty above all else. Don't lie to them, don't try to manipulate them, and don't run. Those who've made those mistakes have regretted it."

Before Eve could respond, the woman was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

Eve stood alone in the opulent bedroom, her heart pounding.

Don't run.

As if she could. As if there was anywhere to go in this massive estate surrounded by pack lands. As if she hadn't already signed away her right to refuse.

She walked to the French doors and stepped onto the balcony. The view was breathtaking...rolling grounds lit by moonlight, forests in the distance, and beyond that, mountains. It was beautiful and isolated and utterly removed from the world she knew.

A prison disguised as paradise.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Eve spun around, her heart leaping into her throat.

A man stood in the bedroom doorway...tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and eyes like storm clouds. He wore a black suit that fit him perfectly, emphasizing the powerful body beneath. His face was all sharp angles and harsh beauty, cold in a way that made her want to step back.

But she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Because this was one of them.

"Damian," he said, stepping into the room with predatory grace. "The eldest. Though only by minutes."

His voice was exactly like his email...cold, precise, commanding. He moved like a predator, each step deliberate and controlled.

"Eve Chen," he continued, stopping a few feet away. Close enough that she could smell him...pine and smoke and something darker. "Twenty-three years old. Only child. Mother dying of a rare blood disease. No father in the picture. You've been dancing at Eclipse for eight months, and you've never taken a private client before now."

She should be disturbed that he knew so much. Instead, she just felt exposed.

"You researched me."

"Of course." His gray eyes swept over her, clinical and assessing. "Did you think we'd sign a six-month contract with someone we hadn't thoroughly investigated?"

Two more figures appeared in the doorway.

Brothers...that much was immediately obvious. They had the same height, the same powerful build, the same predatory grace. But where Damian was ice, these two were fire and shadow.

The one on the left had the same dark hair as Damian, but his eyes were green and gleamed with dangerous amusement. Scars marked his jaw and neck...evidence of fights won or survived. He smiled when he saw her, and it was the smile of a wolf who'd cornered prey.

"Damon," he said, his voice rough velvet. "The middle. The fun one."

The third brother said nothing. He simply stared at her with eyes so dark they looked black. His face was leaner than his brothers', almost beautiful in its severity. Where Damian radiated cold control and Damon radiated wild danger, this one radiated... intensity. Like he was cataloging every detail of her existence.

"Silas," Damian said. "The youngest. Don't expect much conversation from him. He prefers to watch."

The way he said watch made Eve's skin prickle.

All three of them were in the room now, and suddenly the enormous space felt too small. They surrounded her without seeming to move...Damian in front, Damon circling to her right, Silas drifting to her left.

Predators boxing in prey.

"You signed the contract," Damian said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"You read all sixty-three pages?"

"Yes."

"And you understand what you've agreed to?" His gray eyes pinned her in place. "Six months. Your body, your time, your obedience. All ours."

Eve's hands clenched at her sides. "I understand."

"Do you?" Damon moved closer, circling her like he was considering how to take his first bite. "Because you look terrified, little dancer. Like you're about to bolt."

"I won't run," Eve said, lifting her chin. "I signed a contract. I keep my promises."

"How noble." Damon's smile widened. "But we don't want your nobility. We want your submission."

Silas finally spoke, his voice quiet but somehow more commanding than his brothers'. "You smell like fear."