Home > The Dark Ones (The Dark Ones Saga #1)(2)

The Dark Ones (The Dark Ones Saga #1)(2)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Not to mention, his mouth wasn't moving, yet he was speaking.

I knew what he was.

"Fear isn't welcome here." He spoke again, this time rubbing my back as if to comfort me. But his mouth still didn't move. Regardless of the knowledge in my head about this type of creature, I was still having trouble breathing.

This was really happening.

My number had been called.

I was at the ceremony.

My life was going to change forever.

To run away would mean death.

To take a few more steps — well, it meant the same thing. Especially if I didn't please them.

I tugged at my sweater, my palms sweating.

"You look lovely, just remember. No fear. You are nothing. You are everything. You are simply… you." He nodded again and the two oak doors opened.

A gasp escaped between my lips before I could stop it.

"They have that effect on everything," he whispered.

And then the lights brightened.

All the schooling in the world couldn't have prepared me for what I saw. All the pictures, all the movies, all the preparation.

And suddenly, I wanted very much to fall to my knees and cry.

CHAPTER TWO

Genesis

"GO ON," THE MAN URGED.

I took another step forward.

And suddenly he was gone. The doors shut behind me. I was completely and utterly alone.

Facing them.

Was I allowed to look directly at them? Was I supposed to speak? I had no idea what the protocol was, only that if I broke it, I wouldn't even feel pain before they sliced me up and tossed my parts back to where I'd come from.

I held my head high and waited, all the while repeating the same mantra in my head. ”I'm nothing, I'm nothing. I'm everything."

"Genesis." A smooth voice called my name. It was so beautiful on his lips I wanted to cry again, and I'd never thought myself an overly emotional person, one of the only things my mom had applauded me for.

Slowly, I turned to the left. A man dressed in dark jeans and a white T-shirt stood from a silver throne. His hair was impossibly light, almost white, his eyes a glowing blue.

He was smiling.

It looked painful on him.

Only because it was so beautiful.

"Fear isn't welcome here." He repeated the same thing the first man had said.

"Apologies… sir." Or was it my lord? I couldn't remember and hoped it wouldn't be the last thing I uttered. How bad would that suck? Not that I'd be alive to actually care.

"Ah…" A blindingly white smile flashed in my direction as heat from his body flew at me in waves, nearly sending me to my knees. From my fingers all the way down to my toes, I wanted to touch him. I wanted to taste him. It was more than just being near him — I wanted everything about him to consume me until I wasn't even me anymore.

Don't you though? His voice sounded in my mind.

I blinked, trying to stay strong as the pieces fell together. He was a male siren, someone so sensual, so strong in his sexuality that he couldn't help but give off pheromones by merely breathing. Our books hadn't mentioned male sirens, but I couldn't imagine him being anything but that. He was too perfect, too strong, too warm. My body hummed with awareness.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he said, the waves getting hotter and hotter, making me want to whimper aloud. I wanted to touch him, any part of him, even his feet. How stupid was that? I would literally sell my soul if I could touch his big toe.

He threw his head back and laughed. "This should be fun."

"Alex, stop it," a woman said to his right. "She's shaking."

"So am I." He winked.

Something flew by his head, barely missing his chin.

"Damn it, Stephanie, let me have my fun."

"You have fun," the woman rolled her eyes, "every day. Now sit down before you give her a heart attack."

Alex sat, the waves slowly dissipated, and I was able to focus on the woman next to him. They could have been twins, except she wasn't just beautiful, but absolutely flawless — her eyes were the same bright blue, and she was wearing one of the dresses I'd seen at Nordstrom the week before… the price tag had been too high, and I'd been convinced that even if I'd put it on, it would look dumpy on me.

Because my mother's voice chimed in my head, "You are nothing."

I clenched my fists tighter and managed a head nod in her direction.

When my eyes fell to the third person in the room, I took a step back.

"Fear is not welcome here," the man barked, his eyes black and cold.

"Right," I whispered. "I'm — I'm sorry."

His lips twitched. Where the others were bright and pretty, he had shaggy brown hair that hung past his shoulders and black eyes that seemed to see right through me; his smile was attractive but predatory, and I was pretty sure that if he wanted to break me in half just to prove he could, he'd only need to use two fingers.

"You're different from the others."

I wasn't sure if different was good or bad; it was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I thought better of it when he leaned forward, causing my heartbeat to sky rocket.

He was a beast or werewolf. I'd studied his kind, even though it had terrified me to go over those chapters in class. They were unpredictable, angry, scary hunters that thought emotions were for the weak.

It was believed they lacked the ability to empathize with others, making them one of the most dangerous creatures to humans.

   
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