by Gemma James
Contents
Copyright
Titles by Gemma James
Summary
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Up Next
Also Available
Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Aries
Copyright © 2019 Gemma James
Ebook cover and interior design by Gemma James
Cover images used under license from depositphotos.com and pngtree.com
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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TITLES BY GEMMA JAMES
The Zodiac Queen Series
Aries (The Zodiac Queen #1)
Taurus (The Zodiac Queen #2)
Gemini (The Zodiac Queen #3)
Cancer (The Zodiac Queen #4)
Leo (The Zodiac Queen #5)
Virgo (The Zodiac Queen #6)
Libra (The Zodiac Queen #7)
Scorpio (The Zodiac Queen #8)
Sagittarius (The Zodiac Queen #9)
Capricorn (The Zodiac Queen #10)
Aquarius (The Zodiac Queen #11)
Pisces (The Zodiac Queen #12)
Condemned Series
Torrent (Condemned #1)
Rampant (Condemned #2)
Fervent (Condemned #3)
Vagrant (Condemned #4)
Deviant (Condemned #5)
Descent (Condemned #6)
Devil’s Kiss Series
The Devil’s Kiss (Devil’s Kiss #1)
The Devil’s Claim (Devil’s Kiss #2)
The Devil’s Wife (Devil’s Kiss #3)
The Devil’s Spawn (Devil’s Kiss #4)
Trashy Affair Series
Trashy Foreplay (Trashy Affair #1)
Trashy Conquest (Trashy Affair #2)
Standalone Novels
Epiphany
Swallow Me Whole
SUMMARY
Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage.
The first time I met the boys of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I was forced to my knees for the introduction. Still grieving the death of my parents, I was a child queen, a pawn in my uncle’s agenda for wealth and gain. As my guardian, he had the authority to arrange a marriage upon my eighteenth birthday.
That meeting took place six years ago.
Now those boys are powerful men.
Twelve virile men that want to own me.
And I must spend a month with each one.
Bending and yielding to their desires and commands.
Shedding pieces of my innocence so long as my virtue remains intact.
Because they want a virgin queen after the last month concludes, and my uncle plans to auction me off to the highest bidder.
Out of the twelve men, only one has my heart.
And only one can claim my hand in marriage.
If only it were up to me to decide.
Part 1 of The Zodiac Queen.
Prologue
Crushing grief. It’s all I know. All I feel.
The ache slithers through my soul, weighing down my bones and slicing me into a distorted version of the girl I used to know. Now there’s just an apparition, a pale-faced creature whose flaxen braids belie a mature age of twelve. I hold my breath, afraid to breathe—as if the simple act of inhaling and exhaling will make this tragic reality real.
Each second crawls by in slow motion until my lungs burn for air. I suck in a soundless breath as movement surrounds me.
My uncle’s feet hitting the floor in lazy, unhurried steps.
The burden of a stranger’s gaze.
The dread that taints the air.
“You must be Novalee,” says the stranger with the unfamiliar shiny black shoes.
I don’t react to the statement, and Uncle Rowan’s brows slash into fierce lines of disproval. “Please excuse my niece’s reticent behavior. I’m afraid she hasn’t been herself since the plane crash.”
“It’s quite understandable. Such a sudden tragedy.”
They talk about me as if I’m not here. As if my shattered heart isn’t bleeding all over the rug my mother loved when she was alive. I focus on the pattern underneath the pillow that cushions my knees, following the kaleidoscope of browns and royal blues as I smooth my sweaty palms down the front of the dress Rowan made me wear.
White for purity, I heard him mutter when he thought I wasn’t listening.
He wanted me to look pretty for our guest, and even though I don’t understand why I’m required to kneel in this stranger’s presence, I don’t mind because it means I can pretend he’s not really here. I can be invisible like the heroines in my favorite fantasy books, cloaked by magic and imagination.
“Shall we get down to business?” asks the man standing next to my uncle. I give him a quick once-over. He’s tall and broad, and I’m fascinated with the way his coppery hair catches the sunlight spilling through the arched windows in the sitting room. I’ve never seen such a color on a man before.
“Of course.” My uncle gestures toward the archway leading into the study where my father spent most of his evenings. “Right this way, if you will.”
They leave me on my knees, and I hear him ask the man with the copper hair if he would like a drink. For the next several minutes, the clinking of glasses and low voices filter into the sitting room through the ajar door, and I catch words that make my stomach sour with dread.
Words like virginity and auction and marriage. I fist my hands against my thighs, wishing I could roam the grounds with the birds and butterflies, but I don’t dare move from my designated spot on my dead mother’s prized rug.
Rowan is a strict enforcer, and I don’t want to experience the stinging bite of his leather belt like Faye did yesterday for disobeying an order. Faye is my age and a daughter of a servant, but she’s always been like a sister to me. We grew up together inside these walls, playing hide-and-seek in the countless rooms and halls. Before my parents’ plane went down last week, we had free rein of the mansion and the surrounding grounds.
Until Uncle Rowan arrived and changed everything.
My parents have only been gone a week, both graves heavy and fragrant with fresh soil and sorrowful bouquets, but my uncle leaped into taking charge of our lands before the sun sank below the horizon on the day of the wake. I’m the daughter of a king, and now that my parents are gone, I’m the queen of a nation. A powerless child queen, because as my guardian, Rowan holds all the power.
“Why in God’s name are you kneeling?” someone asks from behind me, his insolent male tone disturbing my misery. “You’re not in the presence of the chancellor, princess.”
I tilt my head and catch a hint of wild blond hair in my periphery. “My uncle told me to kneel.”
“Do you always do what you’re told?”
My brows pull together. “Don’t you?”
“Much to my father’s aggravati
on, no. But your obedience is admirable.”
“Obedience was important to my parents.”
“Then I suppose you’ll be a perfect little wife someday.”
The disdain in his voice piques my interest, and I pivot on my knees to face him. His gaze meets mine, shooting a strange flutter of awareness through my chest. He appears to be in his teens, and just as I suspected, his dark blond hair surrounds his face in chaos, flopping over his forehead and threatening to hide his eyes.
And those sea-blue eyes are the reason for the sudden lack of air in my lungs. There’s something about his stare that sends me into a trance. He circles me, footsteps slow and deliberate, and it reminds me of the way a lion preys on a prospective meal.
“Don’t you want to get married someday?” I ask him, still wondering about his odd tone when he mentioned marriage.
His full lips slope into a frown. “What do you know about marriage? You’re just a child.” He gestures at my chest. “You don’t even have a real set of tits yet.”
Mortification heats my cheeks. “What an inappropriate thing to say!”
“The truth is rarely appropriate, princess.”
“I’ll kindly remind you I’m a queen, and you’ll address me as such.”
His snicker crawls down my spine with dark intent. “A queen on her knees. How…appropriate.”
“Just go away,” I snap, hating the petulance in my tone but helpless to mask it. He makes me want to grind my teeth, especially since I can’t confront his rudeness with both feet planted firmly under me.
“Leave the sweet girl alone, Sebastian.”
I startle at the presence of another boy. He halts in front of me, having come in from the gardens, same as the boy he called Sebastian. Through the open door, a breeze carries in the music of songbirds and the sweet aroma of plumeria, and once again, I wish to escape outside into the humid heat.
“I don’t take orders from you,” my tormentor fires back with that same irritated attitude I detected a few minutes ago.
“Someday, you will.” The boy’s coppery hair gives away his parentage, as does the authority in his tone. He seems older than his rude friend with the aqua gaze that makes my body warm and tingly in strange ways.
I avert my attention to the rug, assuming the older boy is the son of the man talking to my uncle in the other room.
Someone of great importance.
A leader.
Of course, I’ve heard whispers about the island up north where a group of powerful men reign in a circular tower twelve stories above the ground floor. I don’t know the reason for their visit, but their presence scares me.
One by one, the sitting room fills with the opposite sex, ages ranging from early teens to adulthood. They surround me, eyes alight with curiosity.
“So this is her?” a dark-haired teenager asks.
“I expected her to be younger,” someone else says.
Laughter flits through the room, the deep gruff too mature to belong to a boy. “And I expected her to be older.” I catch the emerald gaze of the boy…man…who laughed at my age. He must be a decade older than me.
And now I’m fidgeting, twirling two tiny blond braids around my finger as I try not to squirm under their stares.
“By the time the queen turns eighteen,” the boy with the copper hair says, “the age difference won’t matter.” He closes the distance between us and covers my hand, putting a stop to my nervous braid-twirling. Returning my hands to my lap, I nibble my bottom lip as he pets the top of my head.
“What happens when I turn eighteen?”
He takes me by the chin, fingers warm and gentle. “Upon your eighteenth birthday, my queen, you’ll belong to us.”
Chapter One
Present-day, March 21st
The road is smooth under the wheels of the limousine, unhindered by bumps or potholes. Not that I’d know much about either. I’ve been surrounded by the absolute best from the moment I came out of the womb. Artisan furniture made of quality wood and fine leather. Enough jewelry to match every hue of nail polish in existence. Collections of the latest couture—a wardrobe large enough to need its own wing.
It took several chests to contain even a tenth of my clothing. Uncle Rowan said he’d send the rest at a later date. In the meantime, he promised a shopping spree with my ladies after we settle on Zodiac Island. Maybe if I weren’t visiting the small nation in metaphorical chains, the prospect of new clothing and jewels would excite me.
“It’s so beautiful,” Elise says, awe dripping from her tone as we pull between the iron gates of the estate that houses all twelve members of the Brotherhood. Eyes widening with excitement, she pushes her wispy blond bangs to the side to get a better look.
The castle-like structure sits atop a hillside. Arched mullion windows line the floors in neat, perfect rows, charming those who gaze upon the estate. It really is a gorgeous place, down to the ivory stonework. I can’t help but turn away from the sight with a sickness in the pit of my gut.
“It looks like a prison,” Faye gripes, her fuchsia-hued lips forming a scowl. Her words echo my thoughts.
Elise glances my way, rose coloring her cheeks, baby blues deepening with an apology. “I’m sorry. That was an insensitive thing to say.”
“Don’t apologize for appreciating beautiful architecture.” I cross my right ankle over my left. “All we can do is make the best of the situation.”
“It’s so unfair,” Faye complains in a harsh whisper. “You shouldn’t have to go through this.”
None of us should.
Though she didn’t say the words, they flit through my mind anyway. It’s what she meant, but as one of my ladies, she’s been trained to put me first, to push aside her personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions in favor of my wants and needs.
Elise is ecstatic at the prospect of landing a husband on Zodiac Island. But Faye is here against her wishes, as am I. She was forced to leave the love of her life with the expectation that she marry above her station—an opportunity not gifted to many servants.
As we roll down the long driveway, trees rustle in the breeze on either side in blankets of grass. The lawns are lush and green from the abundant rain for which Zodiac Island is famous. Just behind the towering estate and past the cliffs, I spy the ocean. That endless stretch of water is the only thing that brightens this reality for me.
I’ve never lived so close to the sea. On the drive over from the Brotherhood’s private airstrip, I spotted the most beautiful beaches, the waters a deep cobalt with miles of uncluttered sand inviting one to search for sand dollars and seashells.
Uncle Rowan promised I’d have some freedom on this God-forsaken chunk of rock—the chance to roam and explore. In theory, it’s an alluring idea, but I can’t stop the niggle of dread chasing me. The closer I come to meeting the chancellor, whom I’ll spend the next month with, the more my belly roils with nervous energy. No amount of adventurous discovery on new soil will make this forced marriage worth it. Not considering the rumors about the Brotherhood that have run rampant on a global level.
Political corruption.
Sex scandals.
And the thing that worries me most—the gross negligence of women’s rights.
As we come to a stop at the main entrance, I can’t deny the fear gripping me. Palms clammy, I try to draw in a deep breath but fail.
Faye grasps my fingers and squeezes. “Just breathe. We’re right here with you.”
I’ve known about this inevitable day for six years. Six long years of my uncle drilling it into my brain at every turn, trying to prepare me so it would be easier to accept.
It’s not, and I’m far from prepared.
We roll to a stop and the engine shuts off. The resulting quiet is as unsettling as my thoughts. Doors open and close, and seconds later, Rowan swings mine open. I glare at him through the hot tears flooding my eyes. Oh, how I despise those drops of weakness as they slip past my armor.
His stature is immovab
le, as is his will. “Dry your eyes, child.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You’re right. You’re a grown lady, and it’s time you stop the theatrics and behave like the queen I trained you to be.”
“Don’t make me do this.” I bite my lip to keep from adding a whiny “please” at the end of that sentence. Despite what my uncle might think of me, I’m not this pathetic.
Not usually.
What I am is desperate…which is pathetic in its own right.
“It was done six years ago, Novalee.”
“Undo it.”
“That isn’t an option.”
The urge to run is strong. Craning my neck, I study my surroundings from the back seat of the vehicle. The grounds seem endless from this vantage point, but even if I hide amongst the trees long enough to evade, where will I go? I’m on foreign soil, the terrain unfamiliar, and finding a stranger willing—or stupid enough—to go against the Brotherhood by helping me will be next to impossible.
And it’s not like I haven’t tried running before.
“Don’t try it, child,” Rowan warns in a dark tone. “Running will only delay the inevitable and leave you unable to sit.” Gripping me by the arm, he drags me from the luxurious vehicle before letting the door slam shut with the kind of finality that inspires teeth-grinding.
I’m angry and indignant and desperate to stop the tears from escaping down my cheeks. What an utter fool I was in thinking I could get through this without falling apart. I’ve straddled the line of a nervous breakdown since I turned eighteen two months ago when my uncle and his men thwarted my last escape attempt. No amount of begging had saved me from a brutal session with Rowan’s whip, and it won’t save me from what he claims is my duty.
