Exported [Book 3 in the Expiring Series]

63 Bloodlines

Jonas~~

The sun has just risen over the tarmac where we wait as the first plane lands. There will be many more that follow. Colton stands on my right, Tobias on his other side, followed by Vienna. Sebastian's on my left, Erik next to him. Beside him is Alix with his guards. Abella remained behind in Paris.

We've driven outside of the city about two hours away to avoid Odette and her spies. To lessen the chance she finds out who is arriving.

Sebastian lets out a low whistle. "Alastairi Moretti. I can't believe he came. Do you think he'll live up to the legends?"

Vienna sniffs. "I find it hard to believe he managed to sleep with all the wives of an entire Order."

Erik lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Eh, I could see it."

Leaning forward, Vienna smiles sweetly down the line at him. "See it for himself or you?"

"I wouldn't mind Jonas's future wife."

It takes everything in me to hold my ground and let his words roll off my back. I'm not going to make a fool of all of us in front of Alastair. Alix, well, he can go to hell. But with our luck, punches would get thrown just as Alastair and Gwen step off the plane, and Gwen would find a way to do the impossible and murder us all.

"But," Erik continues, looking her up and down, "I don't think I care for Colton's."

I steal a glance at Colton—I think we all do. He bristles, rolling his shoulders back.

"I would say the same about your future wife, Erik," Colton keeps his tone dry. "But I see you don't have any prospects."

Erik tenses.

"One step out of line, Erik, and you'll have Gwen to contend with." I keep my eyes trained forward as a crew works to line up a set of stairs with the plane's door.

I don't know why I'm so nervous to meet the heir. I've grown up around Amoris and have always been able to keep from making direct eye contact. As I am Preeminence, they've known not to try. That was my saving grace. A long-held tradition. There are many traditions that I hate, but not that one. Even if I wish it could be different because there's power that comes with looking into another's eyes. You can see their thoughts, their soul, their emotions. And for some, they can see the other person's death.

When you meet another's eyes, you feel as if you're in a game of cards, the dominance constantly shifting, and when the cards fall in your lap, you feel as if you could rule the world.

One look in Alastair Moretti's eyes and he'll know I'm a dead man walking. The heir to Amoria wouldn't hesitate to wipe out a fluke.

Despite the rumor that he went skinny-dipping with all of his servants during one of his birthday parties, he still has to be ruthless.

An attendant opens the door, and Gwen appears, dressed in light-colored slacks and a white blouse looking as if she's about to pose for a magazine shoot and is not someone who just spent roughly eight hours on a plane. She smiles at us, her eyes hidden behind her wide sunglasses. I didn't know whether to expect to see Gwen or Alastair first. The level of rank, for anyone in my Order, is a gray area where Alastair is concerned. We already hold positions, command the respect that comes with the titles, but we answer in various levels to all of the Orders on Amoria, and Alastair in a few years is to occupy the highest position.

He could have gone first should he have wished it. It's a statement to all of us that he's acknowledging we have rank over him. And the fact that this is Gwen makes this an even more powerful act. My father and I fought for Gwen to be recognized as Tresais, the first female member of any Order. For Alastair to let her demonstrate she holds rank over him . . . the implications are huge.