Broken (The Captive #5.5)(36)

Atticus didn't respond to Silas's assessment but Silas didn't seem to require a response as he turned toward Merle. His eyes were just as assessing as they traveled over Merle. "Merle," he greeted.

"Silas."

Silas gave a brisk nod and turned his attention back to his father and uncle. "I think they will make fine matches."

Atticus's hands fisted, despite his every intention to remain calm, he felt his fangs lengthen at the words. He'd always known this day would come. He hadn't known who it would be, and he'd expected it wouldn't be for at least another hundred years, but it had always been understood that he would one day marry into the aristocratic line. That his wife would be chosen for him and Silas's daughter would make an excellent match. This match would bring a powerful alliance and eventually produce a strong heir. He hadn't seen Silas's daughters since they were children but even without knowing what his future bride looked like, he would have agreed to wed her in order to have this match right up until the moment he laid eyes on Genny.

Since he'd met and fallen in love with Genny the idea of being with someone else, of even touching someone else, made his skin crawl and his temper rise. How could he possibly convince his father that this wasn't to be? There was no way that he could get out of this wedding without creating a feud amongst their families, a feud that could decimate both of their lines.

"Tell the servants to bring my daughters in," Silas gruffly commanded Atticus and Merle.

Merle glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as his jaw clenched. Atticus didn't obey anyone's orders though, even if they were older and more powerful than he was, for now. Merle reluctantly relented and turned to open the door. He beckoned a young serving girl forward, gave her some instructions and closed the door again. Atticus kept his gaze focused on the back wall as his mind spun and he tried to think of a way to escape the fate he'd been handed at birth.

Atticus's father poured himself a goblet of blood and passed it on to Nyles. "Son?" his uncle inquired of Merle as he held out the goblet of blood in his direction.

"Yes," Merle agreed and stepped forward to claim the blood from his father.

Merle gave Atticus a questioning look; he gave a brisk nod in response. Merle handed him the goblet before claiming another one for himself. The blood was thick as it slid down his throat but he barely tasted it. He dropped it on the table as the door opened again and two women were ushered in. Atticus caught a glimpse of hair the color of gold beneath the hoods of the cloaks they wore but their heads remained bowed. From what he could recall the oldest daughter was only a year younger than him and the youngest was two years younger.

"My youngest daughter, Jane," Silas introduced. One of the women lifted her head and pulled the hood away from her face. Atticus's gaze ran over her striking features before he turned to pour himself a fresh goblet of blood. "I think she'll make a suitable match for you Merle."

Atticus glanced at his cousin, he knew the last thing Merle wanted was to get married but his gaze was fixated on the woman's face. Atticus focused more attentively on the woman who had her hands folded before her. Her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and fell nearly to the floor. Her eyes were a dove gray color; they were a softer color than her father's gray eyes though and more appealing.

Merle smiled back at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jane."

Her smile grew; she blushed prettily as she lowered her lashes to cover her eyes. "And this is my eldest daughter, Anna," Silas continued.

Atticus braced himself as Anna's fine boned hands reached up to the edges of her hood and she pulled it back. She continued to stare at the floor for a minute before finally lifting her eyes to his. He'd seen many women around the world but he'd never seen one as beautiful as she was. She was very similar in looks to her sister with her golden hair flowing to her waist, high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and full, rosebud mouth. Whereas Jane was cuter with her round cheeks and sweet smile, this woman exuded an aura of sexuality with her enticing smile.

Though her face was captivating, her eyes were by far the most intriguing thing about her. Like her father and sister, they were gray in color but a band of brilliant blue encircled the pupil and stood out like blood against snow. Long black lashes curled against her porcelain cheek as she briefly lowered her gaze before looking at him again.

Even as he was staring into those stunning eyes all he could picture were raven colored eyes that sparkled when the sun hit them. Even as he was drinking in the sight of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, all he could picture was Genny curled up within his arms. All he could taste was her tempting blood sliding down his throat.

If this had been last year he would have been thrilled with this match, but he couldn't stop his skin from crawling at the thought of touching this beautiful woman standing before him now.

Color crept into her cheeks as he continued to stare at her with little emotion. Shaking himself off and drawing on the years of proper etiquette that had been instilled into him, he gave her a quick bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you milady."

Her smile widened, her eyes sparkled in the flickering candlelight. "You also milord."

"I think this will make for a fine match for all of us," his father announced. "Two powerful families will finally be united."

The hair on his nape stood up. He felt as if the cold hand of death was brushing against him and he supposed, in some ways, it was.