SovereignsChoice Read Free Page B

and try to get back to
business. “Uh, so anyway. Are you sure you don’t need the herbs?”
    “Quite sure.” He gives me one last long look
from those cool gray eyes and nods. “Good day, Emma. I’ll see you soon.”
    I seriously doubt it, I think as he heads out the door, empty-handed. As I put back the
herbs, I wonder again who he really is and what happened when we touched. But
it seems my questions are destined to go unanswered. I’m sure if I see him at
all after the Sacrifice celebration, he’ll be partying with some slender fairy
chick or chatting up some other pretty witch or were. As for the girl he was
searching for, he won’t have to look hard to find one to suit him.
    I sigh softly and look at my watch. Almost
time to close up anyway. I put the shop in order and try to get him out of my
mind. But somehow he lingers there, Mr. Aiden James with his sharp teeth and
even sharper eyes. Why can’t I stop thinking of him?
     

Chapter Two
     
    “Stop fussing with your outfit. You look gorgeous.”
Lexy looks at me approvingly.
    “I do not.” In fact, I have never felt more
exposed in my life. As it turns out, I had been right to be suspicious of her
offer to “hang out and have some cousin time”. What she actually wanted was to
see what I was wearing to the Sacrifice Ceremony. When I finally, reluctantly
showed her the long skirt and blouse combo, she whipped out a pair of scissors
and cut huge holes in both articles of clothing before I could stop her. Talk
about pushy!
    Of course I had nothing else to wear but
Lexy had that covered. She’d brought along an outfit that wouldn’t look out of
place in a strip club. Okay, maybe it isn’t that extreme but it certainly
feels like that to me.
    I have on a deep-blue halter top made of
some soft, silky material that twists around my neck in a loop and barely
covers my breasts. It leaves my back bare so there’s no way I could wear a bra,
which makes me feel incredibly naked.
    Down below I’m wearing a peacock-dyed skirt
made of the same material. It falls in long, soft folds from my hips to my
ankles, with a slit right up the middle. It also leaves my midriff exposed. I
keep having the urge to cover my stomach—exposing my navel feels almost as
obscene as hiking up my skirt and giving everyone a good view of my pussy.
    To this lovely but revealing outfit, Lexy
has added some peacock-feather earrings but no necklace. Tradition dictates
that no female eligible to be chosen as the Sacrifice should wear any jewelry
around her throat. Because if the Sovereign picks you, he has to have
unobstructed access to your neck. This is the same reason everyone is wearing
their hair up as well. Lexy has pulled mine into a modified bun at the nape of
my neck with little curling tendrils coming out to frame my face. It’s almost
pretty but no matter what ’do I’m wearing, my hair color is still mousy brown.
    Lexy has pronounced my outfit “gorgeous”
and “perfect” at least two dozen times since we left my apartment and arrived
at the Glen—the large clearing on the outskirts of Tampa where all major
interspecies supernatural business is conducted. And indeed, as I look around,
I can see that what I’m wearing isn’t nearly the most revealing outfit on
display.
    The fairies, keeping to themselves as
always, have on shimmery, diaphanous gowns that are practically see-through and
most of the female weres have apparently decided to treat the Glen as a topless
beach. Dryads and nyads drift around clothed in only leaves and water vapor and
the majority of my sister witches have on lingerie that could charitably be
called revealing. If you’re not feeling too charitable, however, you could just
say slutty—it amounts to the same thing.
    In fact, what I have on is pretty modest,
all things considered. But I still can’t help feeling as if my nipples are too
visible through the thin fabric and wishing I could cover my bellybutton. It’s
not as if I have six-pack