The Other Side of Truth (The Marked Ones Trilogy Book 3) Read Free Page A

tickets to months ago. That the five of us had purchased tickets to. That only three of us were going to because Travis and Patrick, well…they weren’t coming.
    Wrapping my arms around the stuffed cat, I stared up at the painting. The one Patrick had given me for my birthday. The one that was still hanging from the ceiling above the bed, because I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take it down yet. And not just because it was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But because I was afraid to admit that—
    My eyes started to sting, threatening tears. With a grunt of anguish I threw the stuffed gray cat across the room so it slammed into the closet door, and rolled over into a ball on my side. I wasn’t going to cry, not again, not right now.
    Part of me wanted him back so badly that every breath hurt. But the other half wanted to forget I had ever even met him. Because it would be easier. Because then I wouldn’t be broken inside anymore.
    With a huff, I rolled over and landed on my feet, raising my chin defiantly. “You can do this. You have to do this,” I said to myself on a heavy breath. “Galatheas never accept defeat.” And I walked out of my room, head held high.
    I had nearly gotten so good at pretending that everything was okay that I almost fooled myself.
    Almost.

    “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road,” I said on my way down the stairs, slipping a black winged backpack on as I went.
    I jumped off the second to last step so I landed with a flounce on the wooden foyer floor of my family’s elaborate Victorian estate. The four-story Victorian might have been enormous by San Francisco standards, but I knew every inch of it by heart.
    My cousin Nikki just gaped at me, her mouth hanging open and her eyebrows arched. Her normal blond A-line bob hidden beneath an equally blond braided wig that reached down to her knees.
    “What?” I asked suspiciously.
    “I think that is quite possibly the shortest thing you have ever walked out of this house wearing,” Nikki said as she eyed my outfit.
    “And who’s gonna stop me?” I countered harshly as I threw my arms out, and gestured around the seemingly empty foyer.
    The answer? No one. Because Alex was at an undisclosed location for an international summit, and Loraly barely came out of their room. And even though I knew our estate was under constant Protectorate surveillance, they weren’t about to see my choice of outfit as anything to be concerned about.
    “Okay, so I figured we’d stop at Mel’s before we headed to the—” Shawn said as he came through the front door and stopped dead. His eyebrows shooting up so far that they hid under the edge of his wavy blond hair. “Holy shit , Nualla! You look like you walked out of a highly inappropriate movie.”
    “It’s called porn , Shawn. Say it with me, p-o-r-n porn,” I said teasingly as I slung my coat over my arm.
    Shawn turned an unbelievably brilliant shade of red and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Which was also probably the only smile I’d even remotely cracked in about two months.
    “And besides, what are you watching that has ‘inappropriately’ dressed ballerinas?” I asked smugly.
    “I…uh…” Shawn babbled uneasily before Nikki cut in.
    “I thought the rave was fairytale themed. What fairytale has ballerinas?” she asked dubiously as she slipped on her own coat.
    “Swan Lake.”
    “That’s a ballet ,” Nikki pointed out as she put her hand on the hip of her slightly more appropriately long Rapunzel costume.
    “That was based on a Russian fairytale,” I countered as I folded my arms under my chest.
    “Okay you two, who’s driving?” Shawn asked abruptly, changing the subject.
    “No one, we’re taking a taxi,” I answered as I passed by him and reached for the door. “If any one of us can still stand at the end of the night, we’ll be lucky.”
    “Actually, I have to go through an assessment test tomorrow so—” I glared at him.