Chapters (36)
- Entwined
- CONTENTS
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- Backad 1
- Backad 2
- Backad 3
- Backad 4
One of the downsides of having my dad with us was having to listen to him kissing my best friend’s Royal butt. He was obsessed with anything Royal, and always went overboard to try to please Kris and her family. It was excruciating to watch. But it was still way better than riding in awkward silence with him in his Toyota Yaris all the way there.
Kris reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. I looked up to see her smooth profile—the shiny white skin of her forehead, straight nose, and full lips. Her long platinum-blond hair framed her face perfectly, and the sun shining through the side of the window gave her a luminous backdrop. She was the definition of stunning, and being born an Ambrosia meant she would always stand out in a crowd.
One lock of her blond hair slid across her cheek, and she raised her free hand to push it behind one ear.
“I’m so excited, Ave.” Her smile widened. I turned my palm up and squeezed her hand, grinning back at her before turning my gaze out the window as our neighborhood rolled by. We were leaving behind our normal American-teenager façade and preparing ourselves for the centuries-old compound we were heading toward.
“So, Ave, tell me . . .”
I could sense by the way her eyes glinted that she was about to bring up something I didn’t want to talk about. “Hmm?”
“What did he say?” she said, blatant curiosity etched across her face.
“Who?
“Carlo. We were in so much of a hurry that I didn’t get a chance to ask you about him.” I glanced at the front seat where my dad had his eyes glued to the road as if he was the one driving. She lowered her voice, “Don’t worry, he can’t hear us.”
“What do you want to know?” I whispered.
“Everything. How’s the long-distance relationship been working out?” Kris teased.
“He said he’s coming and he . . .”—I pulled up his last text on my phone—“Don’t freak out, okay. He said he hopes that I’m his other half.”
Kris read the text. I didn’t need to look at it again—I remembered every word by heart. After all, it had helped me make my decision to go to Court.