“That’s…improbable at best and impossible at most.”

“The tradition hasn’t let us down yet.”

He urges me forward, and we arrive at the entrance of the formal dining room where my ladies are waiting. As Faye greets Liam with an air of coldness degrees below her usual aloofness, I suddenly remember my conversation with her before my bath.

The bath.

The one he interrupted and punished me for.

How could I forget, even for a moment, how absolute his power is? He pulled me in with his history lesson in the hall, seducing me with the mystery of the Brotherhood’s origins. Liam stimulates my mind as much as he stimulates my body.

What a dangerous combination.

“Ready to go in, ladies?” Liam gestures for us to enter first. I step into the elaborate dining room, my ladies on either side of me, and take in the circular space. Above a giant round table hangs a massive chandelier. There are no windows in this room, as we’re deep in the middle of the tower on the first floor.

It’s a stifling place, especially with eleven sets of eyes gawking at me from their thrones around the table.

Liam moves us forward, and I realize the table is sectioned into twelve slices. He clears his throat. “I’m pleased to present our queen, Novalee Van Buren and her ladies, Faye and Elise.”

I bow my head in a show of respect. Liam gestures for me to take a seat, then he settles into the chair on my right as my ladies sit on my left. We’re all connected at this table—a continuous circle that never ends.

“Before we make formal introductions,” Liam says, “I’d like to present Novalee with a gift.” He waves a hand at Selma, who crosses to the table carrying a tray with a white round box. Liam picks it up and opens the top before setting it on the table.

A humongous diamond ring glitters under the light of the chandelier.

His brown eyes are warm, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he takes my left hand in his. “Every member of the Brotherhood will present you with a gift at the beginning of his time with you. This ring is mine. It symbolizes the Brotherhood’s commitment to you and your duty to us.”

He slides it onto my ring finger, and I can’t help but gawk at the brilliance of the stone. It’s beautiful and weighs down my hand as much as the next twelve months weigh on my shoulders.

But I’ve recently learned that beautiful things come with hard realities.

“It’s stunning,” I whisper.

“So are you.” He raises my hand to his lips, the one he just put a ring on—the one he punished earlier that evening—and places a kiss there.

And he says I’m an anomaly.